Her panties are barely anything underwater—just a strip of lace clinging to heat and temptation.And despite the water, I can still feel her warmth.The soft pressure of her pressing back against me.The way she moves like she wants to be touched.Like she needs it.
She tilts her head, just a little, glancing back at me with wide, sinful eyes—sweet, dangerous, and so goddamn smug.
I could come just from this.From her grinding on me like that—wet, willing, waiting.
Fuck, she feels so good.
I suck in a breath.Don’t let it out.
Don’t lose it yet.
She moves again.Barely.But it’s enough.
My cock pulses against her, twitching like it’s begging for permission.
“Baby,” I groan, voice cracking on the word.“You keep doing that and I’m going to take you right here.Against the wall.Against him.Wherever the fuck you want.”
“Oh, I think she does,” Monty mutters behind me, his voice a low growl that vibrates across her spine.“Pretty sure she wants us to fill her.I mean, we promised that a few weeks ago, didn’t we, baby?”
Vesper gasps.
Her thighs shift in the water like she’s trying to close them—too late.My hand slides along her stomach, slow and possessive.I don’t go for her panties yet.I touch just above them, fingers trailing across soft skin, teasing the edge of the place she wants me most.
She arches slightly, and I press my mouth to her jaw.
“You stripped in front of us like it was nothing,” I murmur, dragging my lips down to her throat.“Like you didn’t know we were watching every goddamn move.You wanted this.Wanted us thinking about how good you’d feel wrapped around our cocks, didn’t you?”
She shudders so hard it rocks the water.
Monty’s voice is closer now.“I bet she’s wet and needy.”
I turn my head slightly, speaking over her shoulder, eyes still on her face.
“Get in front of her.”
Monty’s quiet for half a second.Then he moves, water rippling as he steps between her legs.Vesper’s back arches slightly, her body caught between ours.Her eyes flick up to his, then over her shoulder to mine—wide, dazed, pupils blown.Her breath is coming faster now, lips parted like she’s already begging even if no words have come.
Perfect.
She doesn’t have to speak.Her body is screaming for it.
I press closer, my chest flush to her back, caging her between us.My hands skim up her waist, over the curve of her ribs.I find the clasp of her bra at the center of her spine.
I unhook it slowly.Let her feel it.
“Hold her still,” I tell Monty, voice low.
He anchors her hips, steadying her.She shivers against him—electric.
I peel the straps off her shoulders one at a time, dragging my thumbs along the trail they leave—slow, reverent, filthy.
The lace slips away, weightless, floating off into the water, forgotten.
She gasps.
Not from cold.From exposure.
From the feeling of both of us right there, watching her come undone.
