I pulled back and swirled my tongue over the head and he jerked in my grip. I did it again, slower, watching his stomach clench. I wanted to take him apart how he’d taken me apart on Wednesday. I wanted him shaking.
He was shaking. His breath came ragged, his head dropping back, his hand tightening in my hair. I sucked him deep and held, listening to the sounds he made carry across the water, off the limestone, into the empty trees.
“Stop,” he said, rough. “Come up here. I need — Layla, come here.”
I pulled off with one last drag that made him curse. He reached down and lifted me onto the ledge beside him and then he was over me, pressing me back against the heated stone, his wet body covering mine.
“My turn,” he said at my ear, and his mouth started down my throat.
He kissed between my breasts, his stubble rough against the soft skin. He kissed my ribs, the curve of my waist — pausing on my stomach, pressing his mouth to it with a deliberateness that made my breath catch. Then lower. He settled between my thighs on the sun-heated rock and I could feel his breath against me and my hips lifted before he touched me.
“Look at you,” he murmured. “Out here in the sun. Nothing hiding.” His thumbs spread me open and his mouth landed hot and sure on my clit and I gasped.
He licked me slow. Long, flat strokes with the width of his tongue, then tighter circles until my toes curled against the rough limestone. The sun pressed on my breasts and the rock held fast under my back and his mouth was warm between my legs and I was surrounded by heat, drowning in it. He sucked my clit gently and slid two fingers inside me and curled them and my hips came off the rock.
“Wade — oh God—”
“Let me hear you.” He fucked me with his fingers, slow and deep, his tongue working my clit in circles. “Nobody out here but us. Let me hear everything.”
I let him hear everything. The sounds I made echoed off the water and the trees and I didn’t care. His mouth was relentless, his fingers finding a rhythm that built the pressure low in my belly into something unbearable. He flattened his tongue and pressed hard against my clit and twisted his fingers and I broke.
The orgasm rolled through me in long, shuddering waves. I arched off the stone and grabbed his hair and cried out, and he held me through it, his mouth gentling but not leaving, easing me down with soft licks that sent aftershocks through my thighs.
He didn’t pull away. His mouth stayed on me, lighter now, teasing, tracing lazy circles while the aftershocks still pulsed. I was trembling, oversensitive, every nerve lit up, and when he sealed his lips around my clit again and sucked gently I nearly came off the rock.
“You are so beautiful right now,” he said against me. “The sounds you make. I could stay right here until you can’t remember your own name.”
“I can’t remember it now.” My voice came out wrecked.
He laughed, low and rough, and the vibration of it against my clit sent a spike of pleasure through me that bowed my spine. His fingers curled inside me again and his tongue pressed flat and firm and this time the orgasm built faster, sharper, cresting before I could brace for it. I came with my heels dug into the limestone and his name carrying across the water, and his groan against my pussy sent one last shock through me that left me boneless.
Before I’d finished trembling he slid up my body and kissed me. I tasted myself on his tongue and his cock was hard against my thigh and I wanted him inside me with an urgency that felt like hunger.
“Now,” I said. “Wade, now.”
He pulled back to look at me. “You sure?”
“If you ask me that one more time I’m going to drown you in this lake.”
He laughed against my mouth. Then he braced one hand on the rock beside my head and used the other to guide himself to my entrance. He pushed in slow, and the stretch and the heatand the fullness of him pulled a moan from somewhere deep in my chest.
He filled me completely. I was swollen and sensitive from his mouth and every nerve was firing. He held still for a second, his forehead pressed to mine, both of us breathing. The late sun slanted gold across the water and turned his wet skin to bronze.
Then he moved.
He fucked me with the urgency of a man who had almost lost this and knew it. His hips drove into me, deep and deliberate, and each thrust hit a spot that blurred everything at the edges. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him deeper and we found a rhythm that was rough and honest and ours.
“You’re so tight,” he said against my throat. “You feel so good. Fuck, Layla, you feel—”
“Harder.”
He gave me harder. His hand gripped my hip, tilting me so his cock hit deeper. I dug my nails into his back and he growled against my collarbone and drove in again with a force that pressed the breath out of me. I wanted all of it. I wanted the bruises. I wanted to feel this tomorrow and the day after that, proof that I’d chosen to be here, naked on a rock in full daylight, with nothing to hide behind.
“You’re mine tonight,” I said, and the words surprised both of us. His eyes snapped to mine. I held his gaze and rolled my hips up into him and his breath shattered. “On that stage, in front of everyone. Mine.”
“Yours.” His voice broke on it. He sealed his mouth over mine and fucked me deep, both hands bracing the rock beside my head, every thrust sending a bolt of heat through my clit that tightened low and desperate in my belly. The wet sounds of our bodies mixed with the lap of the water against the rock and my own voice, which had abandoned language entirely.
He shifted his angle and hit a spot that whited out my vision. I cried his name. He did it again and I grabbed a fistful of his hair and held on.
