An Echo in the Mafia (Echo Reid, Reid Family Book #1)

First Times

But just now, just now as he seemed to be sucking the very soul from her, she couldn't think of anything, not even him. All she could do was follow the same instinct that always took over, the one that made her feel the need to be as close to him as possible. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. There was a desperation in her any time he touched her, something only he could start and something only he could end. 

Luke was glad to do it, glad to do anything as long as he could keep touching her and once her arms were fully wrapped around his neck, he did the only thing that felt natural. Echo pulled away in surprise as she suddenly felt her feet come off the ground, her arms tightening around him as his hands slid her legs around his waist. 

The cry of surprise made him chuckle but it didn't last long. He moved quickly, carrying her out of the restroom and towards the bed.  He reached one hand behind his neck, taking hers and placing a kiss on it, as he guided her down onto the bed spread.  He lay her down carefully, raising himself up to admire the satin once again, the dark blue of it a stark contrast against her flushed skin. Echo sucked in a deep breath as Luke reached out, placing the palm of his hand on her neck and slowly sliding it down to her belly.  He picked at her waist for a moment, fascinated by the heady breaths escaping her parted lips, and then he slid along her side, catching the hem with his fingertips. 

She gasped as they slid beneath the slip, his hand dragging up towards her belly momentarily as he lowered himself down to kiss her. It was a soft kiss, one meant to entice, meant to tantalize and seduce, her favorite kind.  He nibbled gently, suckling the bottom lip as his hand slipped lower once again... and she moaned.

It was a deep, throaty sound that he caught between his lips as short gasps of air began to escape her lips.  He watched her, his face only inches from hers, noting how she tossed her head back, biting that pretty bottom lip as his hand worked gently at the velvet between her legs. She was certainly something to behold, writhing against the sheets, panting gently, erotically as she arched her back into him. The first time he'd done this, that first night, she hadn't known what to do with herself. She'd clutched at the sheets, at his hand, begging him to stop one moment and then begging him not to abandon her the next. 

Now? Now Echo ran her hand along his arm, stopping when hers landed just over his as he touched her and enjoying the way he worked, allowing herself to enjoy the way he moved. He loved it, loved the way she felt in his hands, loved how sensitive she was to his touch, loved how wanton she was when it came to him... his little Echo. She cried out, tugging at his hair as she so, feeling relief sweep over her as she shuddered. It was beautiful... but it was far from over.  She opened her eyes, dazed, bemused but in ultimate anticipation as she watched him now, his hand gently stroking the lace against her breast. She pulled that hand to her, that hand that had gently and artistically loved her only moments before. He brushed the pads of those fingertips against her lips...

It was wicked, she thought. Wicked as she could smell her own scent on those fingertips, wicked that she opened her lips, gently sucking on them and tasting that musk. There was something captivating, irresistible about the taste of her on his skin, as beguiling as it was wicked. Luke was fascinated by it. 

Fascinated as she sat up suddenly and raised her arms, prompting him to finally pull the pretty silk over her head. Echo leaned back on her arms, completely exposed to him, freckles spread across her skin, sometimes in small clusters, other times lonely and glaring back at him, begging for company. And so he leaned in, gently placing kissing on them, one at a time, until he reached his favorite, his idol.

As he kissed and plumped and squeezed, plucked and nibbled, she lay back as he naturally leaned over her, every bit of her body seeming to roll open... her body accommodating him of it's own volition. It was nature. Her body now worked on it's own, making room for him, molding itself to him. Here it was. Nothing between them, skin to skin, burning up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, waiting for the moment, wanting and needing to have him closer, needing to touch him with every last inch of her body. 

Everything was one endless blur. They moved in unison, they caught each other's frantic breaths, the clung to each other desperately. She made him feel like he'd never felt before, he was vulnerable, he was overcome. Home. Being this close to Echo, feeling her surrounding him, accepting him, feeling the way she pulsed and vibrated against him, this was home. He was at his most vulnerable when he was inside her and somehow, this small, beautiful woman made him feel completely indestructible.

Now, as they lay side to side, their legs still tangled, him clutching her hand to his chest, he wondered how he ever made it through life without her. It was a few minutes before either one could properly move or talk. They usually lay their, letting the haze of the heat they'd share slowly fade, feeling like primitive creatures incapable of coherent thoughts. 

When his heart rate was finally something like normal, he turned to her, noting how she smiled faintly. He leaned to his side, resting his head his his hand and playing with her splayed palm gently. 

"I knew it." He finally said, prompting her to wrinkle her nose in confusion. 

"knew what?" She asked without bothering to turn to him. She was much to sated, much to pleased with herself... with him to even think about moving. 

"That you weren't asleep." He said with some humor. She smiled again. 

"What gave me away?" She said, remembering how she'd hid under the covers when she heard him coming. 

"You weren't snoring." He said with a chuckle, making her eyes open and turn to him with a frown. 

"I don't always snore." She muttered after a few seconds. 

"Of course you do." He said, laying on his back again. "My Echo doesn't sleep so peacefully."

She let out the most unladylike snort. 

"Your Echo sleeps peacefully." She muttered, "Just not prettily."

He laughed, turning to face her again.

"There's nothing about my Echo that isn't pretty."