We stared at each other silently for a long minute as he struggled to regulate his breathing and waited for his watery knees to hold him upright. Once he had his composure back, he reached for me, pulling me to his chest so that my head was tucked under his chin, his wet and slippery dick pressed against my middle, which made my blood heat and my heart trip over itself. I wanted it. I wanted him.
“All right, Pop-Tart, we have one day. Let’s make enough memories to last us a lifetime.” He kissed my temple and took my hand so he could guide me to the bed.
“Sounds good to me.” In fact, I was pretty confident it was the only smart decision I’d made since saying goodbye to my sister.
I would never forget a single second of what being saved and being a savior felt like.
Chapter 8
Ben
For the first time since I’d started having sex way back in my early teens, I was going to bed with a woman. For once, I wasn’t taking her there with ulterior motives. I wasn’t tricking her, luring her, conning her, manipulating her, deceiving her, or employing any of the other underhanded ways I utilized in order to get my way and to get what I wanted.
In fact, she was leading the way. Her hand was wrapped around mine, long hair tangled down her naked back and playing peek-a-boo with the delicious dimples that rested right above the swell of her ass. When she looked at me over her shoulder, there was no hesitation in her brilliant blue gaze, only warm anticipation and swirling promises that I hoped she wouldn’t regret keeping. I’d followed the wrong people in my life for a long time because they swore they could give me everything I wanted. Following her to the messy but inviting bed, I realized the bad people I’d trailed after when I was younger never had the ability to give me what I really wanted, what I had been searching for all along. I wanted to be accepted. I wanted to be forgiven for the mistakes I’d made. I wanted to be appreciated, faults and all, and I didn’t want to take that respect through force and intimidation. I wanted to earn it. I wanted it to be mine free and clear.
I wanted someone to think I was worthy based on the fact that against all odds, against my own innate selfishness and overblown ego, I’d managed to do something right. I wanted someone to see I could put their needs above my own because even though I was a bad man, from an even worse place, I could recognize good when it landed in my lap.
Fortunately, what Echo was actually asking for was a whole lot easier and a whole lot more fun for me to give her. She wanted my hands all over that flawless skin. She wanted my mouth on her breasts. She wanted the scrape of my beard and the press of my much bigger, harder body into her smaller, softer one. More than all of that, she wanted my cock planted deep inside of her, filling her up, taking what she offered and giving back everything I had so she wouldn’t be able to forget me tomorrow, or the day after that, or the one after that. She didn’t want to feel empty anymore and I couldn’t wait to be the one that took up all that space, made it my own, claimed it as mine, for however long our moment lasted.
She hit the edge of the bed and turned around so she could sit in front of me, my rock-hard dick right at her eye level. I reached out my hands so I could push the dark waves of her hair behind her shoulders and used my thumbs to trace the delicate line of her jaw. I tilted her head back so that she was looking up at me and bent down so I could kiss the tip of her nose as she put her hand on the side of my hip. Her thumb dug into the sharp V of muscle that cut along the side of my abs and I couldn’t hold back a smirk when she sighed in appreciation. In my old line of work, it was a bad idea to have any kind of weakness, so I always made sure I could hold my own with the brawlers that ran the streets. Being in decent shape was an asset in prison as well. The phrase “too pretty to be locked up” had merit, so it was good I could take care of myself when I needed to, but that was all practical, necessary even. I used the way I looked as a weapon and as a tool, but knowing Echo liked what she saw when she looked at me was the first time I’d ever been thankful for genetics and endless hours spent in the gym. I needed to get back to it and stop using my circumstances as an excuse for letting my entire life slip away.
I brushed my nose over the arch of her cheek and used the tip of my tongue to trace the outside of her earlobe as she leaned backward, her shoulders hitting the mattress while I hovered over her. I ran my fingers down the elegant column of her neck and stopped to stroke the place where I could feel her pulse racing. There wasn’t an ounce of fear coming off of her, which was good because I had enough for both of us.
I was worried I was going to hurt her, physically and emotionally. I was worried that she was going to hurt me…and I had no idea how I would handle that. My guess was not very well. She wanted this moment to count, wanted to make memories that would last a lifetime and I was terrified I was going to disappoint her and those memories would end up as nightmares she couldn’t escape from.