Echo (Bleeding Hearts #1)(17)

“Stroke me,” he breathed.

His anguished voice was unexpected, and it filled me with a strange sort of raw power. I may have been blindfolded, but I wasn’t deaf, and it was obvious I was the one getting to him now. I didn’t understand it. I was nobody, that’s what I’d been told my whole life. But to this man, I was something. Something he wanted very badly.

The warmth of his breath on my cheek surprised me as he smoothed my hair back away from my face.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time now, Brighton.” His words skated over my lips, followed by the touch of his mouth.

The kiss was gentle at first, hesitant. And it was confusing. I didn’t want to like it, but his lips were soft and inviting, his breath minty and sweet. It reminded me of another time and place, and for a moment, I could pretend it was that man I was kissing.

My lips parted, and he seized the opportunity to taste me. To drink in my resistance as if it fueled him. A strangled noise left my throat, and it spurred him on. He cradled my face in his hands as the kiss grew deeper, effectively stealing all the breath from my lungs. Heat coiled low inside my belly as I moved my hand against his rigid flesh. I wasn’t sure if I was doing it right, but he didn’t complain. In fact, he was making sounds in his throat that seemed to have a direct correlation to my own traitorous body.

Why it should turn me on that I was affecting him this way, I had no idea. This wasn’t happening the way I had envisioned. I was supposed to hate him, to feel nothing but disgust, but it wasn’t that simple. My body had betrayed me.

When his lips broke away, I actually whined. But then his hands were on me again, rough and possessive as he lifted me up and set me on the table. The wood was cool beneath my skin, and his voice was even colder when he spoke again.

“How easy you are to bend to my will,” he observed.

A cold front moved between us as his palms bit into my legs, prying them apart. Whatever had happened between us a moment ago was gone, and now fear was left in its place.

His mouth surprised me when he captured one of my nipples between his teeth and gave it a tug. I yelped, only to be shocked when his hand curled around my throat.

“You are here for my pleasure,” he growled as he moved in closer. “Don’t forget that.”

On instinct, my hand came up to his, trying to pry it from the delicate skin around my neck. It had only been a few seconds, but already I couldn’t breathe.

“Please,” I begged.

He slapped my hand away and tightened his grip.

“Don’t f*cking move.”

His arousal nudged against my entrance as he squeezed my hip with his other hand to hold me in place. Spots flashed inside of my vision as he tore into me in one deep thrust.

A sob escaped me, and he released my throat and froze. I was burning inside, stretched beyond all comprehension from his rough entrance.

He cursed and leaned back, gripping my thighs as he examined the place where we connected with his fingers.

“Brighton,” he rasped. “Are you a…”

“Yes!” I cried out. “I’m a virgin.”

Another long pause. Tension filled his body, rolling off of him in waves. My own body was tense, and I was still in pain from his invasion.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” he said finally, his voice filled with confusion.

I had no idea what he meant by that, but I was suddenly filled with shame. Tears streamed down my face, and I couldn’t stop them now. The emotions were too much.

He leaned forward again, surprising me as he cradled me in his arms and tried to soothe me. He kissed every inch of my face, wiping my tears away with his lips.

“I didn’t know. You should have told me.”

I didn’t speak, and as much as I hated myself for it, his touch comforted me. He held me for a long time, allowing my body to relax around him. Then his lips found my neck, and he shifted his hips, moving inside of me the tiniest bit.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“Good,” I admitted.

He kissed me again, long and hard, and he didn’t pull away until we were both breathless.

“You feel so f*cking good, Brighton…”

His words trailed off as his breathing grew harder, and my power returned. To know that I was controlling this man in my own little way was a high all its own. I wanted to push him past his breaking point. I wanted to make him vulnerable to me. To take back what he thought was his to wield.

Using his shoulders to steady me, I rocked my hips down against him, urging him to continue. He met me thrust for thrust, his hands wrapping around my waist to guide me. His movements grew deeper, harder, and I knew he was no longer in control of himself.

Something rattled behind me before it clattered to the floor. The table crashed against the wall and creaked with every thrust. I clung to his biceps, and his fingers found my clit.

He was taking back control. I panted for air, sank my nails into his skin. He groaned.

Something fell from the wall, the sound of glass shattering around us. He thrust harder. The objects on the table dug into my back as he leaned over me, biting his way up my neck.

His fingers worked double time, slapping against my sensitive skin with a roughness I never expected to like. Every cell inside of me sang from his touch as I climbed higher and higher.

“Come for me, Brighton,” he demanded. “Come for me right now.”