EMPISTOSÝNI

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Atlas has felt the pleasure of a woman many times before. He has given in to fleshly desires, become drunk on male satisfaction, but never has he felt the way he does now. In this moment, with this woman, he is experiencing more than he ever thought possible.

As Calliope stood so close to him, her hands tugging lightly at his shoulders with her lips... Her lips pressing so tentatively--so uncertain--against his own, he knew that the passion he felt now was only a drop of what their love had to offer.

Cally slowly releases him, her arms falling back to her sides, heels returning to the ground. She ducks her head away from his gaze. He hadn't kissed her back. Cally suddenly wondered if maybe she misunderstood but that only lasted for a moment.

Atlas caught her fast, using both arms to pull her flush against him. She was shocked for just a moment before Atlas' mouth was on hers. He was not done yet. His lips move feverishly against Cally's, willing her to return the passion he was giving her. And, eventually, she did, her pink lips moving tenderly with his. His hands cupped her jaw, angling her head to his liking. Slowly, with much hesitation, her hands rested against his chest.

Atlas only released her when she pushed at his shoulders, a squeak sounding at the back of her throat. He pulled back very reluctantly, eyes meeting her own worriedly as she gasps for air.

"Are you alright?" He asks with concern, stroking her cheek before resting his hand on her waist.

She nods, laughing. "I need air, in case you forgot."

He had.

"I'm sorry," he says, smiling now. "In my defense, I was quite distracted."

Cally just giggled quietly, falling against his chest and wrapping her arms around his middle. Atlas was quite disappointed that their kissing was over, as he surely would have liked to continue, but having her resting calmly against him he found was just as satisfying.

He rubbed his hands up and down her back, massaging little circles. Atlas bowed his head and pressed a kiss onto her crown, his nose burrowing into her sweet smelling hair. He felt her head nod as she snuggled into his chest, ear against his heartbeat, and Atlas found it the most comfortable feeling in the world.

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"The mango was delicious," Cally voices later that evening as they sat by the fire.

"The what?"

"The fruit. It is called a mango. It is also my favorite fruit."

"Your favorite?" He asks. "I'm glad."

It is silent for quite a while after that. Cally sits with her legs curled beneath her, facing the flames with her right knee just barely brushing Atlas' arm as he lounges beside her.

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