Asshole.
Atlas is lucky that I didn’t murder him on the spot for stopping me from completely destroying Orym. I don’t know how many times I’ve told Atlas in the past that I didn’t want him touching me. Yet, he still finds ways to piss me off by doing exactly what he is told not to do.
Typical man if you ask me.
However, despite the fact that I wanted to punish him for wrapping me within his arms, I didn’t. There was something about the way he touched me back there that made my skin burn with a desire. I don’t understand. At least, not in a way I want to understand.
The sound of his footsteps echo before he comes around the soft velvet curtains that hang along his private booth. It isn’t a surprise that he comes here. Or that any of the other men in the guard come here. But it does surprise me that he’s here tonight.
