"…Then I would say…" Claire's voice was low, a velvet taunt laced with vulnerability, "…you ought to protect me too, not just my land."
"Oh, I will…" Atlas voiced, his tone rough, a promise wrapped in a growl. His hand moved, bold and unhesitating, reaching for her plump arse, fingers sinking into the soft curve with a possessive grip.
The leather yielded under his touch, warm from her body, and he felt the shape of her, the weight of her, like she was made for his hands. His other hand slid to her neck, thumb brushing the pulse that raced beneath her skin, fast and wild, a drumbeat that matched his own.
Claire's eyes widened, her lips parting as a shiver ran through her. "Atlas…" she said, her voice a mix of warning and want, "you're getting too bold… nowadays."
