Not So Delicate ||18+

Atticus ~35~

A few minutes later, I walk into the living room with mugs of hot cocoa. I hand one to everyone, sitting beside the tiny ray of sunshine.

"Uncle Atticus? How do you get these drawings?" She asks, tracing her finger over the tattoos on my arm. I smile softly and shrug.

"I don't know. I think the trolls draw them on me." I say, making her eyes widen. Her eyes resembled Zach's in so many ways. She placed down her empty cup calmly and crawled into her brother's lap.

"Will the trolls draw on me?" She whispers to him, making him smile down at her. He shakes his head softly and hugs her closely.

"They won't, donut. I'll keep them away." He whispers back, making Callan and I smile. He rocks her softly, sending her right to sleep.

We took this as a sign to turn in for the night. Zachary went to bed first, holding his sister. Then Callan turned in for the night. I stood and took the mugs into the kitchen, cleaning them and putting them away. I turned off all the lights and made sure the security system was on before I went to my room, I peeked into Brooklyn's room, seeing her wrapped in her blanket. The lamp on her bedside table was still on.

I walked inside, gently petting her hair. I love her hair. She looks so pretty when it's out. And when it's up, Lord save us all. I turn off the lamp and walk out. Heading to my room.

~

Another night of those damn nightmares and I'll give myself a lobotomy.

I groan and get out of bed, seeing it was already 6. It was a miracle I slept in this long. I walk downstairs, expecting to have the house to myself for another hour or two. But to my surprise, there, in my kitchen, stood my pretty girl.

I walk closer, the smell of bacon and waffles filling my nose. Then the coffee hit. Thank God. I watched her move around my kitchen with ease as if she'd been in it a million times before. She quietly hummed along to the gentle music that was playing. Did she find the Alexa also?

"Доброе утро." I say quietly, my mother language feeling bitter on my tongue. Her whole body nearly touches the ceiling from how high she jumped. She whipped around and stared at me with wide eyes as I poured myself some coffee, sipping at the bitter liquid. [Good morning.]

"Don't scare me like that." She scolds, holding her hand over her chest. I quirk an eyebrow and walk toward her, the hot liquid running down my throat. I set the mug to the side, looking at her.

"Is that an order?" I challenge, making her eyes widen a little. She looks away for a moment before looking back at me, a new fire set ablaze in her eyes.

"Yes." She says, giving me a defiant look. I narrow my eyes at her, placing my hands on her hips. I push her against the counter, keeping my eyes locked on hers.

"Oh? And who says you give the orders here?" I ask, tilting my head. She grins and leans forward, teasing my lips with hers. I can't wait to fuck her senseless.

"Are you going to give me orders?" She asks, making me groan. Whatever bit her this morning will be getting a handwritten thank you card from me. Wherever this behavior is coming from needs to open its doors more often.

"Fuck me." I whisper to myself, mentally reciting the Alphabet backward to control myself from bending her over the counter and fucking her till she cried.

"I'm looking forward to it." She grins, making me look at her confused before clenching my jaw. The little vixen was getting way too confident. I lift her and sit her on the countertop, standing between her legs.

"Take off your shirt." I order, making her eyes widen. Her mouth opens and closes, her bottom lip being tugged between her teeth. "I won't ask again."

She grabs the hem of the sweater she had on, slowly removing it from her body. The sight of her bare breast made me feral.

The alphabet wasn't helping now. I began naming every baseball roster I knew.

"Your bacon is gonna burn." I warn her, making her eyes flick to the pan of sizzling bacon behind me. She goes to put on the sweatshirt but I stop her. "That stays off."

"What if I get oil on me?" She sasses back, making me tense every muscle I had to not pounce on her like a fucking animal. I could see her little confidence bubble was popping.

"Then tend to your waffles and I'll finish the bacon. Either way, you're staying just like that." I say, turning around and flipping the bacon in the pan. She hops off the counter, her arms fixed in a way to subtly hide her bust.

I stared at her as she took the waffles out of the maker and poured in more batter. Her back muscles flexed subtly making something in my stomach flip. I could see the shape of her body perfectly. The sweatpants she wore didn't hide her silhouette.

I walk over and press my chest to her back, my lips on her shoulder. She breathes in slowly, her head falling back, resting on my shoulder.

"Ты чертовски красив." I growl against her neck, her breathing picking up. My hands run up her stomach, gripping her breasts in my hands. She lets out a small whine, pushing back against me. [You're so fucking Beautiful.]

"What does that mean?" She whispers, a small moan escaping her throat when I roll her nipples between my fingers.

"I said you're fucking beautiful." I whisper against her neck, biting it hard enough to leave an ache. She moans, grinding her ass against me. I pull her away from the waffle maker, bending her over the countertop. She hisses, the cold marble stinging against her bare skin. "Keep fucking doing that I'll fuck you till you're dumb."

"I guess I'll keep doing-" I cut her off by grabbing her throat, squeezing it hard enough to cut off her breathing. She arches her back, her ass rubbing against me again.

"A...ccident-" She chokes out, her face turning red from the lack of oxygen. I smirk softly, releasing her throat slightly, letting her breathe in. I hold her hip with my free hand, pressing my hard-on into her.

"Remind me who gives the orders again?" I say huskily, the interaction making me feel feral for the first time in years. She was like a cat in heat today and heaven help me I might just give her what she wants.

"...You." she bites out, desperately wanting to act up again. My hand on her throat was a warning to keep her tongue in check. My girl learns fast.

"Good girl." I whisper against her shoulder blade, releasing her and backing away. I turn off the stove and plate the bacon, letting the oil soak into the paper towels. She plated the waffles after putting her sweatshirt back on, setting them on the table just in time. Callan walked down the stairs with a sleepy Rosie in his arms, a disheveled Zachary following behind them.

"Princess Brooklyn!"