Birdy (Upper Echelon Duet Book 1)

I snake a hand between my legs and dip a finger inside. I’m wet as hell, and I’m about to make myself even wetter while he watches. In and out, I lazily fuck myself with just that one finger, digging it in deep and pulling it back out. A few more strokes, and I drag my essence up to my clit, teasing the ever-loving crap out of us both. They’re painfully slow circles, but they leave me breathless nonetheless, all the more anxious for what’s about to—
"Goddamn." Ángel licks his lips and pushes my legs apart, swatting my hand away as his stare tracks every inch of me spread out for him. "So wet for me already, mami... And then you wonder why I’m so obsessed with you.”
"No, I get it..." I'm shamelessly staring at his dick as I say this, all but chomping at the bit to take him in my mouth and torture him some more. "I can relate."
My response triggers him in a way I wasn’t expecting. His movements are so lithe and quick, I nearly miss them. One minute he’s between my legs, and the next he’s got me on top of him, holding me steady just over the head of his cock. "You see? You're openly admitting that you want me. You do realize that, right?"
"I never said I didn't. What you're asking me for, though, is..."
"No different than what we're doing right now, other than you being mine. And what I mean by that is—yo no comparto, Benni. Si eres mia, eres mia solamente. Entiendes?"
"I don't share, either," I firmly supply as I snatch the cigar from him because I need him to know that if I ever give in to this thing—whether it’s right now or six months from now—I don't share. He's either mine, period, or none at all.
Chuckling, he drops me a ways more as I’m hitting the blunt, enough for the very tip to breach my lips. It’s freaking torture. "Is it bad that I want to see your claws come out?"
"Yes,” I exhale, rolling my hips to suck him in deeper. “Because it won't fare well for the puta on the receiving end."
Ángel hums around a satisfied smile and squeezes my cheeks, licking hungrily into my mouth. “Malita. Always ready for something.”
“I have to be. Can’t trust nobody out here.”
“Do you trust me?” he questions, and much to my own surprise, I actually shake my head.
“No.”
“Good, you shouldn’t. I know I’m not good for you, not good enough for you, but I wanna be.” That’s when he drops me, his arm secure around my waist, slowly filling me to the hilt. “Give me a chance to earn your trust, to be enough, to be everything you need."
My breath stills, the heaviness of his words combined with the feeling of him stretching me out more than I can bear. The only reason my eyes don’t bulge from their sockets is because I clamp them shut as my head lolls back. “I can't just leave, Ángel.”
"That's the beauty of it…yes, you can.”
"I-I can't leave my mom," I argue, idly noting he’s taken the cigar from me again.
"We can come back whenever you want. You wanna fly through twice a month, we will. More than that? Done. Whatever you want, it’s yours."
"Please…” He’s hitting it as I right myself to look at him. “You're really going to rearrange your whole life just for me?"
His reply doesn’t come immediately. While holding in that last toke, he holds my stare for a fleeting beat before tossing the blunt into the ashtray on my nightstand. He’s fusing our lips after that, blowing the plume of smoke into my mouth as he rolls me onto my back.
He flexes his hips until he’s entirely embedded.
"I'm not rearranging shit, mami. I'm enhancing it."
Enhancing it? Shit, intensifying everything in tenfold, is more like it. I’m so full and suddenly so goddamn high, I swear I can feel him everywhere.
It’s too much...
“I’m done talking about this. Just don’t stop,” I mewl, legs spreading wider when his teeth sink into my neck.
“I had no plans to. You think I’m playing, but you’re gonna learn tonight, Benni. You’re gonna learn real fuckin’ good. If there’s still any doubt in your mind about how I feel and what I want, it’ll be gone by the time I’m done with you. ”
“Stop talking, and just fuck me.” The desperation in my voice is real. “I don’t need the words to come out of your mouth.”
“Say yes, then; that’s it. Just say yes, and we don’t have to keep going in circles,” he counters, snaking his arm beneath one of my legs.
But all I can manage is a shake of my head. This angle, it’s just... He’s too deep, robbing me of my air supply, of any coherent thoughts. Focusing on anything other than the way he pumps in and out of me, how he kisses me, how he touches me—it’s impossible.
And perhaps that was the universe’s way of stopping me from doing something stupid, of reminding me that this is all we were meant to be. Fuck buddies, friends with benefits—nothing less, nothing more.
The stars weren’t aligned that way for us.
At least, not right now, they weren’t.

♫ Circles - Post Malone
The vehement blare of my alarm wakes me the next morning at eight sharp. Groaning, I roll over and blindly swipe my phone’s screen to silence the damn thing before face-planting back into the pillow. If I could stay in bed today, I would. I’m tired and sore as hell, but I need to take a trip down to the warehouse. It's been one too many days since my last visit, and while I know Gael—my right-hand man—takes care of everything in my absence, I can't go long without making my sweeps and showing my face. Where Ángel prefers anonymity and the element of surprise that brings to the table, I prefer to be seen. I want them to see me,