“I love the way you say my name.” He moves lower, kissing my collarbone and then the swell of my breast. “Like I’m yours.”
“I want you to be.”
“I am.”
His mouth closes around my nipple, and I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders. When we’re alone, everything feels more intense. Louis sucks harder, and I whimper as I thrust my fingers through his hair.
“That sound,” he groans against my skin. “I want to hear it again.”
He switches to my other breast and works me until I’m grinding against him, desperate for friction. Louis guides me toward the edge of the pool, where the rocks form a natural shelf above the surface. He lifts me onto it so I’m sitting with the water at my knees. He’s standing between my legs, looking at me with lust in his eyes.
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” He brushes wet hair from my face.
“I haven’t either.”
I pull him up to kiss me, and he comes willingly, one hand braced on the rock beside my hip, the other sliding between my thighs. When his fingers find me, I’m wet and wanting.
“Always so ready for me,” he says against my mouth between kisses.
“You love it.”
“Fuck, I do,” he admits.
He slides his fingers across my clit, building pressure, watching my face with fierce concentration. I try to keep my eyes open and stay present with him, but the sensation is overwhelming. The sound of the falls drowns out everything except my desperate breaths.
“I want to taste you,” he says, pulling my ass closer to the ledge. “Please.”
“Yes.”
I lean back on my hands as he parts my legs. The first stroke of his tongue makes my hips lift off the rock, and he groans against me likeI’m his favorite thing. My fingers thread through his wet hair because I need something to hold on to while he takes me apart.
He’s deliberate, knowing what makes me gasp and my thighs shake. When he slides his tongue flat against my clit before circling it, I moan loud enough for it to echo. One hand grips my inner thigh, spreading me wider, while the other moves two fingers inside me, curling forward.
“Louis.” His name comes out like a prayer.
He responds by sucking my clit into his mouth. The combination of his fingers and his tongue is destroying me, and I’m climbing too fast, the pressure building low in my belly.
“You taste so fucking good,” he mutters against me before his mouth is relentlessly back on me.
I look down at him because I want to remember this forever. The crown prince of Montclaire on his knees in the water, completely focused on my pleasure. The moonlight catches the wet strands of his hair. When he glances up, our eyes meet, and the intimacy of the moment pushes me over the edge.
The orgasm crashes through me, and I cry out his name as my body shakes. He works me through it, gentling his touch as I come down, pressing soft kisses to my inner thighs.
“Come here,” I manage, still catching my breath.
He climbs up my body and kisses me deeply so I taste myself on his tongue. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer, wanting to feel him everywhere.
I reach between us and find him hard and ready. “I need you inside me.”
He positions himself at my entrance and pauses, forehead pressed to mine. “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
“Yes, you fucking are.” He pushes inside, and we both exhale at the connection.
He fills me, and for a moment, we breathe together. When he starts to move, everything falls away.
His thrusts are deep, and I savor every moment—the warm, smooth rock beneath my back; the night air on my skin; the weight of him above me. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him deeper.
