Page 70 of Echo: Line
My hand trembles as I reach out. Start at her collarbone, trace down. Her skin is fever-hot under my fingertips. I move between her breasts, feeling her heart pound. Over her stomach, which quivers at my touch. Lower. She watches me the whole time, breath coming faster.
When my fingers brush the inside of her thigh, she spreads her legs wider. Invitation. Demand. Choice. Despite everything she's been through today, despite the armor she's built to survive, she's choosing to be open with me.
I slide my hand higher. Tease the crease where thigh meets body. She makes a small sound of frustration.
"Please." Just that one word. Wrecked.
I give her what she's asking for. Trail my fingers through her folds, learning her. She's slick with want, hot against my hand. When I circle the sensitive bundle of nerves at her apex, her hips jerk off the bed.
"God, yes." Her head falls back. "Right there."
I stroke again. She's swollen and ready, her body telling me everything I need to know. When I slide one finger inside her, she clenches around me. Tight heat that makes me groan.
"More," she demands.
I add a second finger. Work them deeper. She rocks against my hand, chasing sensation. Her inner muscles grip me, pull me deeper. I can feel her pulse around my fingers. Steady rhythm that matches her racing heartbeat.
"Alex." My name breaks on a gasp when I curl my fingers, find that spot inside that makes her whole body tense. "Oh god, don't stop."
"You’re incredible." The word is inadequate.
Color rises in her cheeks. "Alex?—"
"I mean it." I lean down, kiss her shoulder. The unmarked one. "You held position against trained killers today. Refusedto break. Refused to leave me." Kiss her collarbone. "You're the strongest person I know."
Her breath hitches. "Keep talking like that and this will be over before it starts."
"Can't have that."
I guide her back onto the bed. The mattress dips under our combined weight. She's soft beneath me. Yielding but not passive. Her hands roam my back, tracing scars and muscle with equal attention.
I kiss down her body. Taking my time now. The adrenaline from combat is fading, replaced by something slower and more intentional. This isn't about forgetting what happened. It's about remembering we survived.
I withdraw my fingers. She makes a sound of protest until I settle between her thighs.
My mouth finds her breast. I take her nipple between my lips, tease it with my tongue. She arches up, pushing more of herself into my mouth. Her fingers tangle in my hair, tightening when I use my teeth. Gentle pressure that makes her gasp.
"Yes." The word is breathy. Desperate. "Like that."
I lavish attention on one breast, then the other. Learn what makes her breath hitch. What makes her hips roll restlessly against the sheets. When I suck hard, she moans. When I flick my tongue across the peak, her nails dig into my scalp. When I trace circles around but don't quite touch, she pulls my hair in frustration.
"Alex, please."
I move lower. Kiss down her sternum, her ribs, her stomach. She's trembling now, anticipation and need making her whole body taut. When I reach the juncture of her thighs, she spreads wider. Offering herself.
"Tell me what you want," I say against her skin.
"Your mouth." No hesitation. "I want your mouth on me."
I give her what she's asking for. Taste her fully for the first time. Salt and musk and pure Delaney. She cries out, her hips bucking off the bed. I have to hold her down, one hand splayed across her lower abdomen, to keep her still.
I explore her with my tongue. Long strokes that make her whimper. Focused attention on that bundle of nerves that has her chanting my name. When I slide two fingers back inside her while my mouth works, she comes apart. Her thighs clamp around my head, her inner muscles pulse around my fingers, and she makes sounds I've never heard from her before.
Raw. Unguarded. Mine.
I work her through it until she's pushing at my head, oversensitive. Then I kiss my way back up her body.
"Alex." My name is prayer and demand. "Please."
