I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110

Emery’s POV

Thought we were keeping it cute with friends….nope, his fingersave me the kind of orgasm that’ll get you reminiscing days after, and suddenly my hand is wrapped around his beautiful big cock…bonkers. But I’m obsessed.

I gave Atlas a deliberate squeeze, then started stroking…firm, steally pulls from base to tip, twisting my wrist just a little at the head. (Thank you, YouTube)…Guess my nights of watching and learning paid off. My thumb swiped over the slick slit every time I reached the top, spreading the precum that was already leaking like crazy.

“Fuck,” he groaned, low, burying his face in the crook of my neck His breath was ragged against my skin, hot puffs that made me shiver. One of his big hands fisted the back of my dres like he needed something to hold onto, the other braced on the marble counter behind me so he could rock his hips forward into my grip.

“That’s right… just like that,” he gritted out, voice all gravel and desperation.

I could feel his lips part against my throat, open-mouthed, panting, then the sharp scrape of his teeth as he fought not to bite down too hard. His abs flexed under my forearm every time I stroked him, hips jerking in these helpless little thrusts that made my core clench even though I had just come.

“Look at you,” I whispered, smirking even though he couldn’t see it with his face buried in my neck. “Big bad Atlas, falling apart because of my hand. Kinda hot.”

He let out a choked laugh that turned into a groan when I sped up, slick sounds filling the bathroom, my hand gliding over him faster, tighter, the wet slide of skin on skin yeah, lewd in the best fucking way.

“Em…shit…don’t stop,” he rasped, hips snapping forward harder now. His thighs trembled, muscles locked tight, and I could feel every pulse of him in my palm. “Gonna…fuck, baby, I’m close.”

I tilted my head so I could catch his mouth instead, kissing him messy and deep, tongue sliding against his while I kept pumping him relentlessly. He moaned into my mouth, loud enough that I had to swallow the sound so no one could hear it.

“Come on,” I murmured against his lips, voice low and filthy. “Come for me, Atlas. Right here. Make a mess all over my hand while everyone’s out there drinking and clueless.”

His whole body went rigid, back bowing, breath hitching, and then he came hard. Hot, thick spurts coated my fingers, my wrist, dripping down as I kept stroking him through it, taking out every last shudder of him. He groaned my name like a curse, face now tucked against my neck, teeth grazing my skin as his hips jerked in aftershocks.

When he finally stilled, he was breathing like he had just sprinted a mile, chest heaving, forehead pressed to mine. I could feel the lazy, satisfied smile curving his lips even before he lifted his head.

He looked wrecked in the hottest way: hair messy from my fingers earlier, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed. That cocky little smirk was back, though, softer now.

“I love you.”

I smiled, “I love you too.”

We stayed like that for a while, like none of us wished to pull away and ruin such an intimate and lovely moment, but I knew we couldn’t hide forever, soon someone might come looking for us…so I broke the bubble, taking a step back.

“I can’t believe we just did that here,” I said with a grin.

“I can. Once again, one of the best blow jobs I’ve ever gotten.” As said as he leaned in.

I tried…gosh I tried not to flush at his praise, but my cheeks wen nuclear anyway. Heat crawled up my neck, and I had to look away for a second, biting the inside of my cheek so I didn’t rin like an idiot.

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11:09 Tue, Jan 20 DG.

Chapter 110

63%

He caught my hand, tugging me gently toward the fancy marble ink. He stepped right up behind me, no concept of personal space, and I didn’t mind one bit. I liked the solid heat him pressed against my back, the way his chest brushed my shoulders every time he breathed. His arms caged me in as turned on the faucet, warm water rushing over our joined hands. He washed away every sticky trace of him with slow, deliberate strokes, thumbs rubbing over my knuckles like he was savoring the excuse to touch me.

I watched us in the huge mirror, both of us a beautiful disaster. My hair was messy, lips kiss-bitten and still glossy, face flushed, and heart thumping hard. Atlas looked wrecked too: ha sticking up where my fingers had tugged, stubble darker against flushed skin, long lashes, pointed nose, those pink lips that could steal every molecule of oxygen from my lungs…

“You keep staring at me like that and I might actually fuck you here,” he whispered, voice low and rough right against my

ear.

A full-body shiver rolled through me. I felt his hand slide around my waist, fingers splaying wide and possessive, pulling my ass flush against him.

I smirked, tilting my head so my lips brushed his jaw. “That wouldn’t be so bad… I mean, we already had a hot makeout session. Might as well move to the next stage.”

He groaned, soft, tortured, mouth grazing the shell of my car. “Careful what you wish for, Emery. If I get these clothes off you, everyone’s gonna know exactly what we were doing in here

Ugh. How the hell was I already throbbing again? My body was like, “Round two? Yes, please,” even though I had literally just come apart on his fingers. Focus, Emery. As much as you wanted that thick dick stretching you open right then, you couldn’t get caught. Not like this. Not when our friends were literally downstairs.

So I forced myself to pull away…reluctantly, painfully, “Okay, La son… I hear you,” I said, turning to smooth his wrinkled shirt collar, then reaching up to wipe the smear of my cherry-red lipstick off the corner of his mouth with my thumb. “Let’s not scare our friends.”

He chuckled lightly.

We cleaned up quick, fixed hair, straightened clothes, double-checked for any obvious evidence of the absolute filth we’d just committed in guest bathroom. When we were finally sure, we looked… mostly innocent, we headed for the door.

“Okay, so I’ll leave first…”

“Emery, no one’s gonna come here,” Atlas said, his voice low and cocky as he shut the guest room door behind us. “Just so you know, this is Guest Room 3. They’re all too busy downstairs watching Zombies Return. They wouldn’t even notice if the kitchen caught fire.”

I smiled, amused. “It is a great movie.”

He shrugged, leaning back against the wall, arms crossing over his chest. “Yeah… maybe I’ll rate it a six.”

My jaw dropped. “A six? That’s like a ten out of ten! You have terible taste in movies, Mr.”

He grinned, that hotass wicked, dimple-showing.

“Yeah? But this same Mister had his fingers buried deep inside your tight little pussy five minutes ago.”

I flushed so hard I could feel it in my ears. “Atlas!” I smacked his hest, and he immediately grabbed my wrists, spinning me around into a fit of laughter as he started tickling me.

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