“Your mouth.” My voice came out raw. “Now.”
He bent his head and pressed his lips to my inner thigh, stubble dragging on sensitive skin. Kissed higher, his breath hot, taking his time, and I fisted his hair and pulled him where I needed him.
He gave me exactly what I asked for. His tongue flat on my clit, firm and deliberate, and my head dropped back against the post. The stars blurred above me. He slid two fingers inside me and curled, and my hips bucked off the dock.
“Fuck—right there—”
He stayed there. Focused, relentless, reading every shift and sound the way he read a current. His fingers worked a rhythminside me while his tongue circled my clit, and the orgasm built fast, pulled tight from everywhere at once. I came with my thighs shaking on either side of his head and the marsh ringing with the sound I made, loud and broken and mine.
He gentled but didn’t pull away. His tongue softened, eased me down, his free hand steady on my hip. I was still trembling when he kissed the crease of my thigh, my stomach, the hollow below my ribs. He looked up.
“Come here,” I breathed.
I pulled him up and kissed him, tasting myself on his mouth, and the intimacy of it sent heat rolling through me all over again. I pushed on his chest until he was back against the opposite post, sat himself down, and I straddled his lap. My knees hit the planking on either side of his hips, and a cleat caught my shin. “Ow. Shit. Hold on.”
He laughed. A real laugh, low and startled, that shook through him and into me. “Smooth.”
“Shut up.” I shifted my knee off the cleat, bracing on his shoulders, and we were both laughing, my forehead pressed to his, his arms around me, the absurdity of trying to do this on a dock that had clearly been designed without any of this in mind.
“We could go inside,” he offered.
“We could not.” I settled into his lap, his cock between us, and rolled my hips. The laughter died in his throat, replaced by a groan that resonated in my chest.
I reached down and guided him inside me. The fullness pulled a sound from me that carried over the water. I didn’t muffle it. We were outside, the marsh was dark, the only witnesses were the frogs and the tide, and I did not care.
I rode him. Slow at first, finding the angle, my hands on his shoulders, his palms gripping my hips. The dock creaked beneath us with each roll of my body. Stars above. Salt air on my skin. The current moving under the pilings, and the heat of himinside me, and I set every pace because tonight I was taking what I wanted.
“You feel incredible.” His voice had gone to gravel. His thumbs dug into my hipbones. “Marley—”
He shifted beneath me, rolling his hips up at an angle that hit deep, and the pleasure spiked so hard my vision blurred.
I’d been leading. Setting every pace. Holding the reins because that was what I did — controlled the dive, controlled the timeline, controlled how close anyone got. But his hips kept their rhythm and his body met mine. I felt the moment my grip on the pace started slipping, the rhythm turning ragged, my breath coming apart. The old reflex said hold on, stay in charge, don’t let go —
I let go.
I dropped my forehead to his and stopped trying to drive. Let my body follow his instead. Let him set the angle, the depth, the tempo, his hips rolling up into me while I trembled above him. The surrender terrified me and the terror broke something loose and what flooded through was so much bigger than control had ever been.
“I’ve got you,” he said against my mouth. Low. Certain. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
I shattered. My whole body clenching around him, my nails biting into his shoulders, a cry torn out of me that I couldn’t shape into words. The orgasm rolled through me in waves that left me gasping, and I let it take me, let him hold me through it, let myself be held.
He didn’t stop. His rhythm slowed, softened, rebuilding while I was still shaking. His lips found my breast, tongue circling my nipple, teeth grazing, and the next one built on the back of the first — slower, deeper, pulling from somewhere underneath my ribs.
“Stay with me.” His breath warm on my skin. “Right here. Don’t close your eyes.”
I kept them open. Watched his face while the next one built, and the intimacy of that, his eyes holding mine with nowhere to hide, was more than I could hold. I came apart with my face buried in his neck, his arms tight around me, his voice low in my ear saying my name. The pleasure broke through every wall I had left and I let it. I let it.
I cupped his jaw. Kissed him, tasting salt and both of us.
“Your turn.” I rolled my hips and tightened around him. “Come for me.”
His control broke. His hands locked on my hips, thrusting up into me, the rhythm rough and uneven. I matched him, rolling to meet each stroke. The dock groaned. The water lapped. His jaw clenched, his eyes found mine, and I watched the exact moment he surrendered: a breath that tore out of him, his body pulling taut beneath me, his cock pulsing inside me while he said my name once, low, the only word he had left.
I collapsed against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, tight, his face in my hair. Our breathing loud in the dark. The dock planks were still warm beneath us, holding the day’s heat, and somewhere out on the Intracoastal a shrimp boat engine hummed low and distant. The stars were enormous above us. I’d never noticed how many you could see from this dock.
“The cleat,” he said after a while.
“What about it?”
