“Okay, let’s try.”
She’s so brave. I have no idea what happened or why she’s terrified of water. But I don’t want this memory to be about reliving past trauma. I want to replace her pain and fear with something unique, something she can look back on and know this was a defining point.
I tug off her T-shirt and drop it on my pile of clothing. My head dips, and I graze my teeth on her nipple through her bra. Her hands thread into my hair, and she leans her head back, the moonlight skimming over her skin. She is a goddess. Lucky me, I get to worship at her altar. I make short work of the rest of her clothing, grinning as I realize she hasn’t had the opportunity to replace the panties I tore off her earlier. My fingers trailbetween her legs and tease her entrance, my eyes widening at the wetness.
“Is this from earlier or now?” I rumble, my cock rising in anticipation.
She shrugs. “Don’t know. The only way to tell is to taste it.”
The smirk on her face is a bold dare she doesn’t think I will take. I dip my middle finger inside, chuckling when she grips my forearms and shuffles her feet apart. I don’t want her sated, and this isn’t what I had planned. It was stupid on my part; getting naked with Eleanor is always going to result in me touching her.
I drag my fingers away from her wet heat and slide them into my mouth with a low hum. Her pupils blow wide. She likes it a little dirty. Good. So do I.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, trouble.”
She does, and I sweep my tongue along hers in a sensual caress. I pull away with a smirk. “Well?”
“Tastes like both of us.”
“Which means you have tasted yourself before to know.”
She drags her bottom lip between her teeth, her body rocking towards me. “Yes.”
My cock, already hard, jerks in response. “On someone else’s tongue?”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“How?”Put me out of my misery, trouble.
Her cheeks flush. “After I come, sometimes I taste my fingers.”
She is so unashamedly honest, it’s utterly devastating, and she has no clue the effect she has on me. “Do you like it?” I rasp, my voice gravel in my throat.
“Yes.” Good, because I’m now fucking obsessed with witnessing it. “We can go back to the tent, and I’ll happily demonstrate for you.”
My chuckles push my body against hers, making her breath catch in her throat.Well played.I shake my head, entwine our fingers, and start walking backward toward the lake’s edge. Her chest rises and falls, faster and faster, her skin turning pale. She grits her teeth the second the water laps at our feet. I pause, loosening my grip and giving her a chance to retreat if it’s too much. When she doesn’t, I guide her in further. She sucks in a breath as the water goes higher, her eyes never leaving the glassy surface. When her waist is submerged, I stop again.
“You doing okay?” I ask.
“Define okay.”
My lips press together. “Do you want to flee from the water?”
“Yes.”
Okay. This was a good first attempt. I take a step forward. She stops breathing and tugs her hands free from mine, pressing against my chest with trembling fingers.
“Yes, I want to flee. No, I am not going to. I made it this far.”
I let her feel the water gently lapping at her hips, the soothing rhythm seeming to settle in her bones, and she takes another step deeper, pushing me with her. I don’t pressure her each time she re-centers herself. I’m simply here to support, guide, and catch her should she need it. The water is now at her breasts, her unsteady breaths creating steady ripples around us. She’s doing amazing for a woman who is terrified of water and can’t swim. And while my original intent wasn’t to open another wound and soothe it with better memories, it is still a precious gift for her to be so vulnerable.
“I don’t think I can go any further,” she whispers, her voice cracking.
“That’s okay. We’re in the perfect place.”
Her brow furrows. “For what?”
“For me to show you one of my favorite views in the entire world, Eleanor.”
