"Don't stop."
"Not stopping. Adjusting."
I slide my hands up her sides, thumbs tracing the edge of her bra through the soaked t-shirt. She arches into the touch and the wet fabric pulls taut across her breasts and I can see her nipples, hard and visible through the cotton, and my mouth actually waters.
"Can I?" I ask, fingers on the edge of her t-shirt.
She nods. Fast. Almost impatient.
I take it off and slide the straps of her bra down, easing the cups away from her skin, and her breasts come free and the sight of her knocks something loose in my chest. I lower my mouth to her breast. Press my lips to the soft skin above her nipple, then close my mouth around it and suck gently. She gasps, sharp, fingers tightening in my hair. I swirl my tongue around the peak, slow, learning the shape of her, and then I bite down, just enough. She moans, and the sound goes through me like a current.
"Sensitive," I murmur against her skin.
"More." She demands.
I grin. There she is. The real Maya, the one who demands more while her hips are rolling against my cock and her hands are pulling my hair and she's panting in the steam-thick air of a Montana sunset.
I could live in this moment forever.
But I want more. I want to taste her. I've been imagining the sounds she'd make and I want the real ones.
"I need you to do something for me," I say, lifting my head.
"What?" Her voice is barely there.
"Sit up on the edge."
She blinks, processing. I help her, hands on her waist, lifting her until she's seated on the wide rim of the tub, legs still in the water. The cold air hits her wet skin and she hisses, goosebumps racing across her arms, her stomach, her thighs. The contrast again. Heat and cold. The thing that makes every sensation sharper.
I'm kneeling on the submerged seat now, the water at my chest, her knees at my eye level. I look up at her. The sunset is behind her, gold and rose, turning her edges into light. Her chest is heaving. Her bra hangs loose around her belly. She looks wrecked and luminous and slightly terrified and I have never in my life wanted anything more than I want to put my mouth on her.
I run my hands up the outside of her thighs, slow. The skin there is cool from the air and pebbled with goosebumps and impossibly soft. My thumbs trace circles as I go, feeling her muscles tense and release under my palms. She's wearing underwear. Simple, cotton, soaked through. I hook my fingers in the waistband and look up at her.
"Yes?"
"Yes."
I slide them down her legs. She lifts her hips to help and the movement is shaky and eager and something about the eagerness, about the way she wants this too, makes my cock throb so hard I have to reach down and squeeze the base to keep from losing it before I've even started.
I spread her knees apart. She lets me. She's trembling, fine tremors in her thighs that I can feel under my hands, and when the air touches her she makes a sound that's just a sharp intake of breath and a small, involuntary roll of her hips toward me.
"Look at you. You're so fucking beautiful, Maya."
I press my mouth to the inside of her thigh. She jolts. I kiss a path upward, slow, deliberate, tasting clean skin and the faint mineral trace of the water. Her hands find my hair again, gripping, and I can feel the tension in her fingers. Not pulling me closer. Not pushing me away. Holding on.
I exhale against her center and she whimpers.
And then I taste her.
The first stroke of my tongue is slow. I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, light, testing. Her thighs clench around my head and her hips buck and I press my hand flat against her lower belly to hold her still.
"Easy," I murmur against her.
She whimpers again. Her grip in my hair tightens.
I take my time. Because I want to learn every response she has, every sound, every involuntary jerk and shiver and catch of breath. I want the full catalog. I want to know what makes her gasp and what makes her moan and what makes her grab my hair hard enough to hurt.
I find it. A rhythm, a pressure, a specific spot just to the left of center that makes her spine arch off the rim of the tub and her mouth fall open. I work it. Consistent. Relentless. Circling and pressing and then pulling her clit between my lips and sucking gently and her hand flies from my hair to the deck behind her, bracing, because her whole body is shaking now.
