“This will be cold,” he uttered, moments before plunging into the water.
He still held Georgia as he pushed out into the pristine pool. He kicked them away from the shore, and Georgia squealed at the touch of the frigid mere.
“It will warm, trust me,” he grinned.
He released her, but she kept her forearms around his neck. He circled his arms around her waist, pushing the shift down over her hips and letting the waters claim it. They spun gently with their own momentum. Georgia ran her hands over his hair, wetting it and letting her fingers run through it. She felt his arousal against her stomach and smiled at the evidence of his ardor. An instinctive part of her, the heart of her femininity, wanted to respond by molding her body to his. To lift her legs so that they entwined his hips, bringing their loins together.
She didn't need any previous sexual experience to understand this posture that nature had designed to bring their bodies together. But she knew that would lead to the erasing of all boundaries between them, like a hand sweeping away the magical protection of a chalk circle. She wanted that, wanted to finally merge with Keaton. But not right at that moment. She smiled at her own feeling of naughtiness as she let her body float out on the unseen currents.
She kicked lazily, her hands trailing down Keaton's biceps until they touched only by their fingertips. Georgia turned over in the water, letting her legs float up. The water was feeling warmer already, and where her knees or her breasts broke the surface, the sun kissed her. Keaton moved closer, kissing her neck. She raised her hands to caress his face, letting him support her in thewater. He stroked her neck with his lips, then her breasts with his hands.
He ducked under the water suddenly, and she felt his tongue caress her back from beneath the surface. It traced a path down her spine, making her arch in pleasure. He followed the line of her buttocks, and she quivered in the water, anticipating what he might do next. He rose from the water between her legs, pushing them apart so that her feet rested on his shoulders, just emerging from the lake.
Georgia lifted her head, watching Keaton kiss the soles of her feet. She giggled as he tickled her with deft fingers, flexing her toes, keeping herself afloat by wafting her arms in the cool water. There was heat and chill warring within her. Chill from the water that enveloped her from below and heat from Keaton's touch, setting fire to her wherever it graced.
His lips traced exploratory paths along her inner thigh, teasingly dancing aside as they reached the inevitable peak. Georgia gasped, her balance lost each time, so that she sank beneath the water. Each time she stroked her way back to air, Keaton resumed the game all over again. Then he was pushing away from her with a grin, stroking with his arms, and kicking slowly under the water. She watched him, eyes wide with anti-climactic disappointment, breathless with it.
Then, realizing she was being teased, she swam after him. Keaton grinned, hearing her approaching and turning, striking for the middle of the pool. Georgia chased but could not match his athleticism. He dove, and she lost sight of him in the depths.Turning a slow circle in the middle of the pool, she called out to him. Silence answered. Then a tug at her toes. She looked down as a hand grasped her ankle.
Georgia took a deep breath and let him pull her under. Her body arrowed into the water until she was facing him. This time, she allowed her body to embrace him fully. Limbs wrapped around him, and they sank together, whirling slowly. Their lips clashed together, and they shared the breath of life. His eyes were open, and so were hers. She gazed into the shadowed orbs, desperate to probe their mystery.
Is this the beginning? When the veils part and I see him for who he truly is? But what about the ring? I must know!
As Georgia began to feel the sting of breathlessness, Keaton kicked strongly for the surface. As they rose, she felt their bodies colliding together once more. Her breasts pressed against his bulging chest.
She gasped for air, her legs still wrapped around Keaton's lean hips. The water streamed down his sculpted chest, droplets catching in the dark hair that traced a tantalizing path downward. His muscles flexed beneath her palms as he kept them both afloat, the defined ridges of his abdomen pressing against her soft belly.
She could feel every inch of his manhood trapped between their bodies, hot despite the cool water, and the knowledge that nothing separated them made her dizzy with want.
“Georgia…” he breathed against her ear, her name both prayer and question.
“Make me yours, Keaton.”
The words seemed to snap something in him. His grip tightened, and she felt the tremor that ran through his powerful frame—not from the water's chill but from pure, undiluted need. He guided her backward until she floated on the surface, his hands supporting the small of her back. The position left her completely exposed to his gaze, though he couldn't see her. Yet somehow, the way his fingers traced her ribs, counting each one before moving higher, made her feel more seen than any sighted man's stare ever could.
His mouth found her breast, and the contrast of his heated tongue against her water-cooled skin drew a cry from her lips that echoed across the secluded pool. He sucked her nipple with devastating thoroughness, his stubbled jaw scraping deliciously against the softness of her breast.
“So beautiful…” he mumbled against her alabaster skin, moving to the other peak. “My water nymph.”
She tangled her fingers in his wet hair, the dark strands like silk between her fingers. “How can you know that when you cannot see?”
“I do not need sight to know perfection, not when I am touching it.”
His free hand cupped her neglected breast, thumb circling the hardened tip in maddening patterns that had her hips bucking beneath the water. Georgia watched him work, mesmerized by the play of sunlight across his broad shoulders, the way his back muscles bunched and released as he moved. Droplets of water ran down the column of his spine, disappearing where his narrow hips met the water's surface.
His hand drifted lower, finding her center beneath the surface, and her thoughts scattered like minnows. His fingers were confident, skillful, working her with the same dedication he brought to his sculpting—as if she were precious marble he was coaxing into life. The water made everything feel dreamlike, suspended, each touch both muted and intensified by the liquid embrace surrounding them.
“Not yet,” he commanded when she began to tremble. “Together this time.”
He pulled her upright and against him, and she instinctively wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, gasping at the feeling of him positioned at her entrance. He was larger than she had ever anticipated in her dreams, the broad head of him pressing insistently against her untried body.
“Tell me if it is too much,” he said roughly, though she could see the cost of his restraint in every taut line of his body.
“No… no, it will never be.” Her nails dug into his shoulders. “I need all of you...”
The water helped her control the pace as she slowly, incrementally, took him inside. The stretch was overwhelming, a burning fullness that bordered on pain before melting into something else entirely—a completion she had never known she'd been missing. Keaton's sharp jaw was clenched tight, a muscle jumping beneath the skin as he fought for control. His hands on her hips were gentle but firm, guiding without forcing.
When she finally took all of him, they both stilled, breathing hard. She could feel him pulsing inside her, could see the way his chest heaved with each labored breath, the water dews running down his pectorals like tears.
