The Billionaire Twins Need A New Mommy! novel Chapter 470

Chapter 470: You Asked If I Touch Myself

[Warning: This Chapter contains mature themes and implied sexual content. Open with caution.]

Meanwhile...

"Hah—wait!" Lola gasped, her back hitting the door as it closed behind them. Atlas was on her in an instant, caging her against it with his arms.

They had barely stepped inside when his lips claimed hers. His deep, uneven breaths mingled with hers, warm against her mouth. He had just brushed her straps off her shoulders when she pressed a palm flat against his chest.

He paused, drawing his head back slightly. "Why?" he asked first, his low voice vibrating beneath her hand. His gaze dropped to her chest, watching it rise and fall with each heavy breath.

Lola let out a shaky exhale, then giggled as she looped her arms around his neck. "Nothing," she said. "I just needed a breath."

The moment the words left her lips, she tilted her head and pulled him back down. Her mouth met his again—soft and hot and eager. Atlas drew in her breath as though he needed it to live. One of his hands settled possessively on her hips; the other slid around her waist firmly.

In one swift movement, he lifted her off the floor. Her back remained pressed against the door as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Lola grinned against his lips, her fingers curling into his hair.

"Take me to bed?" she whispered playfully, laughter brushing his mouth.

He answered with a low hum that vibrated through his chest. "It’s the closest."

Their tongues moved in a slow, unhurried rhythm, the kiss growing deeper and heavier. Heat curled between them, filling the space where their bodies pressed together. As he carried her across the room, each step made her cling to him a little tighter, her heart drumming so hard it almost drowned out the faint rustle of their clothes.

Lola landed on the mattress with a soft bounce, the fabric sighing beneath her. Atlas rested a knee on the edge of the bed, one hand planted beside her to keep his weight off, the other reaching up to tug his bow loose from his collar.

"It’s our first night," she teased, biting her lip as she watched him lean over her until his face hovered just a palm’s away. She reached up, pinching the edge of his collar between her fingers.

"...as husband and wife," she finished, her already flushed cheeks growing even redder. Her eyes shimmered, not just with affection, but with the kind of longing that had been simmering inside her for a long time.

They’d had plenty of nights together already. In fact, she could probably count on her fingers the mornings or evenings they hadn’t tangled up like this. His stamina and drive were insane, and she was weak to him in all the ways that mattered.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, they weren’t just lovers stealing time. They were married. And this wasn’t just indulgence, it was a promise she was more than willing to keep, again and again, for as long as she lived.

Atlas looked down at her, taking in the view he’d seen countless times. And yet, the fire inside him burned just as fiercely as the first time. He dipped his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips—soft, reverent. Then another to her cheek, his warm breath brushing her skin.

"Told you, you are..." he whispered, his mouth trailing down the line of her jaw to her neck, his breath hot and feather-light against her burning skin. "...mine."

He had told her that from the beginning. And he meant every word.

His.

Lola’s back arched slightly at the sensation of his mouth on her skin, her fingers creasing the fabric of his shirt. She guided him back to her lips, savoring the familiar taste of him. Her pulse thundered in her ears as his presence surrounded her—his weight, his warmth, his scent beneath the faint traces of cologne.

He pressed over her like a shield, his touch growing more intent as he eased her closer. Her world narrowed to the feel of his hands, the sound of their breathing, and the quiet creak of the mattress beneath them.

Atlas pressed his body against her slightly as he eased off the last of her dress, leaving only her laced underwear between them. So little protection she had—so easily accessible. With just one touch, he could feel her warmth, overflowing with a desire meant only for him.

Atlas’s breath deepened against her ear, his voice low and rough. "So wet," he whispered, grazing her earlobe as he pressed himself firmly against her center.

Even through the thin layers of clothing between them, their heat blend together. Fabric did nothing to hide the pull between their bodies, the kind of desire that made even the slightest movement feel like too much and not enough.

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