“Ridge,”I breathe, the word barely clearing my throat as his mouth drags slowly over my chest.
“I know,” he says against my skin, voice low and tight, like he’s holding himself in check. His hands slide to my hips, fingers digging in with purpose, not gentleness. “I know.”
He lifts his head, and his mouth crashes into mine before I can think. The kiss is hard and demanding, all heat and intent, his tongue pushing in like he’s done waiting.
I gasp into it, my hands coming up automatically, gripping his shoulders as the water shifts around us.
His body presses closer, the length of him hard and unmistakable against my stomach. The contact jolts straight through me.
I feel it everywhere. Between my legs. In my chest. In the way my breath stutters as he rolls his hips, just enough to make the friction impossible to ignore.
His hands slide up my sides, his thumbs brushing over my breasts until my back arches without thought.
The pool holds me up as he explores me like he already knows where I’m weakest. I hate how easily my body answers him. I hate how little it matters.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his hand slipping between us. His fingers find me confidently and skillfully. “You’re already there.”
“I got there the moment you stepped into this pool.”
“Oh, yeah? You sure it’s not just the water?”
I let out a soft, broken sound as he slides inside me, the water making everything slick and too easy. I laugh once, breathless and unsteady, and it turns into a gasp when he moves again.
“That’s not the water,” I manage to say, even though I’m barely holding on to my impending orgasm.
His mouth curves at the corner, but his eyes stay dark and focused. He adds another finger, stretching me, patient in a way that makes my chest tighten.
I ride his hand instinctively, chasing more pressure, more of him. The water sloshes around us as my control thins to nothing.
“I need you,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “Ridge. I want you.”
He stills just for a second, but long enough for me to notice.
Then he withdraws his hand and shifts, stepping closer in between my legs.
I wrap my legs around his waist, primal need taking over, pulling him in so that pressure stays right where my body is already begging for more. The water laps up and down my body softly as I move, my thighs tightening, guiding him closer without saying a word.
His breath hitches against my mouth.
“Jesus,” he mutters, breaking the kiss just long enough to drag his lips along my jaw. His hands slide lower, spanning my hips, thumbs pressing in as he lifts me slightly, pinning me back against the pool wall.
The cool tile meets my spine. His body cages me in, solid and unyielding, as he positions his cock at my opening. I pull my legs tighter around his waist, buoyed by the water as I tip my hips and draw him into me, to force him in if he’s not going to do the job.
He’s big and hard, and the stretch burns in the best possible way. The pressure is sharp enough to steal my breath before melting into something that makes my thighs tremble.
His hips rock forward again, slower this time. He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows how the slow drag fills me, how it makes my toes curl, and my nails dig into his shoulders.
I shift against him, chasing the friction, opening myself to him without thinking, and the sound that slips out of me is raw and unfiltered.
That does it.
His grip tightens, hands digging into my hips as he stills inside me for half a second. His forehead drops to mine, his breath heavy, controlled only by force of will.
“Tell me to stop,” he says in a rough but quiet voice. “Because I fucking can’t on my own.”
I don’t hesitate. I roll my hips against him, dragging myself along the hard length of him already buried inside me, making the answer unmistakable. I don’t need to say anything more.
I never want him to stop.
