CHAPTER 225: CHAPTER 226:PUNISHMENT

The air in the room was thick with heat, a humid pulse that clung to Atlas’s skin as he shifted on the worn leather sofa. His hips bucked faster, almost involuntarily, as Eli’s gaze locked onto his—a smirk curling the edges of her lips, sharp and knowing. She was toying with him, unraveling him thread by thread, and he could feel it.

The way her eyes glinted with intent, like a predator circling prey, told him everything. This wasn’t just about pleasure. No, Eli was playing a deeper game—softening him, breaking him down, maybe angling for something more later. A favor. A promise. Something she’d coax out of him when his defenses were shattered.

He didn’t know what she wanted. Not yet. But he’d seen this before, back in the dark continent, under the suffocating canopy of jungle nights. Eli always knew her way around him, knew how to find the cracks in his armor, the soft spots he couldn’t hide.

She’d done it then, and she was doing it now. Her tongue—God, her tongue—was a weapon, a velvet serpent that seemed to defy reason. From his angle, it looked average, pink and unremarkable, but the way she wielded it, the way it danced and curled, was anything but. It was precise, relentless, a force that made his thoughts scatter like ash in the wind.

He stole a glance at Lara, curled up in the corner of the room, her chest rising and falling in the soft rhythm of sleep. Hopefully still asleep. A flicker of guilt sparked in his chest, but it was drowned out by the heat pooling in his gut.

This situation—it was dangerous, teetering on the edge of something reckless. Maybe that was why it felt so electric. Maybe Eli knew it too, knew that some primal part of him couldn’t resist her, no matter how much he tried to fight it.

His hand found her hair, fingers tangling in the white strands, urging her closer, deeper. He pulled her head down, guiding her until her lips brushed the base of him, the tightness of her throat sending a jolt through his body. It was perfect—too perfect. A low groan escaped his lips, raw and unfiltered. "...Yesss."

Atlas was losing himself. His breath came in sharp, jagged bursts, his hips jerking upward to meet her rhythm, chasing the edge of oblivion. The room seemed to shrink, the world narrowing to the heat of her mouth, the slick pressure, the way her fingers dug into his thighs. He was unraveling, and she knew it. She always knew.

"Stop... Eli..." he gasped, his voice rough, tugging harder at her hair. The words were a plea, a warning. "If you... don’t stop... I’ll cum..."

But Eli didn’t stop. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, ashed and defiant, a silent challenge that said she wasn’t here to obey. She wanted to see him break, to taste the moment when he lost himself completely. Her lips tightened around him, her pace quickening, her hand matching every stroke with ruthless precision. His grip on her hair grew desperate, almost painful, and he threw his head back, a guttural growl tearing from his throat.

"Fuck... Eli!"

The release hit him like a tidal wave, his body shuddering as he spilled into her, pulse after pulse, deep in her throat. Eli didn’t flinch. She took it all, every drop, her throat working as she swallowed with a hunger that bordered on reverence. When she finally pulled back, his softening length slipped from her lips with a soft, wet pop. She exhaled, a ragged "Haaaa..." escaping her, as if she’d been holding her breath through the storm.

Atlas slumped back against the sofa, his chest heaving, his mind a haze of relief and exhaustion. Eli’s gaze found his, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She crawled forward on her knees, her movements slow and deliberate, like a cat stalking closer to its prize.

"Did you calm down now?" she asked, her voice soft but laced with a teasing edge.

Atlas nodded, his breath still uneven. The weight of the day—the stress, the failures, the endless grind—had been piling up, unnoticed until now. Her touch had unraveled it, leaving him lighter, his mind clearer than it had been in weeks. Eli settled onto his thighs, her fingers idly tracing patterns over his skin, toying with him even now.

"I missed the times when it was just you, me, survival, and rough sex," she murmured, her voice low, tinged with nostalgia. She rose, climbing onto his lap, her body claiming the space with an easy confidence. Her hips, full and heavy, took up every inch of his legs, her curves pressing against him in a way that felt both familiar and overwhelming.

Her chest, plump and soft, brushed against his, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. She could’ve smothered him, buried him in her embrace, but instead, she leaned in, resting her head against his chest, her breath warm against his skin.

This was her sanctuary, she realized. The one place where Eli, the queen, the schemer, could let go. The weight of her world—her kingdom, her battles—fell away here, in the quiet space between them.

"You don’t know... how much I love you," she whispered, the words slipping out like a confession, raw and unguarded.

"....Enough to kill me," he shot back, his voice low, half-joking, half-bitter.

"Enough to destroy kingdoms if need be...," she countered, her tone sharp, her eyes flashing as they met his. But before she could say more, his lips crashed into hers, claiming her mouth with a hunger that matched her own. His tongue rolled against hers, a silent challenge, a reminder that he wasn’t as powerless as she might think.

"This....doesn’t mean I forgive you," he said when they broke apart, his voice rough with emotion.

"....I know," she replied, her tone softer now, tinged with regret.

Atlas’s hand slid to her neck, his lips brushing against her skin, inhaling her scent—earthy, warm, intoxicating. His teeth grazed her, a gentle bite that drew a gasp from her lips. His fingers tightened on her buttocks, gripping the fabric as if it were the only thing anchoring him.

"Ahhh..." Eli moaned, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure, her body arching into his touch.

"You’ll have to repay... with every bit of your body and soul," he growled, his voice a blend of demand and desperation, as if he were trying to reclaim something she’d taken from him long ago.

Eli’s breath hitched, her eyes darkening with a lust that mirrored his own. She could feel him stirring beneath her, hardening again, the heat of him pressing against her thigh.

"Let’s move to the bathroom," Atlas ordered, his voice low, commanding. "I’ll cleanse all your... betrayal."

Eli nodded, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy with desire, as if her mind had surrendered completely to the pull between them. She rose, her movements slow, deliberate, and followed him, her heart pounding with anticipation.

[Genesis Seeds Plantation Failed]

The notification blinked on the screen, a cold reminder of the world outside their tangled bodies. Atlas barely glanced at it. Another failure, another echo of what he did to Isabella. He pushed it aside, his focus entirely on Eli, on the fire she’d reignited in him, and the debt she still owed.

As they moved toward the bathroom, the air between them crackled with unspoken promises—of punishment, of forgiveness, of something neither of them could fully name but both were desperate to chase.