“I’m not trying to,” I whisper back.
He leans forward, presses his mouth to my shoulder, presses a kiss to my skin through the suit and a full body shudder erupts, lighting me up from within. “I have to know what’s under all this,” he says into my neck.
“You should find out.”
We’re both bobbing in the water now, but he’s moving us toward the shallow end so that he can stand and support us both without having to tread water. As soon as his feet touch the bottom again, his hands begin moving once again, resuming their exploration, taking me up on my invitation.
The sound of two people breathing heavily is all I hear, my heart pounding somewhere deep inside me as he drags those hands up over my rear, bringing them up the sides of my hips, and presses his fingertips below the edge of the suit, riding the edge of the seam there, teasing the skin underneath all the way from the top of my hips, along the curve of my thigh, until his fingers are just inside the hem at the opening for my legs, stroking the delicate skin there, watching my face, if I’ll want him to keep going, or tell him I’m not ready yet.
The tease is delicious, I feel my nipples harden even further from the feel of his fingers so close to where I’ve dreamed about them every time I’ve had to take an extra long shower after he’s left for the night, but all the ways I’ve imagined him touching me haven’t done justice to what’s happening now, and I press myself as close to him as the position allows.
“Been dying to know what you keep wrapped up all the time, Ell. Finally see you. Feel you. Taste you.”
The soft murmur against my throat feels as good as his hands do. An incoherent noise comes out of my mouth as he continues to move those fingers up and down, just underneath the seam of the bathing suit, rubbing against the sensitive skin there ever so lightly, without nearly enough pressure. My eyes flutter shut, and it’s all I can do to get oxygen into my lungs. I feel my heartbeat right next to his fingers, and I need him to slip one of those fingers an inch or two over, stat.
I lean closer still, my mouth practically on top of his at this point. “Stop,” I breathe against his lips, breaking the moment, and I feel his fingers pause in their trek immediately.
“You want me to stop?”
“I want you to stop teasing me,” I correct him. “I wantyou,” I tell him, and that’s it. He lunges forward, hands moving to grip my ass firmly, pulling our hips tightly together at last, and crushes his mouth against mine in one motion. My arms circle around his neck instinctively, and my hands hold the back of his head to mine as our lips begin to search one another’s for the first time. It starts out slow and soft, a discovery of sorts.
Small noises, grunts, whimpers reach my ears, shockwaves hit my nerves and radiate outward as his lips work mine, soft, smooth, with a bit of pressure that makes my body sing. I follow his lead, gradually taking the kiss from close-mouthed to an open one, our lips moving against one another firmly, delicately, learning about one another. At the first appearance of his tongue, there’s a groan, but I couldn’t tell you which one of us that was from. Maybe both of us. He uses that tongue to keep teasing me, slipping gently into my mouth and back out again, tasting me, getting to know me, and I suddenly get a vision of just how impressive he is with that thing, and a fresh rush of heat floods between my legs.
My legs unfold, wrapping around his waist and my ankles lock behind him, holding my center flush against the hardness of him. This is escalating faster than I can process it or convince myself to stop, and I don’t want to. I moan into his mouth as my hips start to rock on their own accord again, like they’re driven by pure instinct, not logic or reason or any of the driving factors that have made all of my decisions for the past thirty years. This time, I’m close enough to feel what it’s doing to him.
He pulls back from the kiss to rest his forehead against mine, both of us breathing heavily, nearly panting. I can feel how hard he is already, and I lift myself up in the water, using my locked legs and his waist as leverage to grind myself against the head of his cock through his board shorts and my suit. He bites his lip, eyes on me, and a shudder rolls through me at the intensity of this moment. The wet friction only adds to the sensation, and my hips keep moving on him, chasing exactly what they want right now. I am turning into an unrecognizable creature. An Ellie who chases what she wants, what feels good, what feelsright, and I’m too wrapped up in all these new feelings to let that scare me right now.
We stare into each other’s eyes, letting our gently rocking hips, the little splashes of water that movement creates fill our ears, and he shudders, closing his eyes. “Christ, woman. I want you so fucking bad. You feel that?” His hand comes between us, adjusting himself and brushing against my core as it does.
I nod, pausing the motion of my hips briefly so I can lean in closer, bringing my lips to his ear. I trace the outline of his earlobe with my tongue and hear what I can only describe as a growl in response. “I want you to have me,” I whisper in his ear, before trailing my lips down his neck and to that hollow spot at the base of his throat that gave me such impure thoughts minutes ago.
His grip on my ass tightens in response and he moves toward the side of the pool with no delay. “You going to let me make you come? Let me show you you’re a natural at it?” he asks me as he carries us as fast as the resistance from the water allows.
“Mmhmm,” I tell him, lips pressed to his skin. I give that spot on his neck some attention and show him what he can expect when my tongue gets to explore the rest of him. And yes, he tastes as delicious as he smells. It’s this mix of salt, something earthy, and something purely Asher, only slightly tainted by the traces of chlorine on his skin.
When my back meets the wall and I feel the pressure of his arousal increase againstjustwhere I need it, I let out a low moan and pull my head back. He begins to grind against me now, holding me up with the pressure of his hips against mine, working his erection against my clit in rough, circular motions, his eyes bouncing back and forth between mine to gauge my response.
I love how attentive he is. I can tell already that he is paying attention to how my body reacts, what I like, what gets the best response out of me, and filing it away for future reference. He looks hungry for meandmy pleasure, and that nearly sends me over the edge in and of itself.
I pull his head back down to mine and his mouth devours mine while his hips keep up this torturous pace, not letting up. There’s a hot, tingly tightness growing in my lower stomach, spreading down, down, down, and I gasp against his mouth, unprepared for this to be over already. He pulls back from me to watch my face and body.
“You gonna come for me already, gorgeous? Before I’ve even gotten to touch you?” he asks, that half-smirk in place, his eyes on my mouth as it opens and closes, no sound coming out.
I close my eyes and nod my head. “I’m close,” I whisper.
“I’ll finish you like this, but next time you come, I’m going to feel you, what I’m doing to you. How wet you are, how tight. Nothing in between us.” My eyes roll back in my head at that visual, a throaty whimper escaping me. That dipping sensation in my stomach makes a sudden reappearance and I know I’m almost there. He leans in to press his swollen mouth against mine once more, driving his hips into me harder, swallowing the cries I make in response.
His fingers find their way to the front of my swimsuit, trailing up my stomach and running over my breasts before circling over my peaked nipples, chafing them in the best possible way, racketing the sensations up even further. I can feel myself cresting the edge now, at the top of the roller coaster, the lights and sounds about to burst behind my eyes and ears when the dam on this pressure finally breaks. His thumbs flick my nipples and my legs start to twitch and shake in response, mewling noises escaping me at the sensation.
A loud, brightdingbreaks our zone of solitude, and it takes both of us about three quarters of a second to realize it was the elevator arriving before either of us could. We quickly break apart and as his eyes look over my shoulder, toward the indoor elevator lobby, I see panic cross his features. “Shit, shit, shit,” his words tumble over one another, barely enunciating them in his freak-out.
On instinct alone, I dive out from under his arm and put space between us, as I see his hand dive below the surface of the water and readjust himself in his shorts.
I have no idea what or who he sees, whether someone saw us on the cameras and is coming to reprimand us? I kind of assumed all that would be visible on a camera was us making out, I might die if someone thinks they saw us having sex in a public pool. Or maybe it’s just another random resident coming to enjoy the serenity up here?
As reality slams into me, I chastise myself for being this irresponsible, getting wrapped up in the moment, carried away with my own desires. There’s a reason my head is in charge of my life, not my emotions, and not my heart—or my downstairs, whatever just made that call.
Either way, I instantly form a plan to make this as innocent looking as possible. I begin swimming laps up the length of the pool, and within seconds, I hear cackles and raucous voices reach us from the far end of the patio.
