Page 140 of Hidden Echoes

I leaned in, lips grazing his ear.

"You're drooling for me already, Zane," I whispered, smiling as his eyes fluttered closed. "And I haven’t even really touched you yet."

He whimpered—whimpered—and I swear it made my stomach twist with heat.

My free hand slid down his chest, slow, claiming every inch. I felt the tension in his body. Not from fear—no. From need. From holding back how badly he wanted to give in.

I pressed my body against his, lips finally finding his. Deep. Possessive. He moaned into my mouth, and I swallowed it greedily, tilting his chin just enough to remind him he belonged to me. My fingers curled gently around his throat—nothing rough, just firm enough to hold him in that space between control and surrender.

And fuck, he bloomed under me.

His thighs parted. His hips rocked forward like he couldn’t help it. Like his body was already begging.

"You don’t need to think," I breathed against his lips. "Just let me take care of you."

He nodded, dazed. So pretty like that—eyes glazed, lips parted, body trembling from one kiss and a little pressure on his throat.

"You want more?" I asked, fingers dipping lower, hovering just above the waistband of his pants. "Use your words, Zane."

"Please…" he whispered.

I smiled. God, I could wreck him.

And I would.

Softly. Slowly. Until he couldn’t remember a version of himself that didn’t ache for me.

He was already trembling.

Pressed beneath me, his lashes fluttering as my hand trailed lower, barely touching him. His hips jerked—reflex. He didn’t mean to. But his body was already mine, and he knew it.

“Breathe,” I murmured. “You’re holding it again.”

His chest rose sharply, like he hadn’t even noticed, and then—

“Oh fuck,” he whispered, voice breaking.

God, he was so pretty when he was overwhelmed. The kind of pretty that made my thighs clench. Eyes glossy, lips wet from how much he licked them, like he didn’t know what else to do with his mouth. His hips kept twitching, desperate for friction, but I didn’t give it to him. Not yet.

“Look at you,” I smiled, dragging my nails up his ribs, making him arch. “Already panting and I’ve barely touched your cock. You’re so sensitive this morning, little angel.”

He whimpered again, and that sealed it. That sound? It was mine now. I’d take it from him until he was breathless and trembling

I leaned down, kissing his throat where his pulse pounded hard against my lips, and whispered, “Is it too much? Do I need to tie you down so you stop fucking begging with your body?”

He nodded—needing it. Wanting it.

My sweet, overstimulated boy who couldn’t even hide how much he needed to be held in place and ruined slowly.

So I did.

Soft fabric around his wrists. A gentle command: “Don’t move.”

And when I finally brushed my fingers over the tip of his cock—just enough to tease that first leak of arousal—he gasped so sharply he nearly cried.

“Oh my God,” he choked out, “I—I can’t—”

“You can,” I purred. “You will. You’re gonna leak for me like a good boy, aren’t you?”

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