Page 41 of Echo: Burn
"That's it," he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot. He kisses his way across to my other breast, leaving a trail of wet heat. "Take what you need."
I do, riding his thigh with increasing desperation while he lavishes the same attention on my other breast. My breath comes in short pants, heat building everywhere he touches—his mouth, his hands, the solid weight of him pressing me into the mattress. I can feel how wet I am, slick and ready, and I know he can feel it too against his thigh.
His hand slides lower, between my thighs, replacing his leg. The first brush of his fingers against my slick folds makes me jolt. I'm soaked, more ready than I've ever been, my body welcoming his touch with desperate eagerness. He circles my clit with his thumb, applies just enough pressure to make me cry out, then eases off.
"Christ," he mutters, his voice rough with desire as he explores me with his fingers. The calluses on his fingertips create the most perfect friction. "So responsive. So perfect."
"Kane." His last name this time, sharp with need, my hips bucking into his hand, chasing more pressure, more contact, more of everything.
He slides two fingers inside me and my internal muscles clamp down immediately, gripping him, trying to hold him there. The stretch is intense, bordering on too much, but perfect. His fingers curl inside me, finding a spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
"Oh God," I gasp, back arching off the bed. "Right there. Don't stop."
He doesn't. His thumb continues its maddening circles on my clit while his fingers work inside me, stroking that perfect spot with devastating precision. I can feel the orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter.
My hand reaches for him, wrapping around his hard length. He's velvet over steel, thick and heavy in my palm, and when I stroke him from base to tip, his hips jerk forward into my grip. A bead of moisture appears at the tip and I spread it with my thumb.
"Willa." My name comes out strangled. "Fuck."
"Please," I gasp, stroking him with purpose, matching the rhythm of his fingers inside me. "I need you inside me. Now. I need to feel you."
He groans, and I feel the vibration through his whole body, feel how close he is to losing control.
"Not yet." He captures my wrist, pins it beside my head, stilling my movements. "I want you ready. Want you so desperate you can't think of anything but this. Want to feel you come apart before I'm even inside you."
"I am desperate." My other hand claws at his shoulder, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks. "I can't think. There's nothing but this, nothing but you. Please, Kane. Please."
His fingers increase their pace, thumb pressing harder against my clit, and suddenly I'm right there, balanced on the edge. "Come for me first," he commands, his voice dropping to a growl. "Let me feel you."
Two more strokes and I shatter, crying out his name as the orgasm crashes through me. My body bows off the bed, inner muscles clenching rhythmically around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through me. He works me through it, gentling his touch as I come down, trembling and gasping.
When I can breathe again, I open my eyes to find him watching me with an intensity that steals what little breath I've recovered.
"Beautiful," he murmurs.
Before I can respond, he shifts, positioning himself between my thighs. Then he pauses, and I see the moment military discipline overrides desire.
"Wait." His voice is rough but clear. "I need to know—are you protected?"
My brain is still fuzzy from the orgasm, but the question penetrates. "Birth control. IUD. Good for another three years."
"And...” He hesitates, clearly hating to break the moment. "I'm clean. Last physical was two months ago, and I haven't been with anyone since."
Relief floods through me. "I'm clean too. Haven't been with anyone since I left Jack."
His eyes sharpen. "Six years?"
Heat floods my cheeks. "Yes."
A slow, wicked smile spreads across his face. "Six years. Christ, Willa. No wonder you're so desperate."
"Shut up." I try to sound annoyed but I'm smiling too.
"I'm going to make it worth the wait," he promises, voice dropping to a growl. "Every single year."
Something in his voice breaks the last of my restraint. "Then stop talking and prove it."
He positions himself at my entrance, the head of his cock pressing against me. His heat surrounds me, and I open for him instinctively.
