Chapter 7 - Echo
She steps forward.
Just one step, closing half the distance between us. Her hazel eyes are wide and uncertain but determined. She's scared as hell and doing it anyway.
What kind of man would I be if I let her come to me? If I made her take all the risk while I stood here waiting? I taunted her. Told her to kiss me if she wanted to. And she stepped forward, meeting me halfway.
Now it's on me to take the reins.
I close the remaining distance in one stride and pull her into me, one hand sliding into her hair, the other gripping her waist. She gasps against my mouth just as I capture it with mine.
I kiss her like I've been starving. Like she's oxygen and I've been drowning. Like nothing else in the world matters except the taste of her lips and the feel of her body pressed against mine.
Her mouth is exactly as I remember. Those beautiful, plump lips I thought I'd never kiss again. She makes a desperate sound in the back of her throat, and her hands come up to clutch at my shoulders.
Not pushing away. Pulling closer.
God, I missed this. Missed her. Missed the way she tastes like coffee and something sweet underneath. Missed the way her body fits against mine like we were made for each other.
I deepen the kiss, tongue sliding against hers. She opens for me immediately, no hesitation. Her fingers dig into my shoulders hard enough that I'll probably have marks later. Good. I want her marks on me.
We move without planning it, stumbling sideways across the room, still kissing, mouths fused together. My back hits the dresser. We spin and her back hits the wall. Neither of us willing to break apart even long enough to breathe.
I walk us backward until we're near the bed, then change direction. The desk. The window. Moving constantly, consuming each other.
Hannah's hands slide down my chest to the hem of my shirt. She tugs at it impatiently, frustrated. I break the kiss just long enough to grab the back of my collar and yank the shirt over my head. It falls on the floor somewhere behind me.
She stares at my bare chest, eyes squinted with pure lust. Runs her hands over my skin like she's remembering me. When her fingers trace over the scar on my ribs, I catch her wrist gently.
"Your turn," I say, voice rough.
She doesn't hesitate. Just grabs her own shirt, pulls it off, and lets it fall beside mine. She's wearing a plain beige bra, nothing fancy. It doesn't matter. She's fucking gorgeous. Curves everywhere. Soft stomach, full breasts, hips I want to grip while I make her forget her own name.
"You're staring," she says, a hint of self-consciousness creeping in.
"Can't help it." I pull her back against me, skin to skin. "You're beautiful, and I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you."
Her breath hitches, and I kiss her until she's making those desperate sounds again. Until her hands are clawing at my back.
We're moving again. Swirling around the room, knocking into furniture, completely consumed by each other. Her back hits the wall near the window. Afternoon light streams through, catching in her hair.
I pull back slightly, breathing hard. Need to see her. Need to make sure this is real. Her lips are swollen from kissing. Cheeks flushed. Eyes dark with desire and something else, probably need, trust, hope.
"Are you sure?" she asks breathlessly. Her hands are still on my chest, fingers splayed over my heart. "About never leaving. About us being family. About all of it."
I catch her face in my hands, making sure she's looking at me when I answer. "I'm sure. I've never been surer of anything in my life."
"Promise?"
"Promise. You and Theo are my family now. Will always be my family. Nothing changes that."
She searches my face for any hint of a lie. Won't find one. I mean every fucking word. Something changes in her expression. The last bit of fear recedes, replaced by certainty. She smiles, wide and so beautiful it almost hurts to look at.
The prettiest smile I've ever seen.
"Then claim me," she says, voice low and challenging. "Right here. Right now. If you're so sure about it."
Heat shoots straight to my cock at her words. This woman. This brave, broken, beautiful woman who just handed me everything.
I smirk. "You know me well enough to know I love a good challenge."
Before she can respond, I scoop her up. She gasps, wraps her arms around my neck, and I carry her the few steps to the sturdy desk in the corner and set her on the edge.
She's at the perfect height now. Legs dangling. Eyes level with my chest. Completely at my mercy.
"Lean back," I tell her. "Against the wall. Just lean back and enjoy."
She does, tilting her head back against the wall behind the desk. The position makes her back arch slightly, breasts pushed forward. Her chest heaves with each breath, making them bounce slightly.
I drop to my knees in front of her.
Her eyes go wide. "Wesley—"
"Shh. I said enjoy. So enjoy."
I start at her feet. Slip off her shoes one at a time, setting them aside. Then my hands slide up her calves to her knees. She shivers under my touch but doesn't pull away.
I lean forward and press a gentle kiss just above her left knee. Then another slightly higher. Working my way up her thigh slowly.
"Wesley," she breathes. Her hands grip the edge of the desk like she needs something to hold onto.
I switch to her right leg. Start at the knee again. Kiss my way up, inch by inch, while her breathing gets faster and her legs start trembling.
When I reach the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, she whimpers. The sound goes straight to my cock but I ignore it. This isn't about me. This is about showing her exactly what it means to be claimed by me.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her jeans. "Lift up."
She does, hips rising off the desk. I pull the jeans down slowly, taking her underwear with them. Simple cotton panties that match the bra. They join the pile of clothes on the floor.
Now she's bare before me except for that bra and her socks. Legs spread. Back against the wall. Chest heaving.
Fucking perfect.
"Look at you," I murmur, running my hands up her thighs again. "So goddamn beautiful."
"Wesley, please—"
"Please what?" I kiss her inner thigh, dangerously close to where she wants me. "Tell me what you need."
"You. I need you."
Good enough.
I grip her thighs and spread them wider. She gasps, hands flying to my hair. I look up at her one more time, see the trust and want in her eyes, then lean forward and put my mouth on her.
She cries out, loud enough that anyone downstairs definitely heard. I don't give a fuck. Let them hear. Let everyone know she's mine.
I drag my tongue through her folds slowly. She's already wet, already ready for me, and I take my time anyway to relearn her taste and how good it feels on my tongue.
"Oh God," she gasps. Her fingers tighten in my hair, pulling hard enough to sting. "Wesley—"
I seal my lips around her clit and suck it. She bucks against my mouth, a broken moan tearing from her throat. Her thighs try to close around my head, but I hold them open, keeping her spread for me.
I work her with my tongue: slow circles, gentle flicks, varying the pressure and speed based on the sounds she makes. When I find a rhythm that makes her cry out, I stay there. Keep doing exactly that.
"Please," she gasps. "Please, I need—"
I know what she needs.
I slide two fingers inside her while my tongue continues working her clit. She's tight, so fucking tight it takes a second for her body to adjust. Then she opens for me, wet and ready.
"Look at me," I tell her.
Her eyes flutter open. She looks down at me, and the vulnerability in her gaze nearly undoes me. This strong woman who's survived everything life threw at her, coming apart under my mouth. I hold her stare while I curl my fingers inside her and press harder with my tongue.
She breaks eye contact, head falling back against the wall with a thud. "Fuck—I can't—Wesley—"
"You can," I murmur against her. "Come for me, Hannah. Let go."
I pump my fingers steadily while my tongue maintains relentless pressure on her clit. Her thighs start shaking. Her breathing becomes ragged and desperate. Her whole body goes taut like a bow string pulled too tight.
"Wesley! I'm—oh God—"
"That's it. Give it to me."
I press harder with my fingers, curl them at just the right angle, and suck her clit at the same time.
She screams my name, back arching off the wall, thighs clamping around my head despite my grip on them. Her pussy clenches around my fingers, pulsing with each wave of pleasure.
I work her through it, gentling my touch as the waves start to subside but not stopping completely. Drawing out every last tremor. Every last aftershock.
When she finally goes limp, collapsing back against the wall, I press one last soft kiss to her inner thigh before sitting back on my heels.
She's fucking beautiful like this. Completely wrecked. Hair a mess. Skin flushed from her chest to her cheeks. Breathing like she just ran a marathon.
Mine.
I watch her chest heave as she tries to remember how to breathe. Watch the way the afternoon light catches on her skin, making her glow. Watch the exact moment awareness returns to her eyes and she looks at me.
"Holy shit," she whispers.
I can't help the smirk that crosses my face. "Yeah."
"I forgot—" She stops, shakes her head. "I forgot what it was like with you. How you make me feel."
"How do I make you feel?"
"Safe. Cherished. Like I can let go completely and you'll catch me." Her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. "Like maybe I'm not alone anymore."
That's exactly what I want to give her. What I'll spend the rest of my life giving her if she lets me.
"You're not alone," I tell her. "Not anymore. Not ever again."
She reaches for me, hand shaking slightly. I take it and press a kiss to her palm. She watches me with something like wonder in her eyes.
"I'm starting to believe that," she says.
"Good," I say, still on my knees before her. "Because we're just getting started."
She smirks, that challenging, beautiful smirk that drove me crazy months ago and is doing the same damn thing now.
"I was hoping you'd say that," she says, voice husky. "Because I missed your cock, Wesley. Missed the way you feel inside me."
Fuck. I stand up slowly, watching her track every movement. She's still leaning back against the wall, legs spread, completely open to me.
"Yeah?" I reach for my belt. "My cock missed you too. Hasn't stopped thinking about being buried inside you since you left."
I unbuckle the belt and pop the button on my jeans. The sound seems loud in the quiet room. Hannah's breathing picks up again, her eyes locked on my hands as I slowly lower the zipper.
I push the jeans down my hips and step out of them, kicking them aside to join the rest of our clothes. Now I'm standing in front of her in just my briefs, my cock straining against the fabric so hard it's almost painful.
Hannah's eyes drop to the obvious bulge. She bites her lip, and I swear I get even harder at the sight.
"Come here," she says, extending her hands toward me.
I step between her spread thighs. She immediately reaches for me, palms sliding over my chest, down my abs, lower. When her fingers brush over my cock through the briefs, I hiss out a breath.
"Hannah—"
"Shh," she says, using my own words against me. "My turn."
She hooks her fingers into the waistband of my briefs and tugs them down. My cock springs free, thick and throbbing. Her eyes go wide like she'd forgotten exactly how big I am.
"Fuck," she breathes.
Then her hand wraps around me and I nearly lose my mind.
She strokes me slowly, from base to tip, thumb swiping over the head to gather the precum there. The sensation is almost too much after months of nothing but my own hand and memories of her.
"Hannah," I grit out. "If you keep doing that, this is going to be over way too fast."
She looks up at me through her lashes. "Then stop me."
Instead, she strokes me again. Tighter this time. Using the precum to ease the glide. My hips jerk forward on their own.
"Need you inside," she says, voice urgent now. "Right now, Wesley. I need to feel you."
Yeah. I fucking need that too.
I catch her wrist gently, stopping her movements before I embarrass myself.
"Have you been with someone else since we stopped seeing each other?"
She shakes her head. "I haven't been with anyone. Have you?"
"No one. Just you. Always just you."
"Good! Then fuck me," Hannah says, pulling me closer with her legs wrapped around my hips. "Claim me properly. Make me yours."
Best damn words I've ever heard.