I watched, still as stone, breathing like I was running a race as her fingers swirled and skipped through glistening folds. She was pink all over, soft as a flower petal, but there was an edge there, something hard and sharp that I liked the most. She wasn’t scared of me, of what I could do to her, and that reckless confidence called to something inside.
“Echo.” I barked her name as I grabbed her by her good shoulder and turned her so that her back was to the tiled wall and her little show was on full display in front of me. The water ran between the two of us, trickling over her fingers as she alternated between rubbing them over her distended clit and slipping them into all the secret places I wanted inside of. Her skin pebbled up under the weight of my gaze and her chest started to heave as she watched my reaction.
I was about to step in to her, ready to take her mouth with mine and replace her slick and shining fingers with my own, when she suddenly pulled her hand away and lifted it to my slightly parted lips. She smelled like sex and satisfaction. I circled her wrist as she traced the ridge of my bottom lip with her wet fingers.
“You’ll have to tell me how I taste, but if I had to wager a guess, I would put my money on turned the fuck on.” She lifted her eyebrows up at me and shifted her weight so that her legs were parted in invitation. “Do I taste ready, Ben?”
I sucked her fingers into my mouth and swirled my tongue around each and every one of the slender, delicate digits. I licked between them and dropped a kiss on the center of her palm. She curled her hand around the wet mark I left, like it was something she was going to hold onto forever, and stared up at me as I leaned into her and dropped my mouth down to touch hers.
“You taste perfect, Pop-Tart, but I need another bite to make sure.” I kissed her hard, pressing her back into the wall as she gasped into my mouth. I twisted my tongue with hers, gave her the edge of my teeth, and put my hands on her waist so that I could grind my demanding erection into her soft middle. All my senses were overrun by her, her taste, her scent, the tangle of her hair across her pale shoulders, the noises she made in her throat as I took her mouth over and over again. She became the only thing that mattered.
I ground my hips into hers before pulling back and dropping to my knees in front of her. The now icy water coming from the showerhead hit me, but it wasn’t enough to cool the fire burning under my skin. I pulled her hips toward my face, grabbed one of her long legs and propped it on my shoulder, gazing up at her as I ran my thumb in circles over the inside of her thigh. I was waiting for her to be the voice of reason, to get us back on the path to sanity and safety, but all she did was put her good hand into the longer top part of my hair and tug. She wasn’t going to be smart about this and I didn’t have the willpower to protect her from either of us anymore.
I ate her up. My tongue and teeth attacked her wet and welcoming center. She did taste ready, but more than that, she tasted like some kind of sweet salvation. She was clean and untainted, not part of the grit and grime that had spawned me. She was something better, the promise of what could be, and I couldn’t get enough of the way that brightness burst across my tongue.
I licked her, sucked her clit in between my teeth, and tortured the little nub with endless flicks from the tip of my tongue. I grazed my teeth across the quivering flesh and let my fingers sink into the greedy heat of her body. She was empty and I was the only one that could fill her up. Her body quaked and shuddered around my fingers, coating them in liquid desire and warm anticipation. Every pulse pulled me in deeper. Every moan she let slip out made me focus on bringing her to the ultimate level of pleasure. I forgot that she was hurt. I forgot that this was an impossible situation. I ignored the fact that I didn’t deserve to be the man that was making her feel this good. The only thing I focused on was making sure that no matter what happened when we left this shower, she would never be able to forget this…I would always be with her.
She mumbled my name and pulled on my hair as she undulated against my face. My beard was going to leave red marks on those milky white thighs and I kind of loved that. I was also going to have her pleasure, wet and noticeable, in my facial hair when I finally let her go. It was all so primal. It was the way two people that had nothing left to lose marked one another, clearly, obviously, in ways that were impossible to ignore.
I growled into her, rubbing my chin against her tender skin. She let out a strangled scream and pulled on my hair hard enough that it hurt. I could feel her body getting loose around my fingers, so I let go of her clit with one last tap of my tongue and pulled her up higher, tilting her farther back so that I could replace my plunging fingers with my tongue. I wanted to taste what I did to her, wanted her orgasm on my tongue. I fucked her with my mouth the way my aching dick was dying to do and she broke apart in my hands.
It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
I would gladly take another razor across my throat if it meant the universe was going to throw me in this woman’s path and give me the honor of making her shatter. I immediately wanted to do it again and again. I wanted to watch her come while she was straddling me and riding me until I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to watch her explode when I had her bent over, that luscious ass in the air as my hips pounded into hers. I wanted to cover her from head to toe as I slid inside of her, eye to eye, heartbeat to heartbeat. I wanted to take her, own her, fill her in every way a man could possess a woman and then, I wanted to start all over again and work my way back down the list.
She was more addictive than power had been, which was why I kissed her low on her belly, rose to my feet, pushed her hair off her face where it clung because of the water. I gruffly reminded her, “I told you I would take care of you.” I couldn’t get wrapped up in someone I couldn’t have. She was going. I was staying, and the last time I got a taste of something I wanted as badly as I wanted her, I’d ruined more lives than I could count. Even if I was willing to go down in flames, I refused to take her with me.
She looked at me in confusion, her eyes drifting down to my painfully hard erection. “What about you?”
I shook my head and stepped back, turning so I could make my escape like a total coward.
“I told you the only reason I’m here is for you, Pop-Tart. Guys like me don’t deserve second chances. I’m gonna find something to feed us and then head out. I’m going to leave my cell with you in case the doc calls.”
The look in her eyes as before I turned to walk away was one I was achingly familiar with. I’d seen it in my mom’s eyes when she told me she didn’t ever want anything to do with me again.
It was heartbreak and disappointment, warring for space.
Chapter 7
Echo