Page 23 of Presence

“Yes, I did,” I reply.

And before I know it, his lips are on mine.

8

Waterfall Incident

In hindsight, I can’t actually tell who initiated the kiss. At first, I thought it was him, the handsome spirit who visits my dreams. But then I realized we’d met halfway. We both moved.

When our lips clash, I flow with it. Because the way Echo tastes? It makes me want to lose control. He tastes like the deep forest after a rain—rich with the scents of earth and growth, wild and raw, and brimming with desire. His tongue entwines with mine, exploring my mouth like a man starved.

His hands roam over my back, tracing the contours of my spine with a touch that ignites fire along my skin. He pulls me closer until there’s no space left between us, only the rush of our breaths mingling in the humid air.

He spins both of us around, my back hitting the smooth rock as Echo locks me between himself and the cool stone. The waterfall’s thunder and the birds’ distant calls fade into a background hum against the pounding of my heart.

Our kiss breaks for a brief moment, just long enough for me to take him in. His alabaster skin looks vibrant against the backdrop of the cascading water. His eyes are hooded, his lips wet and parted, his gaze fixed on my lips. In this moment, he looks like the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

Then he moves even closer, his hands reaching for my thighs. Instinctively, I know what to do. I leap up, wrapping my legs around his hips as we press against the rock together. The chill from the rock seeps through my wet clothes, but his body feels like a furnace against mine, keeping the cold at bay.

His breath catches slightly as I press myself against him, his strong arms holding me securely. I feel his hardness against me, creating a delicious pressure that makes me gasp in response.

“Fuck,” I whisper. “Why does this feel so real?”

I noticed before that my senses seemed sharper, and everything felt more intense. But that was when I focused on the water’s current pushing me back, or how I couldn’t keep a secret because I just had to share it. This… this is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

“Hm?” Echo murmurs, dipping his head, his lips tracing a path from my ear down to my collarbone, each kiss sending a cascade of goosebumps across my skin. He lifts me higher, like I weigh nothing.

“Your touch,” I gasp. “It’s not real and yet…”

“Who said it’s not real?” he groans, digging his fingers harder into my thighs as if he didn’t like what I said. “Just because it’s not happening in your world doesn’t mean it’s not real.” He gives me a long lick from my collarbone to my neck, then brings his lips to my ear again. “Does this feel fake, Claire?” He grinds his hips into me.

Oh, holy angels… The friction of his cock against me makes every nerve in my body sing. I roll my eyes back and stifle a moan as a pure white vision blinds me.

“No,” I manage to say, my breaths shallow. Bringing my hands to his neck, I fist one into his hair as warmth spreads through me. It feels like I’m melting, becoming one big jelly in his arms as he grinds into me again. This is ridiculous. For it to feel this good with our clothes still on…

“Exactly,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice a low growl that vibrates through me. “That’s because it’s not.”

His words sink in, heavy with meaning, grounding my scattered thoughts into a single, undeniable truth—he’s right, this experience is beyond ordinary. It’s visceral, tangible, as real as anything in any world. It also helps me discover my own truth.

“This pleasure,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I want to feel more of it.”

He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense, searching mine for any sign of doubt. Finding none, he smiles, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that suggests he knows exactly what I’m talking about.

“Don’t tell me,” he says, his words like a spell. “Mean it. Intend it.”

And I do. I want him to touch me as if it’s the last thing I’ll ever feel. I close my eyes and press against him, moaning softly as sweat beads on my forehead. I want to be free, to soar in his arms like an eagle with the world below me and my problems like ants. I want this man with me, taking me, caressing me, pleasuring me.

I don’t care if he’s my guardian spirit or not. I want him. I need him. I’m going to have him.

“Just like that,” he purrs. “You’re such a good girl for me, Claire.”

His words send a thrill through me, mingling with the rush of the waterfall—a dark, melodious sound. His praise, with a hint of possessiveness, feels like a reward, sparking an even deeper craving inside me. I know he’s reading my mind, knowing exactly what I like. It used to make me uncomfortable. Now, I wonder why I ever resisted.

His hands move skillfully, driving me wild. He traces the contours of my body, teasing my skin. His fingers hook against my bikini bra, unhooking it quickly, letting it rest loosely against my breasts, held only by the touch of his chest. I want it to fall off so badly that I wiggle against him, hot breaths escaping my lips.

“Yes, Little Soul,” he continues. “Let yourself feel everything.”

I nod, words failing me, tightening my grip around him. My world narrows to the here and now.

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