Atlas - Roberts Alyne - Страница 16

When was the last time that I hadn't needed to look over my shoulder? Was it before my parents were killed? Not even then. Before my brother became involved with the likes of Atlas? Maybe. It had been so long, it seemed like all I'd ever known. I didn't need to watch my back anymore. I knew what was back there now. I had already been caught in the chase.

Atlas applied the conditioner to my hair and slowly rubbed in it. His hands felt so big on my head, but I wasn't scared. I didn't want to shy away from his hands. I wanted them on me. They were a reminder I was done running and it was over. One way or another, I wouldn't walk the streets in fear that I would be taken at any moment anymore.

Weeks of deprivation made me desperate for contact. I closed my eyes,concentrating on the sensations of his touch and the warmth of the water. The water was running clear but we both ignored it. My hip was pressed against his, and I knew my breathing wasn't steady since his hands were on me. My mind refused to remember the bad and concentrated on the moment. For once, I wasn't looking behind me.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice low and husky. It reminded me of when he whispered in my ear at the club.

"For what?" I asked, knowing I was playing with danger. It was like sticking your hand through the fence when you knew the dog would bite.

His hand stopped at the back of my neck and he gave it a squeeze. I could feel the bruises from the night before under his touch. I wanted him to erase them. He could cover them up, make them something else entirely.

Atlas used his grip to pull me so I was sitting up. I gathered the nerve to look at him and saw what I was feeling reflecting back at me. It was a confused mixture of want and lust. Water dripped from my hair down my shirt, making the already thin material cling to my skin. I watched as his eyes followed the water, zoning in on my nipples that I knew where hard.

"Stella," he said in a warning. I wasn't sure what for.

"Atlas," I said back. My voice was breathy and low.

"Shit," he cursed before he pushed me against the vanity.

I spread my legs and he crawled between them, leaning over me. His eyes were everywhere, taking in all that he could. He was trying to read me, see what it was that I really wanted. I licked my lips and pushed my chest out a little more, letting him know what it was that I needed. His lips parted as he clenched my thigh. For this one second, he was the weakest I had ever seen him.

One hand was still on the back of my neck as he reached behind me, moving it to my throat. I swallowed and tipped my head back, letting him get a better grip. When Atlas finally realized what I wanted, he pulled my face to his. My eyes shot up to look into his. I saw the understanding flash in his face.

"I erased that motherfucker," he growled before crashing his lips to mine.

We clashed together like a tragic wreck. It was wet and hard, his lips taking mine and crushing them. I moaned into his mouth and his grip on my throat tightened. The pressure wasn't enough to cut off air, but I felt his touch and no one else's.

Atlas kissed like he lived. He was powerful and forceful, taking whatever he wanted. His tongue parted my lips and I opened to him. I felt the rumble in his chest when he tasted me. His hand squeezed tighter and I welcomed the pleasurable pain. It was exciting and daring at the same time; a toxic mixture.

I squeezed my knees together, pinning his hips between my shaky legs. His body was hard and hot on mine. Atlas grabbed behind my knee and pulled, making me slide down to the floor. He never once released my lips as he lowered me to the floor and hovered over my body. The tile was cold on my back, cooling me down as I was burning up.

I could feel him all over me, although he was only touching my lips and neck. He devoured my mouth and I let him. If I could remember these touches and this moment in the house, maybe I could keep my sanity. Something less devastating to concentrate on and relive in my memories.

Growing bold, or impatient, I put my hands on his shoulders. The muscles flexed under my palms, and I loved the powerful feeling. His hand tightened on my throat when I dug my nails into his back. Atlas was holding back and restraining himself. I could feel it in his body. He could easily break me into a thousand pieces.

"This is a bad idea, Little Star," he said with his lips brushing mine. "I will hurt you. That's what I do."

"I'm already hurt," I whispered back.

Atlas pulled away to look down at me. He took in my lips that were red and swollen from his kisses. My neck that was under his hand, covering any marks. He watched my chest heaving and panting under my wet shirt.

Without warning, he gripped the neckline with both hands and tore the shirt down the middle. He pulled it open and lowered his lips to the skin between my breasts. I gasped when his tongue tasted me. I squirmed under him, but he pinned me with his body. I was trapped again. No matter what I did, Atlas had me trapped. I'm wasn't sure I cared at that moment.

"You think I can make you feel better?" he asked, his mouth trailing down my stomach.

I couldn't answer him. I didn't know if I thought I would feel better. I might feel numb. I could feel less angry. Was someone who only brought me pain and fear capable of taking away those feelings as well? Even he said himself, he hurts. All I knew was that right then, I didn't feel any of that.

I opened my eyes and watched as Atlas licked and sucked his way back up my stomach. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the glint of metal on the floor. His gun. With my legs wrapped around his waist, the gun was in the way so he must have taken it out. He was preoccupied with my skin and didn't notice me staring at it.

I couldn't reach it but if I slid over a little bit, I could grab it. I wouldn't need much time to point and pull the trigger. I knew how to shoot and knew how to pull the safety and fire quickly. With a weapon, I could get past the guards and out of this house.

Atlas stopped what he was doing and I looked down to find him watching me closely. His eyes were dark, mixed with danger and lust. His lips were plump and wet from kissing me. I bit my lip in response to the heated look he was giving me. It warmed my entire body.

Atlas pushed himself off me and leaned down over my face. One hand gripped my chin as he kissed me hard and rough. When he released me too soon, I was gasping for the breath he had stolen from me. When he moved again, I thought he would kiss me once more, but he stopped mere inches from my face.

Atlas reached out and grabbed the gun from the floor. He never looked away from me as he pulled back and tucked it back into his waistband. I couldn't read his look. Was it anger? Was it indifference? My heart hammered in my chest as I held my breath. Atlas slowly rose to his feet and left the room, without a word.

I pulled myself up and sat on the bathroom floor. My veins were pumping with a fear, but not one I expected or understood.

I wasn't scared of what he would have done if he had kept going. I was scared of how I felt when he stopped.

XII

Atlas

I avoided Stella for a few days. Cleaning up a murder in your house was time consuming. Especially if the wrong people noticed the victim was missing. Loyalties were being tested and so was my plan. It was hard to remain undetected when someone was snooping around your shit. I couldn't even call my dad without getting questioned.