I Swear I Still Hate Him (Atlas Lawson) novel Chapter 169

Chapter 169

3.59%

55 Vouchers

Once again, the rational part of my brain tried to chip in, its words of morality. Look away Em, be the good…..

Don’t bother with that speech, I’m too turned on to look away. I watched, unable to blink, as Atlas grabbed his dick and gave it a slow pull, his big hand sliding from base to tip like he was savoring every thick inch, veins bulging on his forearm, that heavy shaft twitching hard in his grip. His face was pure heat, eyes clamped shut, lips pressed like he was holding up the moans, sweat beading along his forehead while his chest heaved with ragged, uneven breaths. “Fuck,” he finally groaned, the word ripping out low and filthy, straight from his gut.

He started slow again, thumb swiping over the swollen head where precum had already made everything slick and shiny, but then he picked up speed, fist pumping faster, hips bucking forward in short, helpless jerks like he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He looked so hot, so sexy, so damn raw and filthy, stroking himself like a pro sweat-slicked muscles rolling, zero shame, all power and need. A huge part of me…the super thirsty, reckless part, wished I was the one wrapping my fingers around that cock, feeling it pulse hot and thick, making him beg my name for real. But nah, I was the genius stuck in closet jail, so I just gawked like a total creep.

His hand kept working him right to the brink, twisting at the top with every upstroke, his free arm braced hard against the wall now, knuckles white, body arched tight like a loaded spring ready to snap. And just when I thought I’d crack, my breath coming short and hot, thighs clenched for any scrap of friction, e moaned again, but this time he dropped my name. “Fuck, Em.”

My eyes popped wide, like they were about to roll out and hit the floor, jaw dropping in a dumb, stunned gape, body freezing solid while my hands slapped over my mouth to trap the gasp. Was he… oh shit.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, thrusting quicker into his palm, bice wrecked and needy, hips snapping like he was fucking someone…fucking me, in his head. I bit my cheek so hard I tasted blood, battling the moan clawing up my throat, my hands dying to dive down my jeans for just one quick flick to kill the aching throb between my legs. But I held off, face flushing hard, even as my core clenched empty and desperate.

“You send me shit like that and expect me to think straight…” he muttered, voice rough, frustrated, almost pained. “Fuck Em if only you knew just how gorgeous you are…”

I swallowed hard. Unable to hold it anymore, I crossed my leg for a much needed feel, eyes shut for a minute, hands back on my mouth tight as ever, holding back the moans that threatened to come out.

“Fuck, Emery!” He groaned loudly, body jolting as his orgasm hi hard cum shooting over his fist and splattering those cut abs, face going slack in pure bliss, knees dipping before he caught himself against the wall.

When he finally calmed down, slumped there panting, he dragged in a deep breath, shook his head with a low, breathless chuckle, and strolled over to grab some tissues, wiping the mess with lazy, casual strokes like it was no big deal. “Only you make me cum this hard,” he mumbled to the empty room, smirking all cocky and satisfied, like I’d just earned a gold star in the art of dick-teasing without even being in the same room.

I couldn’t talk or budge; I stayed glued like a statue, a mega-horny one, heart thumping wild, skin hot and prickly all over, brain stuck on replay with every dirty word he’d growled…what just…happened?

“I need a shower,” he muttered to himself, bringing my thoughts back and letting me know this wasn’t a dream. I watched as he ruffled his sweaty hair, striding toward the bathroom with that loose, post-nut swagger that should’ve been illegal. But he halted mid-step, brow furrowing. “Should get my robe first.”

Robe? Yeah, a robe would be real handy right now, hell, it’d at least cover up that fine ass of his and give my thirsty eyes break from ogling like it’s prime real estate. But wait… robe in the closet? Oh shit, ROBE IN THE CLOSET!!!

a

I spun so fast, banging my elbow on the wall…ow, shit, and sure enough, there it is, his robe hanging all regal on a hook, not tucked away but right there like it’s waiting to screw me over. No just any spot, the freaking closet hook, staring me down.

1/2

III

O

<

16:19 Mon, Mar 9

Chapter 169

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify