The white on her pink tongue.
My pre-cum clinging.
Thick.
Glistening.
Not washed away by the water but standing out against it.
Sin that refused to be cleansed.
So fucking naughty, she stuck her tongue out and let it rest there for me to see, her tongue curling ever so slightly so the liquid pearls of my pre-cum rolled a little forward, threatening to spill, but not just yet.
God damn it.
My chest tightened hard enough to ache.
Blood tore through my veins, rushing south so fast my cock throbbed violently. My balls drew tight and were close to exploding.
I was seconds from snapping the cuffs just to drag her under me and cover her face with more cum. “Tora. . .get over here right. Fucking. Now.”
She tilted her head just enough for the water to shift, the motion slow, taunting. The milkiness on her tongue swelled with the movement, sliding toward the edge of her lips.
I froze.
Full of madness.
Desperate.
Demented.
And then it broke.
Dearrr Godddd. . .
The thick white line eased over her bottom lip, falling in a slow arc toward her chin. Another drop followed, escaping the corner of her mouth, tracking over the curve of her cheek.
I growled so loud I knew the whole island heard me.
The urge to mark her again, to flood her mouth with my cum until she had no choice but to swallow or wear it, had me rocking my hips in the water like an animal in heat.
I just fucked the water.
My cock bobbed with the movements.
The ripples slapped against my thighs, but there was no relief, only the burn of needing her, of seeing my release gleam on her lips and knowing I couldn’t do anything about it.
The act owned me.
“Oh, Tora. Come here.” My hips rocked in the water, fucking nothing, desperate to find friction in the heated ripples.
The ache was maddening.
The pleasure withheld so sharply it carved a line down my spine.
“Tora, please!”
She closed her mouth and swallowed whatever was left on her tongue.
