Chapter Nineteen #4
I slide two fingers inside her, slow and steady, curling them until her back bows.
Her free hand grips my shoulder, nails biting in, but I don’t speed up.
I fuck her with my fingers at an unhurried pace, thumb still working her clit, until she’s panting and trembling beneath me.
Her walls flutter, close to the edge, and I ease off just enough to keep her hovering there.
“Wolfe, please—”
“I’ve got you.” I kiss her again, deeper, and finally line myself up. I push in inch by inch, watching her face the whole time, until I’m buried to the hilt. We both groan. I stay still for a long moment, forehead pressed to hers, breathing her in.
I keep the rhythm slow, each thrust a deliberate glide that makes her breath catch.
My cock drags along her inner walls, thick and steady, and I feel every flutter, every squeeze.
Her hand stays pinned above her head, fingers laced tight with mine, while my other palm roams—stroking the curve of her hip, sliding up to cup her breast, thumb brushing over the tight peak of her nipple.
“That’s it,” I murmur, voice low and warm. “Just like that. So fucking good for me.”
Echo’s eyes stay locked on mine, dark and hazy. Her lips part around a shaky exhale every time I bottom out. I grind in deep, rolling my hips in a slow circle that makes her thighs tremble around me. She clenches hard, and I groan, praising her again.
“Fuck, wa?yé?a… feel how tight you get when I do that?”
I pull back until just the head of my cock is inside her, then push in again, inch by inch, letting her feel every ridge and vein.
Her free hand grips my shoulder, nails digging in, but I don’t speed up.
I keep the pace unhurried, savoring the way her body opens for me, the wet sounds of her pussy taking me again and again.
Her gaze starts to slip, lids heavy, so I slow even more—almost a grind now, deep and steady.
“Thats it,” I whisper.
She forces her eyes open, and the sight of her like this, flushed and trembling, makes my chest ache. I lean down, kissing her softly, then trail my mouth along her jaw.
“Oh fuck—” She whimpers, hips lifting to meet mine.
I release her hand just long enough to slide my arm under her shoulders, pulling her closer so our bodies press together from chest to hip. My thrusts stay deep and measured, the head of my cock nudging that sensitive spot inside her with every stroke.
Her walls flutter again, tighter this time, and I know she’s close.
I don’t rush her. I keep moving, slow and sure, whispering against her ear.
“That’s it. Feel it build. Shine for me, little firefly. Give me everything.”
Her breath hitches, breaks. The first pulse of her orgasm is quiet—a soft, broken sound that turns into my name as her body clamps down around me. I keep thrusting through it, drawing it out, feeling every ripple and squeeze.
Only when she’s shaking and gasping do I let go, hips stuttering as I come deep inside her, forehead pressed to hers, breathing her in.
We stay like that, bodies locked, my cock still pulsing, her pussy still fluttering around me. I don’t pull out right away. I kiss her slowly, lazily, tasting the salt on her skin, until our breathing evens and the urgency fades into something softer.
Echo’s voice comes out hoarse, barely above a whisper.
“Now it feels like a date,”
“Smart ass,”
She lets out a soft, breathless laugh that turns into a moan when I grind against her again.
Finally, her breathing evens out while her fingertip traces the lines of one of my tattoos. Every so often her hand drifts up into my hair, nails scratching lightly along my scalp before she returns to whatever shape she’s decided needs studying.
It feels good enough that I’m starting to lose the fight to stay awake.
“You keep doing that and I’m passing out.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
“I thought you liked me.”
“I do. Doesn’t mean I need you conscious.”
I laugh and tighten my arm around her.
The room has gone quiet, rain tapping softly against the window while Echo traces lazy lines over my ribs. Usually, when things get too intimate, she fills the silence with a joke. Tonight, she doesn’t.
I think about the paddock. About how everyone goes straight to her now, how hard she works without ever seeming to realize nobody’s asking her to prove herself anymore.
“You know you don’t have to earn your place with us, right?”
Her finger stills.
“That feels suspiciously deep for this time of night.”
I smile and brush some hair from her face. “I’m serious. You act like if you stop being useful, somebody’s going to ask why you’re still here.”
Her eyes drop to my chest.
“I don’t really know how not to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make sure I’m worth keeping around.”
I slide my hand to the back of her neck. “You already are.”
She’s quiet for a second before resting her cheek against me again.
“I’m working on believing that.”
I kiss the top of her head.
“Good. You’ve got time.”
Her hand slips into my hair, and I close my eyes, listening as her breathing slowly evens out and she drifts to sleep against my chest.
Yeah.
I could do this for the rest of my life.