Page 42 of Soulless Deeds

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come, and my brain was misfiring from that newfound physical dysfunction. I’d never had an issue before, the sexual frustration making me lose my damn mind.

It didn’t help that my body craved one person, thoughts consumed by the singular individual that haunted my unconscious mind. His presence was a clear warning and constant reminder of what I couldn’t have.

The man in question lingered on the outskirts of my bedroom doorway, refusing to venture further, and it drove me to the brink.

I can’t fucking take it anymore.

I rummaged through my bedside draw, grasping my new mini bullet vibrator and letting it buzz to life. My lashes flutteredclosed as I let the memory take over. Waking up with Echo above me, chest bare and exposed, his smooth cock hardening between us.

I let my delusion run wild, hoping he could hear me—fuckingseeme—pleasure myself to the mere thought of him, hoping he would choke on it.

If he wants to stay, I may as well put on a show.

I traced the bullet down my neck, the gentle vibration caressing over my thin singlet, and my breath hitched as my opposite hand raised to tweak my nipple through the soft, silky fabric.

Each minute brush, each hint of contact caused a ripple of pleasure to cascade down to my centre, my legs rubbing together, searching for the extra friction that I so desperately craved.

My head tipped back in bliss as I removed my panties, the suspense causing my core to moisten with expectation.

With my chest heaving, I slipped the toy between my legs, gliding over my centre with ease, a moan escaping my lips as I gyrated to the humming beats of the quivering toy.

Intoxicating tension escalated higher until I was on the precipice of orgasm—then, the battery cut out. My impending climax snapped back from me, my body rejecting the last remaining hurdle to pure, euphoric release.

An aggravated screech emitted from my hoarse throat as I blindly chucked the dead vibrator against the wall. “FUCK!”

“Need help?” Two words, spoken with the tone and deliverance of my latest sexual fantasy.

I opened my eyes to a shocking sight. Echo stood at the end of my bed, his eyes wholly black, licking his lips like he would ravage and feast on my flesh with a simple command. It made me drunk, high on the fucking fumes that radiated off him likea tidal wave. His dick was long and penetrating through his thin trunks.

“What will it cost me?” I asked, voice strained.

Echo’s head cocked to the side in a predator fashion. A bloodthirsty monster, ready to strike at the slightest provocation.It turned me all the way fucking on.

“I’m in a generous mood. Now, spread that pretty pussy for me, Ghost. Show me that piercing I can’t forget. That I fucking dream about.”

No shame or hesitancy registered in his words. My mind clouded in such potent lust that I followed his instruction willingly.

My fingers skirted down between my legs, finding my core soaking wet. Collecting some cum, I slicked my pierced clit.

Echo’s gaze never wavered, his pupils tracking my movements with particular concentration.

“You like me watching, don’t you, Spencer?” he asked, his tone rough. More heated arousal leaked from my centre, and Echo bit into his lower lip in retaliation. “You like flaunting that irresistible, dripping cunt in front of my face, don’t you? Like driving me goddamn crazy?”

My opposite hand lingered over my nipple, pinching to the point that a ripple of pain spiked through my system, quickly overtaken by a bout of pleasure.

I writhed to an uncontrollable rhythm, my attention never wavering from my personal voyeur, who hadn’t moved an inch. As if he was caught in a force field entirely of my own creation.

“I know you’re hungry.” I taunted, my voice raspy and halting on each word. “Why don’t you come and eat?”

He growled, and my eyes involuntarily closed as the unbearable sensation became staggering.

I absentmindedly felt the bed dip when a sultry voice teased my ear. “Is that what you want?” I flinched at his proximity, andmy flesh prickled from the tease of his warmth as he hovered above me, not quite touching. His muscles were strained from the effort of holding himself up and away.

He was so close, yet so, so far.

“Do you want me to lick you?” His breath stroked my neck, and I moaned from the insinuation. “Do you want me to taste you? To lap up every last drop of your delicious fucking cum?”

My back arched at his tantalising words, attempting to make contact with any part of him. He resisted.

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