Echoes of Secrets (Obsidian MC #7)

Chapter Twelve

Evie

I wake slowly, the haze of sleep fading as I realize I’m not in my bed. For a moment, panic flutters in my chest, but it vanishes when I feel the presence of the man lying beside me.

Memories of the night before flood back, piecing everything together. The pain, the car ride, his voice promising I wasn’t alone. Mitchell’s sister. It all reminds me of who this man truly is. Not that I knew him well before, so maybe I’m not as floored by the revelation as his friends must’ve been.

“So,” I say, breaking the silence with a teasing grin, “do I curtsey and call you Highness now?”

He cracks one eye open and smirks, turning his head toward me. “I’d rather you go back to Goliath,” he replies, his voice still rough with sleep.

His smirk softens as his gaze roams over me, concern flickering in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Mmhmm,” I hum, nodding. “Honestly, I feel fine. I could use a shower, though.”

“You’re more than welcome to take one.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a shower chair, would you?”

“I do not,” he admits. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay,” I smile. “I’ll just lean against the wall.”

Mitchell sits up slightly, concern shadowing his handsome features. “Actually,” he says, “my shower has a built-in stool. Would that work for you?”

Relief floods me, and I nod. “Yeah, that should be fine. Thanks.”

He moves to stand, the sheets sliding off his torso, and I force myself to focus on anything but the way his muscles ripple with the simple motion. When did he take his shirt off?

“Let me grab you some towels,” he says, his voice calm and reassuring.

“Thanks,” I reply, ignoring the sudden heat crawling up my neck.

A few minutes later, I’m in his bathroom, the warm, modern space unexpectedly soothing. The shower is spacious, with sleek tiles and, just as he said, a built-in stool tucked into one corner. It’s a walk-in shower, but the stool is too far away for me to slide onto, so I take one of my crutches with me and place the other one near the door within reach.

I glance up at the showerhead and sigh. It does detach, but I’m going to have to hop over there and get it. With some careful maneuvering, I manage to get the head and sit back down. It only just reaches, but that’s okay. I can’t expect everyone’s bathroom to be accessible to my needs.

For a moment, the heat of the water feels like magic, washing away the aches and the tension from the night before. I use the soap I find and scrub quickly, trying not to overstay my welcome. But as I stand to rinse off, the slick tiles betray me.

My foot slips, and I fall back on the stool, my heart racing. Damn it. I hate moments like this. It’s just a reminder of how much harder everything is. Gritting my teeth, I finish rinsing off and stand with the help of my crutch. Then, carefully, I take a few steps across the shower to turn the water off and place the shower head back.

By the time I manage to step out of the shower, my heart is pounding in my ears, but I’m safe. Wrapping a towel tightly around myself, I glance at the steam-fogged mirror and exhale sharply. My clothes are on the sink, but I don’t want to risk walking across the floor. Deciding to open the door and sit on the bed while the room dries out, I grab my crutches, both wet and dry, and make my way across the room.

Opening the door cautiously, I limp into the attached room I was in before, only to stop short.

Mitchell is there, holding a neatly folded stack of clothes. His eyes widen as they meet mine, his gaze dropping briefly before snapping back to my face. The air between us shifts, thickening with something unspoken.

“Uh,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I brought you something to wear. Thought you might need it.”

“Thanks,” I manage, my voice quieter than I’d like. His expression is unreadable, but the way his eyes darken sends a shiver through me, not from the cold but from the tension humming between us.

He takes a small step closer, his towering frame somehow comforting instead of intimidating. “You okay?” he asks softly, his voice low, intimate.

I nod, swallowing hard. “Just... slippery floor,” I admit, gesturing toward the bathroom.

His jaw tightens, and for a second, I think he’s going to lecture me about being careful. Instead, he surprises me. “Next time, I’ll stay close. Just in case,” he murmurs.

The simple offer stirs something inside me. Vulnerability wars with desire as I stand there, wrapped in nothing but a towel, with Mitchell’s eyes holding mine like a lifeline.

However, as sweet as the offer is, I need him to understand that I need to keep my independence. So, I open my mouth to say exactly that.

“Okay,” I whisper instead.

Neither of us moves, the tension crackling like a live wire between us. His fingers twitch as if he wants to reach for me, and I realize, with startling clarity, that I wouldn’t stop him if he did.

Then he gazes down, and reality slaps me across the face.

My freaking stump is uncovered for all the world to see.

“Please don’t,” I beg, my voice trembling. My arms instinctively drop to shield what’s left of my leg as if that will somehow make it disappear. “Don’t look at it.”

His brows knit together in confusion. “Evie...”

“No,” I interrupt, my voice firmer this time. “It’s ugly, okay? I know it’s healed, and the scar isn’t that bad, but…”

“Stop.”

The single word is quiet but commands my full attention. Mitchell’s gaze is intense, his eyes locking onto mine with such raw honesty it’s almost too much to bear.

“It’s not ugly,” he says, his voice steady, leaving no room for argument. “And you don’t get to tell me what I see when I look at you.”

I shake my head, unable to meet his eyes. “You’re just being kind. I know what I look like now. I’m not…”

“Evie,” he interrupts again, stepping closer. The heat of his body is palpable, pulling me in despite my embarrassment. “You have no idea, do you?”

“Mitchell, please.”

But before I can finish, he closes the distance between us, one hand tilting my chin up so I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says, his words firm like he’s staking a claim.

My breath catches, and I want to believe him, but years of self-doubt rise to the surface. “You don’t mean that,” I whisper.

His jaw tightens, and something flickers in his eyes. Determination, maybe? “Do you trust me?” he asks softly, his tone almost pleading.

I hesitate, the weight of his question pressing down on me. Trust. It’s such a simple word, but holds so much power. I hardly know this man. Heck, no one seems to really know him. But I want to get to know him. And everything in me believes that he’s a kind man.

Mitchell holds his breath as my heart and brain wrestle with one another, his eyes searching mine for an answer. Finally, I nod. “Yes,” I murmur.

The tension in his shoulders eases, but his intensity doesn’t waver. Slowly, he moves his hands to the knot of my towel, his movements deliberate, giving me every opportunity to stop him. When I don’t, he pulls the fabric free, letting it fall to the floor.

My instinct is to cover myself, but Mitchell doesn’t let me. He lifts me effortlessly, his strong arms cradling me as if I weigh nothing, and carries me the few steps to the bed. Gently, he sets me down, his hands never leaving my skin.

“You are breathtaking,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion as he kneels beside the bed, his gaze trailing over me like a reverent caress. “Every part of you, Evie. Every scar, every curve. Everything.”

Tears sting my eyes as I try to process his words. “I don’t know if I can believe you,” I admit, my voice barely audible.

He leans in, his lips brushing against mine in a kiss so tender it steals my breath. “Then let me show you,” he whispers against my mouth.

Mitchell’s hands glide down my arms, steadying me, grounding me as though he knows I’m seconds away from losing myself to the weight of this moment. The kiss deepens, but he doesn’t rush. Every movement feels deliberate, his lips exploring mine as though I’m something fragile and precious.

When he pulls back, I feel the loss instantly. He rests his forehead against mine, his breath mingling with my own. “Let me take care of you, Evie,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers racing down my spine.

Unable to speak, I nod. He presses a soft kiss to my lips before trailing his mouth along my jaw, then down to the sensitive spot beneath my ear. My body reacts to him, warmth blooming under every touch, every kiss.

Mitchell shifts, easing me back onto the bed as his hands trace over me. His touch is reverent, fingers skimming my sides, my stomach, the curve of my hip. He pauses, his gaze flickering up to mine, searching for any sign of hesitation.

“You’re safe with me,” he whispers. “Always.”

The sincerity in his voice sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over me, but there’s no time to dwell on it because his lips are on my skin again. He kisses down my neck, his hands sliding to my thighs, parting them gently.

I tense for a moment, the insecurity about my body creeping in, but Mitchell is patient, his touch unyielding in its tenderness. “You’re perfect, Evie,” he says softly as if reading my thoughts.

Before I can respond, his mouth moves lower, and I gasp. Every kiss, every flick of his tongue is deliberate, a slow, sensual unraveling that leaves me clinging to the sheets.

My heart pounds as his lips explore me, his hands anchoring me in place. He takes his time as if his only goal is to learn every reaction, every sound I make. It’s overwhelming in the best way, a heady mix of vulnerability and pleasure that consumes me entirely.

“Mitchell,” I whisper, my voice breaking on his name.

His gaze lifts briefly, meeting mine, and the intensity in his eyes steals the air from my lungs. “I’ve got you,” he says, his voice rough but steady. “Let me take care of you, Princess.”

And I do.

With a growl, Mitchell dives for my pussy. He doesn’t tease. He simply devours me. Eating as if his very life depends on it.

Time feels meaningless as the sensations build, wave after wave crashing over me until I shatter, my body trembling beneath his touch. Mitchell doesn’t stop, guiding me through it, holding me together as I come undone.

When the world finally settles, I realize he’s moved back up, his lips pressing soft kisses along my shoulder, my collarbone, and my jaw. Not once does he touch my stump. But I think he avoided it mainly for me. I’m not even sure how I would have reacted.

“You okay?” he asks.

I nod, my throat too tight to speak, and wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer. He holds me, his warmth seeping into me as I struggle to find the right words.

“You didn’t have to…”

“Evie,” he cuts me off gently, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’ve craved you from the moment I met you. Now that I’ve had a taste, I want more.”

“Do I get to taste you?” I ask shyly, my cheeks warming at my own boldness.

His smirk deepens, a flash of heat igniting in his eyes. “Do you want to?” he teases, his voice dropping an octave. “Because I gotta say, baby, having your lips wrapped around my cock might just be the best feeling in the world.”

The sheer honesty in his words sends a thrill coursing through me, and I draw in a shaky breath. “Yeah,” I whisper. “I want that.”

His expression softens, though his smirk remains. “How do you want me?” he asks, cockiness laced with genuine curiosity as if he’s giving me the reins to guide us.

“Standing,” I say, my heart pounding as the vision forms in my mind. My cheeks heat, but I hold his gaze, my voice steadier than I expect. “I can kneel on my knees just fine.”

The playful smirk on his lips shifts into something darker, something filled with pure, raw need. “You sure, baby?” he asks, his tone both gentle and edged with desire.

I nod, the anticipation sparking between us like an electric current. “I’m sure.”

Mitchell’s chest rises and falls with a deep breath, and he steps back slightly, giving me room as he reaches for the button of his pants. His movements are deliberate, almost teasing, as he lets them slide down his legs, leaving him standing in just his briefs. The prominent bulge there makes my stomach flip.

When he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and pushes them down, I swear time slows. The sheer sight of him, powerful and utterly confident, steals every coherent thought from my head.

I shift, lowering myself carefully to my knees, making sure I’m stable as I lean back slightly for balance. He steps closer, and the heat rolling off him is almost overwhelming.

Mitchell runs a hand through my hair, his touch tender, but his voice is rough with need. “You’re so damn beautiful down there, Evie. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

I tilt my head up, meeting his gaze. “Show me,” I say softly, the words holding a weight of their own.

Mitchell exhales sharply at my words, the tension between us thick and palpable. His hand lingers in my hair, fingers threading through the strands as if anchoring himself. “You’re going to wreck me,” he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse.

I reach out, my fingers trembling slightly as they graze his thighs, the hard muscle beneath my touch making my breath hitch. The sheer heat of his skin contrasts with the cool air, and when I wrap my hand around him, he groans deeply, the sound vibrating through the air.

Slowly, I stroke him, feeling the weight of him in my palm, marveling at how perfect he feels. He’s big, thick, and hot, and I find myself wanting to explore every inch of him. My nerves fade as his reactions fuel my confidence.

“Evie,” he grits out, his hips jerking slightly. His hand tightens in my hair, not pulling, just holding me there as though grounding himself.

Leaning forward, I press a kiss to his tip, my lips soft against the smooth skin. The sharp intake of his breath is all the encouragement I need. I part my lips and take him into my mouth, inch by inch, until I can’t take more.

“Fuck,” he groans, his free hand curling into a fist at his side. “You’re incredible.”

I hum around him, the vibration pulling another deep groan from his chest. Slowly, I move, finding a rhythm, my tongue swirling and teasing as I hollow my cheeks. His hips twitch, and the way his body reacts to me sends a heady rush of power through me.

Mitchell’s breaths grow ragged, his fingers flexing against my scalp as he watches me. “Look at you,” he rasps. “So damn perfect, baby.”

His praise ignites something within me, and I take him deeper, my hand stroking what I can’t reach. The low, broken sounds he makes are addictive, and I want to hear more.

“Stop,” he suddenly says, his voice strained. I freeze, looking up at him, startled.

He meets my gaze, his eyes dark with need and something deeper. “If you don’t pull back, I’m going to come in your mouth,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

I narrow my eyes at his warning and continue my menstruation. I swear, I can feel him swell with each passing second.

“You want that, Princess?” he says. “You want me to come down your throat?”

I moan my answer and narrow my cheeks. That’s what it takes for him to lose control. Holding my head in place by the grip he has on my hair, he takes over, thrusting carefully with wild movements. Wanting to feel him deeper, at his next thrust, I shove my head forward and am rewarded with his whole cock in my mouth.

“Fuck,” he screams. His release comes suddenly, and warm jets shoot down my throat. My tongue continues to work as he holds me in place, and I can do nothing more but accept his gift.

Finally, he releases me and I inhale a much-needed breath. He falls onto the bed and laughs. Luckily, he was close enough that his legs didn’t move, or I would have fallen.

A wave of pride and desire washes over me as I watch Mitchell try to catch his breath.

Reaching down, I rub my clit, needing to come again. The need is overwhelming. Hearing me moan, Mitchell sits up, raising his brows.

“Did sucking my cock make my baby wet?” he chuckles, slowly stroking his softening cock. “So fucking sexy. Lean back some, Evie, so I can watch.”

Using my free arm to brace myself, I lean back. From this angle, I just know that he can see everything.

“Slide those fingers in deep, baby,” he orders. “Let me watch you fuck yourself.”

Moaning, I leave my clit and do as I was ordered.

“It’s not enough, huh?” he says, sliding to his knees before me. “Tell me, Princess, are you a virgin?”

I shake my head, pushing my fingers inside of me as fast and as hard as I can.

“Thank fuck,” he moans. “Remove your hands from my pussy and lay down.”

What? I desperately need release. Why can’t he see that?

“Now, Evie,” he growls, and I can’t help but stop. Frustrated, I lay down.

“Good girl,” he says, crawling up my body with his knees on either side of me. “Now, I want you to suck me until I’m hard again. Got it?”

I nod eagerly.

When did I forget how to freaking talk?

“All you have to do is suck, baby,” he says. “I’m going to fuck your mouth, and when I’m ready, I’m going to fuck your pussy. Are you okay with that?”

Again, I nod.

“My Princess lost her voice,” he chuckles. “Open for me, baby.”

I do. I open for him, and he slides deep inside my throat. I want to gag, but at the same time, I want more.

Reaching between his legs, I circle my clit again.

“Play with that pussy all you want, Princess,” he groans as he slides in and out of my mouth. “But don’t you dare fucking come until my dick is inside of you.”

Not fair.

I lose track of how long I lay there while he uses my mouth to get hard, but any ounce of softness is now gone. He pulls himself out of my mouth and jumps to his feet. Leaning down, he gently pushes my hand away from my clit, lifts me up, and tosses me on the bed.

I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper and look up to see him watching me as he covers himself with the protection.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he says, his eyes filled with fire and need. “One day, gonna fuck you bare. But not until we’re both ready for the consequences it may cause.”

Babies? Is he talking about babies?

“Gonna stretch that pretty pussy with my fingers first,” he says. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

“No,” I shout.

Oh, there’s my voice.

“I mean, I’m not a virgin, and I’m so very wet,” I explain calmly. “I want the burn, Mitchell. I need it. Please?”

He looks at me for a moment, searching for my truth.

Nodding, he grabs the back of my knees, one hand touching my stump, and pulls me to the end of the bed. Pressing my knees back, he raises a brow and thrusts his entire length inside of me.

The burn is intense, but it feels so freaking good.

“More,” I beg on a whisper. “Please, move. I need more.”

And he does. He moves hard, and he moves fast. He thrusts so hard that he keeps having to pull me back to the edge of the bed. I feel the sting as he slams into me so deeply.

But, even still…

“More.”

“Greedy, Princess,” he grunts. “Greedy fucking pussy.”

He pulls out, and I nearly cry. Climbing on the bed, he moves me up before grabbing my hips and turning me onto my stomach in one movement.

“More, she demands,” he says from above. “My baby likes her pussy in pain, I see. I wonder if she would like her ass in pain, too. I’ll find out. But not today.”

Okay, so he’s talking to himself.

“Keep your legs together, baby,” he orders. “Look at your pretty pussy just peeking at me from this angle. Makes me hungry.”

I whine. I don’t want him to eat me. I want him to fuck me.

He grabs my ass cheeks and spreads them. My brain is telling me to be embarrassed, but my body only cries out for him more.

“I will be taking this ass soon, Princess,” he says, his voice filled with hunger. “I might not even stretch you very much before I fuck it. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Please,” I beg, reaching beneath my body and finding my clit.

“Yeah, baby,” he groans. “Play with yourself while I fuck you.”

In one swift motion, he enters me. The angle of my body causes him to go deeper, and I yell out. He’s thrusting harder, faster than before.

“So. Fucking. Good.” He says with each thrust. “I can feel you started to tighten around me, baby. Come for me, Princess. Come for me, now.”

The pressure just keeps building. I’ve never felt like this before. I’m on the verge of freaking the heck out when Mitchell changes his angle, and that’s all it takes. The pressure becomes too much, and I explode. The room around me darkens, but I feel the moment he slams into me one last time and holds himself there.

The darkness fades, and I find myself lying beside Mitchell, a blanket covering my shivering body.

“There you are,” he whispers. He’s leaning on his elbow, looking down at me. “I’ve got you, baby. Come back to me.”

“What happened?” I ask, feeling more relaxed than I ever have.

“You just soared a bit too high for a moment,” he smiles. “Never seen anything more beautiful in my life than you finding that release, Princess.”

My lips tingle, and my heart pounds as he leans down, kissing me softly.

“You are incredible,” he says again, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. His forehead presses against mine, and for a moment, the world narrows to just us. Our breaths mingling, hearts pounding in unison.

“You are really good at that,” I admit, my face burning.

A crooked smile tugs at his lips. “And you,” he says, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips, “are everything I never knew I needed.”