8. Waterfall Incident

In hindsight, I can't actually tell who initiated the kiss. At first, I thought it was him, the handsome spirit who visits my dreams. But then I realized we'd met halfway. We both moved.

When our lips clash, I flow with it. Because the way Echo tastes? It makes me want to lose control. He tastes like the deep forest after a rain—rich with the scents of earth and growth, wild and raw, and brimming with desire. His tongue entwines with mine, exploring my mouth like a man starved.

His hands roam over my back, tracing the contours of my spine with a touch that ignites fire along my skin. He pulls me closer until there's no space left between us, only the rush of our breaths mingling in the humid air.

He spins both of us around, my back hitting the smooth rock as Echo locks me between himself and the cool stone. The waterfall's thunder and the birds' distant calls fade into a background hum against the pounding of my heart.

Our kiss breaks for a brief moment, just long enough for me to take him in. His alabaster skin looks vibrant against the backdrop of the cascading water. His eyes are hooded, his lips wet and parted, his gaze fixed on my lips. In this moment, he looks like the most beautiful man I've ever seen.

Then he moves even closer, his hands reaching for my thighs. Instinctively, I know what to do. I leap up, wrapping my legs around his hips as we press against the rock together. The chill from the rock seeps through my wet clothes, but his body feels like a furnace against mine, keeping the cold at bay.

His breath catches slightly as I press myself against him, his strong arms holding me securely. I feel his hardness against me, creating a delicious pressure that makes me gasp in response.

"Fuck," I whisper. "Why does this feel so real?"

I noticed before that my senses seemed sharper, and everything felt more intense. But that was when I focused on the water's current pushing me back, or how I couldn't keep a secret because I just had to share it. This… this is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

"Hm?" Echo murmurs, dipping his head, his lips tracing a path from my ear down to my collarbone, each kiss sending a cascade of goosebumps across my skin. He lifts me higher, like I weigh nothing.

"Your touch," I gasp. "It's not real and yet…"

"Who said it's not real?" he groans, digging his fingers harder into my thighs as if he didn't like what I said. "Just because it's not happening in your world doesn't mean it's not real." He gives me a long lick from my collarbone to my neck, then brings his lips to my ear again. "Does this feel fake, Claire?" He grinds his hips into me.

Oh, holy angels… The friction of his cock against me makes every nerve in my body sing. I roll my eyes back and stifle a moan as a pure white vision blinds me.

"No," I manage to say, my breaths shallow. Bringing my hands to his neck, I fist one into his hair as warmth spreads through me. It feels like I'm melting, becoming one big jelly in his arms as he grinds into me again. This is ridiculous. For it to feel this good with our clothes still on…

"Exactly," he murmurs against my skin, his voice a low growl that vibrates through me. "That's because it's not."

His words sink in, heavy with meaning, grounding my scattered thoughts into a single, undeniable truth—he's right, this experience is beyond ordinary. It's visceral, tangible, as real as anything in any world. It also helps me discover my own truth.

"This pleasure," I say, my voice hoarse. "I want to feel more of it."

He pulls back slightly, his gaze intense, searching mine for any sign of doubt. Finding none, he smiles, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that suggests he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"Don't tell me," he says, his words like a spell. "Mean it. Intend it."

And I do. I want him to touch me as if it's the last thing I'll ever feel. I close my eyes and press against him, moaning softly as sweat beads on my forehead. I want to be free, to soar in his arms like an eagle with the world below me and my problems like ants. I want this man with me, taking me, caressing me, pleasuring me.

I don't care if he's my guardian spirit or not. I want him. I need him. I'm going to have him.

"Just like that," he purrs. "You're such a good girl for me, Claire."

His words send a thrill through me, mingling with the rush of the waterfall—a dark, melodious sound. His praise, with a hint of possessiveness, feels like a reward, sparking an even deeper craving inside me. I know he's reading my mind, knowing exactly what I like. It used to make me uncomfortable. Now, I wonder why I ever resisted.

His hands move skillfully, driving me wild. He traces the contours of my body, teasing my skin. His fingers hook against my bikini bra, unhooking it quickly, letting it rest loosely against my breasts, held only by the touch of his chest. I want it to fall off so badly that I wiggle against him, hot breaths escaping my lips.

"Yes, Little Soul," he continues. "Let yourself feel everything."

I nod, words failing me, tightening my grip around him. My world narrows to the here and now.

With a swift move, he shifts us so that my back is to the waterfall. The mist sprays over us, mingling with the sweat on our skin and giving us more of that ethereal glow I like so much. My bra slips off, carried away by the rushing water and disappearing into its depths.

"I want to feel you," I moan, all logical thought gone. My hands roam over his body, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath his skin, the power and heat radiating from him.

His reaction is instant. He tenses up, then relaxes under my touch, like he's soaking in every sensation. His dark, intense eyes lock onto mine.

"As you wish," he purrs, his voice husky. He guides my hands down his chest, across his abdomen, to the waistband of his shorts. His skin is hot under my touch, the muscles firm and responsive. Then, he steps back and lays me down onto the rock shelf.

My legs turn to jelly, but I'm alone only for a moment as he pulls his shorts down, letting them fall to his ankles before stepping right back into me.

There's electricity in the air between us now. I can taste it on my tongue, feel it thrumming through me. When he reaches for me again, I leap onto him, wrapping myself around him as he slides my bikini bottom to the side and teases me with his fingers. I'm drenched. I don't need confirmation, but I get it anyway.

"You're so ready for me," he whispers, his voice dark and sending shivers through me. My inner walls clench with anticipation.

As he finally enters, my entire world narrows to him and only him. I gasp, biting down on my fingers.

He's large, stretching me to my limits despite how wet and overwhelmed with desire I am. Each inch throbs as he fills me, and he hasn't even started moving yet.

There's a moment of pure, intense focus where nothing else exists but him, moving slowly inside, testing me, adjusting my position, cupping my ass to hold me steady. He waits for my body to accommodate him.

I'm going crazy.

I feel like I'm flying, soaring among the clouds with cool mist and the sun on my skin. It's like forbidden arts are etched into my bones, scattering me into the air, becoming life itself. I roll my eyes back.

When he starts moving, my body goes limp as I let this man do anything he wants to me. And what he wants is to fuck me. Not like a guardian spirit to a human, but like a being to a being. Equal, yet completely animalistic. His movements are deliberate, rhythmic, echoing the ebb and flow of the water around us. His lips find mine again, muffling my moans, catching my breaths as his pace quickens. Each thrust is deeper, forcing gasps from my lungs that he captures with his kisses.

My free hand digs into his shoulders, anchoring myself to him as the world tilts and spins. Birds cry out in the distance, their sounds blending with mine. They sound like they're crying with me. Like they're crying like me. But then, I stop hearing them because I'm too loud to hear anything besides myself. Every nerve ending feels electrified, every sense heightened to an almost unbearable clarity.

"Yes, my Little Soul," Echo groans among my moans. For a split second, I wonder if he feels what I'm feeling—if this surreal pleasure is only mine or if he feels like he's just a blip of existence together with me—but then, he runs a hand up my spine, and grips my neck, and I shudder, all thought forgotten.

"Oh... fuck…" My voice cracks.

He thrusts into me, and I clench around him, teetering between pain and pleasure. I swear I feel something flicking my clit, sending hot white shivers through all my nerve endings. But it's impossible. There's nothing playing with me there. My hands are around his neck and shoulders, and his are holding my arms like iron rods. Yet, the pleasure is so intense it's almost delirious.

The orgasm crashes over me.

It's unlike anything I've felt in the human realm. My soul feels like it's being sucked out of my body, sent across stars and galaxies, enlightened and unburdened.

To say it feels amazing is an understatement. I feel everything. My voice dies in my throat as I stop breathing. For a moment, I think I hear the birds crying out again, but then they hush. There's only ringing in my head and the sensation of exploding into a million pieces.

Echo picks them up. He spins us around, putting me against the cool rock, and resumes his movements. He goes faster, rougher. I start shaking in his hold, and that shaking seems to bring my soul crashing back into my body as I take a loud breath and start moaning harder than ever.

I don't know how long we go on like this, with me on the brink of dying from too much pleasure, and him never stopping. It feels like forever, like time doesn't exist. But finally, when it becomes too much, when the line between pain and pleasure blurs, he reaches his peak. With a mad urgency, he thrusts a couple more times before spilling inside me, gripping me tighter.

His climax arrives with a growl that blends into the waterfall's roar, his body quaking under the force of his release. His breath warms my neck, his hold easing slowly as the tide of his ecstasy recedes.

Slowly, he steps back, steadying me as I find my footing against the slippery rock. His eyes, still dark with desire, hold mine with an intensity that feels like he's seeing into my soul. He is, I remind myself. He knows all of me.

"Wow, that was…" I say, his gaze searching. As a faint smile forms on my lips, he relaxes. "Intense," I finish.

"That's one way to put it," he agrees, a corner of his lips lifting.

"But honestly, dream or not, you're gonna have to carry me out of here," I say. "I don't think I can move."

It's true. My legs have long turned to jelly.

"I wish I could stay here forever," I murmur, sprawled on the forest floor between the moss and the pond. The sun's warmth filters through the trees, wrapping around me. Echo is right beside me, completely naked, with just a leaf magically covering his junk, like he's Adonis himself.

Honestly, I find it fucking hilarious, but I'm feeling too dreamy to say anything about it. He could be wearing a raccoon costume for all I care, and I'd still find being here with him blissful anyway.

But… he did the same to me. After ditching the bikini and shawl after our waterfall incident, he wrapped leaves around me. I look like the first woman on earth. Or… this dreamscape.

Either way, we're the rulers here. We can do whatever the fuck we want.

"It wouldn't be that bad, would it?" he replies, running his fingers through my hair. I watch wide-eyed as he twirls the strands of my hair around his fingers, transforming them into wet waves. My hair, normally black, matte, and reaching my shoulders, now extends to my hips with glossy brown strands mixed in. Little white flowers start sprouting in it too.

"Yeah, not at all," I whisper, watching the change.

"But then, who says you have to leave?" Echo's voice is a gentle rumble, teasing yet serious.

My heart swells at the thought. If I could, I'd stay here forever. It's been so long since I felt a spark of excitement in my life. I thought I was doomed to live a dull, unhappy life where even my own bed was an enemy. But meeting Echo has changed everything. Now, I want more than just to exist; I want to experience, to be free, and I want Echo by my side.

It's a crazy thing to say about someone you've just met, but it's true.

"No matter what, I'll have to wake up sometime," I say, taking a strand of my hair and twirling it around my finger. "I can't just sleep forever."

"No, you can't," he agrees, his voice softening. "But just because you wake doesn't mean this has to end."

I raise an eyebrow at him. My chest tightens with a good kind of tension, making my breath catch.

For so long, I've felt a million miles away from anyone else. Camilla was my rock, but despite our efforts, something was always missing. You can't heal if you don't participate in the process. Camilla could piece me together when she was with me, but once she left, I fell apart again.

I've always felt alone in my struggle. Now, Echo is telling me I don't have to be anymore. But how can I believe that after spending time with him only twice?

"Right, about that…" I start. "The last time I was here, there were things… Shadows…"

"You remember that?" Echo asks softly. His eyes squint slightly at the corners.

The memory of the black, shadowy things fills my mind. They leaped at me like hungry beasts, starved for human flesh. The morning after, I didn't remember Echo. I remembered them, though. The pain, the fear, the despair I felt when they touched me was stronger than any nightmare I've ever had before. It was terrible. And now, lying on soft moss, having my hair played with, I don't want it to end. I need to know if those things will ever come back here.

"Yes, more than vividly," I nod. "And let me tell you, I never want to feel anything like that again. What happened back then?"

He sits up straighter, letting go of my hair. The sun's rays fall onto him, making him look like a part of a painting rather than someone I can touch.

"I don't want you to experience that again," he says. "Those things... They're part of the darkness haunting you, Claire. They're why you need me."

I sit up too, crossing my legs to face him. The sky starts to break into rosy streaks behind the waterfall. I don't know why bu somehow, it feels like my time here is ending for tonight.

"I don't know exactly," Echo continues, "I only know as much as you do. This strange power gripping you... It's hard to figure out."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my heart racing. "Difficult how?"

He gazes over the pond, searching the edges of this dreamscape. "It's unlike anything I've ever seen," he admits, turning back to me. "This realm, our interactions—they're shaped by your subconscious, your desires, your fears. But those shadows were different—stronger, more malicious. They didn't come from the usual places of fear humans have. They came from somewhere else."

I feel a chill despite the warm air. The shadows didn't feel normal; they felt murderous, full of anger and hatred. "So, what are you saying? That they're not just... parts of me?" I ask.

He nods gravely. "Exactly. They were summoned by something external, something or someone with a deeper intention. You're being targeted, Claire."

The word ‘targeted' hits me like a physical blow. "Targeted? By whom? Why?"

Echo takes my hand, his grip strong and reassuring. "I can't see everything," he says. "This entity is powerful, hiding in shadows I can't fully penetrate. But I've felt its presence, a malevolence trying to embed itself in your psyche."

I scoff despite my fear. "No way," I say. "I don't want to believe this." But then again... I did see my reflection move on its own, shadows flicker in the light of Camilla's candles and felt chills in my apartment. I couldn't sleep until I met Echo, until I summoned him for protection. "Okay," I say quickly, despite what I just said. "Let's say I believe you. What do I do? How do I protect myself?"

Echo's expression becomes solemn, but there's a spark of determination in his eyes. "That's why I'm here," he reassures me. "I'm not just a figment of your dreams; I'm a guardian, shaped by your need for protection. It might not seem like it, but the things we've done today..." He pauses, his gaze drifting to my lips and back as he licks his own. "They help. Each time we meet, each time you remember, you become more conscious. Stronger. Strengthening our bond is key."

I want to laugh. No way did this man just tell me that to keep the shadows at bay, we need more… waterfall incidents. Yet, he did. He means it despite the blush on his pale skin. There's a mischievous glint in his eyes too, buried under layers of seriousness.

"You can't expect me to just..." I start, struggling for the right words.

"I don't expect you to do anything," he cuts me off. With a wave of his hand, everything changes. The pink streaks in the sky collapse, and the vast expanse above us alters. The tall trees move, parting to reveal a gap beyond the forest. Instead of an endless forest, there's an expanse of blackness, like a wall of moving ink held back by a barrier.

I gasp, terror freezing me. The moving ink isn't ink at all. It's the black shadows, slithering like serpents over one another. They press against the barrier, misty fingers clawing at the veil, trying to reach us. Trying to reach me.

"Have they been there the whole time?" I ask, bringing a hand to my face.

Echo's eyes narrow. "Yes," he replies. "I should have told you, but… ignorance is bliss, don't you think?"

His words sink in. If I had known the shadows were this close, I'd never be able to relax. I wanted to let go, didn't I? Echo gave me that option, even though he made the choice for me. When I took his hand, I wanted to lose control, to be shown this place could be more than just my nightmares.

"I get…" I start, but words fail me. The barrier starts to crack, its fractures spreading rapidly. I watch in horror as dark tendrils stretch through the gaps. Words die in my throat, my palms slick with sweat.

"No, no, no..." I whisper, scrambling to my feet and stepping back.

Echo notices the shadows too. It's hard not to. They are breaking through the barrier and coming forward with the speed of little cursed planes. He jumps to his feet, gripping my hands and forcing me to look at him.

"Claire," he says, his palms squeezing so hard it hurts. "Claire, listen to me, you need to wake up."

"What?" I ask, my voice shaky, like through a haze.

"I'll make you wake up now, okay?"

I nod, trying to steady my racing heart as the shadowy tendrils thicken, creeping closer with each passing second. The cold dread that seizes me feels almost suffocating. Echo's words barely register in my mind.

The shadows surge forward, as if spurred by his words, their movements more desperate, aggressive. It's as if they heard him, as if they know their time is limited.

And then, just as I brace myself, the dream ends. I wake up in my bed. This time, my memory's intact.