ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ

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As usual, Atlas doesn't fail to surprise me

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As usual, Atlas doesn't fail to surprise me. And annoys me, apparently.

He stands in front of me, and I have let myself believe he'd finally have sex with me on a bed. Which ends with me feeling disappointed when he takes a step back instead.

I don't dare speaking, though I want to. But even if I could bring words past my lips, I don't think they would be intelligible.

Atlas looks down at me, his eyes moving over my body like he is taking a million pictures in his head. He looks at every part of me, a small smile tugging on his lips as he does.

Every spot his eyes lie on, it burns like he's holding a flame to my skin. But then the fire travels to the next spot, following his gaze.

It's getting harder to breathe with every second he just looks at me. I want—need—him to touch me. The heat no longer lingers on the parts he has his eyes on, it's now traveling right down, between my legs.

"Atlas?" His eyes find mine. They're filled with admiration, I think? It's something I haven't seen yet. Something so much deeper, an insight to his emotions, I don't think anyone has ever seen it in him.

"You make me weak, Sierra" his words come back to my mind. I didn't know what he meant, I don't think I do now either...but I can see it. I can see his vulnerability. I can see the internal fight with himself as he looks at me, like he doesn't know what he is doing but he also doesn't really care much.

Suddenly, I feel awkward just standing right in front of him as he stares at me. So I take a step closer. He doesn't comment, but his eyes follow me. I reach a hand out, taking the nearest of his in mine.

His eyes fall further down, looking at our hands. Watching in silence as I turn his hand around and look at his wedding ring. He always wears it. I don't think I've seen him take it off even once.

That might sound stupid, but Atlas is a soft brick. He is always so tense and stone-like, like nothing can shake him. But then he's at home with me. Suddenly, he's a whole other person. He laughs, he plays with my hair, touches me. Sometimes I think he feels the need to touch me, just to make sure I'm real.

"Atlas?" I try again, looking up into his eyes. He finds mine. I smile at him, but his expression stays the same. The same unbothered look with something much deeper in his eyes.

"Take off your dress," he commands, watching me as I obey. It almost happens automatically, like I can't even control my own body.

Atlas licks his lips, his eyes following my hands as I reach down to lift my dress.

"On second thought..." he doesn't finish his sentence. His hands find mine, lifting my arms over my head. Slowly, he traces his fingers down my arms, stroking along the sides of my breasts, all the way down to the skirt of my dress. "Can I?" he asks like I wasn't totally down to strip already.

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