Page 125 of Hidden Echoes

"Good boy, that's my little angel," I say as his hands explore my body and his eyes shine with desire at my words.

I place my hands on his chest, removing his shirt, and bring my mouth to his neck, muffling the sounds escaping me. Sounds I never thought I was capable of making so naturally.

"Mine," I whisper as I mark him, and he smiles.

"Yours."

His words ignite something deep inside me, and the tension builds, unbearably slow, winding tighter with each second. My body surrenders completely, giving in to the wild, intoxicating release that pulses through me, leaving me breathless and trembling, drowning in the bliss of it all.

I can barely snap out of the trance when Zane’s phone rings, breaking the moment. He lets out a frustrated sound before answering it, still holding me in his lap.

I trail soft kisses along his neck, my lips burning with the urge to explore every inch of his skin. But something holds me back, and I can’t help but hesitate.

Or maybe... maybe I should just go for it.

Summoning my courage, I slide my mouth down to his chest, feeling him inhale sharply, a breath caught between his lips. He mutters something into the phone, his voice low and distracted, “We’ll deal with this later,” before his attention shifts back to me completely.

"I want to touch you," I whisper against his mouth, my lips barely grazing his.

Zane’s breath hitches, and for a second, he doesn’t move. I feel the heat of his skin, the tension in the space between us, crackling like something alive.

His hands flex at his sides, like he’s fighting himself.

“You already are,” he murmurs, voice low, almost strained.

I smile against him, fingers trailing over the sharp lines of his jaw, down the column of his throat. He swallows hard, and I feel it beneath my touch.

“Not enough,” I confess, my voice barely a whisper as I press closer, my body molding to his. “Never enough. You did exactly what I asked... you deserve your reward.” My words linger, dripping with hunger, as I let the tension between us build, knowing exactly how badly he craves it.

He exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against mine like he’s trying to steady himself. I know him. I know the war raging inside of him.

“Mia…” My name is a warning, rough and frayed, but there’s no real fight in it.

I tilt my head, brushing my nose against his. “Zane.”

I know how to suck cock; I’ve just never felt pleasure doing it.

Until Zane.

The thought of putting my mouth on him is so tempting it makes the sensations in my chest spill over, too overwhelming to contain.

I need him—every part of him—like I need to breathe.

Damn, he has a hot body. That’s all I can think as my gaze trails over the sharp dips and curves of his muscles, the way his tattoos stretch and move with every slow breath he takes. Some of those tattoos were done by me, and the realization sends a giddy thrill through my chest, warm and intoxicating. It’s proof that I’ve left a mark on him—something permanent, something no one else can erase.

I want to leave more.

The thought grips me with a sudden urgency, a possessiveness so intense it almost makes me dizzy. It’s not just about touching him—it’s about knowing him in a way no one else ever will.

I want to memorize the heat of his skin, the quiet shivers he tries to suppress, the exact way he unravels under my hands.

I grin, letting my fingers trace the inked lines on his stomach before pressing my lips to them. Every inch of him is art, and tonight, I’m the only one who gets to admire him up close.

I start kissing his chest again, slow and deliberate this time, lingering in places just to feel the way his breath hitches. My lips explore the smooth expanse of his torso, my fingers mapping out every inch like I’m memorizing him.

Zane leans back, his head tipping slightly as his eyes flutter shut, a shaky breath slipping from his lips.

For a moment, he fights it—the need to hold on, to stay in control—but then I feel it. The way his body gives in, muscles tensing before melting under my touch.

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