Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“Nora, hey.” Atlas waves a marshmallow in front of my face, effectively snapping me out of my wandering thoughts. “You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?”
I can feel my cheeks heat as I nod. “Sorry. Say it again?”
“I asked how toasted you want your marshmallow.”
“Oh.” I glance away from him to the fire. “I’m not sure. It’s been… at least ten years since I’ve…” I trail off, not wanting to bring the mood down any more than it already is. “How do you like yours?”
“Totally charred on the outside.”
I wrinkle my nose, but nod anyway. “Okay, I’ll take mine like that, too.” It doesn’t really sound good, but I won’t know unless I try it.
Atlas chuckles under his breath as he spears two marshmallows.
I watch intently as he pulls them from the flame, and then sandwiches the gooey marshmallows between two graham crackers, along with a square of chocolate.
“What do you think?” he asks, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.
I bring the s’more to my mouth, but the smell alone makes me hesitate. It’s this weird combination of bitter and sweet.
But still, Atlas says it’s good, so I force an exhale and bite into it.
I try to school my reaction, but it’s no use.
“Not a fan, huh?” he asks, amusement evident in both his tone and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
“It’s…” I frown and set the s’more down. “Interesting.” And by that I mean gross. It’s like ash-crusted sugar goo mixed with chocolate.
“Let me try again?” he asks.
“Last chance,” I whisper, shooting him what I hope is a teasing smile.
He assembles another s’more for me, but instead of handing it over like I expect, he beckons me closer. “C’mere, Pip.”
I scoot closer, so our knees are touching, but Atlas simply pats his thigh.
“What are you up to?” I murmur, narrowing my eyes.
“Come find out.” Those three words are somehow a promise and a dare, and before I know it, I’m rising to meet it, scrambling onto his lap. “Good girl.”
I don’t know why, but his softly spoken praise has me feeling all kinds of squirmy.
“Now, open.” He taps my bottom lip with his index finger.
Wordlessly, I do as he says. As I wait for him to make his next move, I realize just how much I trust him. I know he has my best interest at heart and that even if he pushes my boundaries a little, he’ll never, ever hurt me.
I startle as he slides the s’more between my parted lips. It’s cooled now, but I don’t care. It’s perfect.
“Good?” he asks, his eyes blazing hotter than the fire behind us.
“So good.” I lick my lips, chasing after any errant crumbs.
“You missed some.” He swipes his thumb over the corner of my mouth, coming away with a smudge of melted chocolate. I watch, enraptured, as he licks it clean.
“Atlas.” His name is a breathy whisper, as I press my forehead to his. “Kiss me.”
Desire pricks my skin as he skims his calloused fingers over my heated cheeks until he’s cradling my jaw and tipping my head just so.
For a long moment, we just exist, our bodies fused together as we share the same air. He’s never teased me like this before, and as much as it shocks me, I can’t say I hate it.
Not with how my entire body feels like a live wire, anticipation, desire, and a mustard-seed-sized grain of fear all mingling together inside of me, setting me on edge.
I’m restless and aching. “I need you.”
Those three words break his resolve, and he finally traces his tongue ever so slightly over my lips. “Open for me, Pip,” he growls, wrapping one arm around my waist to haul me closer.
He’s every bit as affected as I am, if the hardness pressing into my thigh is anything to go by.
I can’t tell if it’s the fire or the way Atlas is kissing me like his life depends on it that has me feeling so hot, but either way, I welcome the burn. I relish every brush of his tongue against mine.
But something deep inside me wants more. I need more.
“Touch me,” I beg, rolling my hips against him.
Atlas drags his lips away from mine, kissing down my jaw to my neck. “Where?” he asks, his voice cool silk against my fevered flesh.
“Everywhere.”
“Here?” He slides both of his hands beneath the thick material of my sweater, palming my belly.
I nod, roll my neck, and then shake my head back and forth. I want to feel him everywhere, all at once. I can’t just say that, though, can I?
He grins. “Giving me mixed signals, Pip. You’re the one in charge here. You want more, then you have to tell me. Want me to stop—tell me. You’re calling the shots.”
“I…” I swallow roughly, trying with all my might to banish my embarrassment. This is Atlas. He loves me, he’s safe, and he’s never once laughed at me. “I want you to… I want to feel you everywhere.”