Page 32 of Summer’s Echo

My fingers lightly cupped his jaw, coaxing him to look at me.

I needed to see him, to know that this was more than just the heat of the moment.

I needed my Echo, my friend, the boy who had always been my safe space.

When his eyes finally met mine, they held a storm of emotions—desire, affection, and things I couldn’t quite name.

But within that storm, I saw the boy who had always been there for me, who had been my anchor when I felt unmoored.

In that moment, I realized that if I searched his eyes long enough, I’d find my answer.

Echo would help me make the right decision, because that’s what he’d always done.

Still snuggled in my neck, he pulled my thighs forward, his erection piercing my center.

My breath hitched—hell, I almost choked from the sensation.

Echo was teasing me, slowly grinding his body against mine.

The air between us was electric, charged with something I felt deep in my core.

The rise and fall of my chest came in uneven waves as I clung to him, burrowed against the solid warmth of his body.

My heart raced, and every nerve ending sparked as he slowly trailed his finger against my essence, a touch that was both tender and deliberate.

I gasped softly, the sensation wet, sticky, and utterly consuming.

My body trembled under his care, a mix of vulnerability and trust swirling in the space we shared.

“Look at me,” he requested, his voice steady yet gentle, locking me in the now. His lips brushed against mine in a delicate kiss, pulling me from my haze.

When our eyes connected, the potency of his gaze unraveled me.

It was more than just desire; it was adoration, favor, and an unspoken promise.

His finger moved in slow, purposeful circles, massaging the crown of my jewel with an expertise that left me spent.

I knew that Echo wasn’t a virgin, but I had no dream he would be a skilled puppeteer, commanding my mind, body, and soul.

I was lost in a moment I never wanted to end.

“Oh my God!” I moaned while he continued to drive me insane. “Where… Why do you know how to do this?”

Echo snickered, gliding one finger in then out and in then out of my wetness.

“Mmm,” I hummed, my body moving to the rhythm he controlled.

Echo plunged deeper, harder, and I was losing all sense of taste, smell, and control. My body was behaving in a way that I didn’t recognize. With a broken whisper, I said, “Oh, shit, E. What are you doing…Wh–What are we doing?”

Not breaking the rhythmic stride of his fingers, his only response was, “Please, Sunshine. Please.” I didn’t know what he needed. But I knew, without hesitation, I was willing to give it.

Goosebumps surfaced as I started to shake and tremble, ears popping and eyes cloudy, with tears streaming down my face.

What the hell was happening? My first orgasm, that’s what was happening, and it scared the shit out of me.

I was trembling, every part of me quaking from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet.

It was as though an icy winter breeze had swept through me, leaving a shiver in its wake, though the air around us was anything but cold.

In that instant, our entire friendship flashed before me—every laugh, every tear, every moment that had cemented our bond.

It all came rushing back like lightning splitting the sky on a stormy night.

Echo’s gaze held a quiet plea, begging me not to stop, not to pull away.

But those same eyes—protective, supportive, full of the warmth that had carried me through so much—also told me this was safe, this was us. This felt right. This felt real.

I reached up, cradling his face,my fingertips tracing the sharp, familiar lines of his jaw.

His skin waswarm, velvet-soft beneath my touch, and yet under that smoothness wasstrength, a quiet power that had always made me feel safe.

He didn’t move—barely breathed, as if he was afraid this moment might slip through his fingers if he so much as blinked.

I let my thumbs glide over his cheekbones,memorizing him, anchoring myself to this reality as my pulsepounded in my throat.

This was real. He was real. And I wanted this…

wantedhim. My breathshudderedas I exhaled, but my voice remained composed, despite the tremble in my body.

“Grant me my wish, E,”I said, my lips just inches from his.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. I felt his hesitation, the way his fingers hovered over my waist,asking without words if I was sure.

I was. I lifted my chin, letting my lipsgrazehis, just enough to send a slow shiver down my spine.

“Make this moment special for me,” I said.

For a long, intoxicating second, he just stared at me.

Then, like someone who had just been given permission to breathe, he kissed me.

Slow, almost worshipping. Like I wassomething sacred, something fragile, and powerful all at once.

And as he finally pulled me closer, pressing me against the heat of his body, I knew this wasn’t just a moment, it wasthe beginning of everything.

He stilled, his eyes searching mine as if he wasgrasping for certainty, trying to find the ground beneath his feet. Because this moment? It wasn’t small or a casual fling. It was monumental. And he knew it. He knew how important it was to me.

“Summer.” His voice was thick,gravelly with emotion.

That’s how I knew he was serious because he rarely called me by my name. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he wanted toreach for me, to hold me but didn’t trust himself to move just yet.

“Are you sure?” His voice was low, a quiet battle between hope and restraint.

Like he wanted tobelieve me so badlybut was terrified to fall…

to fail . I swallowed, feeling my pulsedrum against my ribs, an anxious beat of anticipation.

Then, I nodded. And in that moment, I felt my certaintywrap around me like a protective shield.

“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” The words left my lipslike a vow, a promiseetched in something deeper.

Hisshoulders relaxed—just barely—like the tension gripping his bodywas finally loosening its hold. Then—finally, finally —his hands found me, his fingers sliding gently to my waist, his touch sending a slow burn through my skin. That’s when I knew he believed me, andhe was all in.