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Fuck it. She can have the shirt.
With her hips in my hands again, I slow her rocking. If I had better control of myself, I’d let her work against me until she came. I’m shocked I don’t, but there it is. Besides, I’d rather give her pleasure with my hands. Or my mouth.
Why not both?
My head down south thinks that’s a great plan. My befuddled brain jumps on board.
Without another thought, I flip her down to the sofa and half-press myself on top of her. My lips unerringly capture hers again. And my hand wanders from her hard-tipped tits, over the flat surface of her stomach, and straight under the waistband of her panties.
Then…oh, fuck. I’m. Touching. Echo’s. Pussy.
And she’s drenched. She’s smooth and bare, too.
When I graze her steely clit, she gasps. Desire jerks against my mental restraint.
“Shortcake…”
“Oh, my god. Hayes…yes. Yes!”
She spreads herself open wider, inviting me to do whatever I want. She trusts me, and I feel horrible for lying—but that won’t stop me from making her come. I’ll apologize later.
“So fucking perfect,” I praise her as I settle my fingers between her folds, mesmerized by the jolt of her hips in rhythm with my slow, tormenting circles. “Jesus, Echo.”
Her back arches. Her body shudders. She clutches my shoulders, her eyes flaring wide as she whimpers for me. “You’re going to make me come.”
Already? Damn it. Some wretched part of me wants this to last all night so I can hear her beg, plead, and whimper until she can’t help but scream.
I don’t dare.
“Good. Let go,” I murmur against her lips before I seize them again, plowing deep, tongues tangling, while my fingers work her closer to frenzy.
She pants and gasps, rolling her hips again and seeking out my touch. Fuck, I want her panties off. I want to watch my fingers in her pussy. I want to see her totally naked, flushed, and aching for me.
I want inside her.
This isn’t about you.
I step up my effort, kissing down to her chin, gliding over the graceful arch of her exposed throat, to the swells of her breasts…then finally to her nipples desperately stabbing the air.
The moment I take one in my mouth, her clit swells under my fingers, which I work faster and harder. She keens out. I nearly lose it.
She’s so responsive. Fuck, she’s on the edge. Her sugary scent hangs thick. Then I realize what I’ve been smelling on her all week is her pussy. It’s perfuming the air, filling my nose, getting me high. It’s threatening to override what little control I have left.
I lave her nipple, then move to the other. They’re so fucking hard against my tongue. I’m probably going to hell for this, but I suck the nub deep. She keens. Her hips lift and strain. Her pussy is soaked. And she grabs me like only I can save her.
She’s seconds from orgasm.
Electricity fills the air. Her need threatens to mow me down. I’ve never felt so dialed into a woman. I’m two seconds away from tearing off her panties and telling my good intentions to fuck off.
But she squeezes her eyes shut. Her clit turns impossibly hard. Her entire body goes taut, legs stiffening as she pings with climax. And she screams. My name. At the top of her lungs.
I’ve never been more turned on in my life.
It’s a dangerous realization as I drag out her pleasure through a long, grinding, throaty climax that seems to roll on for half an eternity before she falls completely limp in my arms.
Endless, panting moments later, she opens her heavy-lidded eyes with a loopy smile. A satisfied Echo takes my breath away. Right now, I’d kill to put that expression on her face every day.
“That was”—she sighs—“Amazing. I need to return the favor.”
I’d love that, but no. Hell no. If I get any hotter, I seriously doubt I’ll be able to resist.
I’ve got to stop her.
As always, Echo has a mind of her own. She slides off the couch between my legs—and onto her knees. Then she reaches for my zipper.
My heart stops. My breath saws in and out of my chest as I grab her wrists. “Echo. Shortcake…”
Her golden eyes climb to my face, wide and supplicating. “Let me make you feel good. Let me try…”
How the fuck do I say no to that?
“I don’t know how good my self-control is right now.”
She gives me a soft smile of understanding. “That’s okay. I don’t want your self-control. I just want you.”
My grip tightens. I’m desperate. Maybe I should put my tongue on her pussy and drive her to distraction. I’d love to try…but if I don’t let her touch me now, will I spend the rest of my life wondering what her hands on my cock feel like?
It’s a dangerous question. I’m an asshole for even thinking it. “Are you sure?”
