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I let the leaves covering my hips fall away.

I enter the pool.

She studies my cock, dark and ridged heartwood already hard enough that the water presses against it.

She meets me at the submerged step, takes my wrist, and places my hand against her breast. I cup the weight. Her nipple tightens under the rough pad of my thumb.

“Closer,” she says, drawing me toward her.

She kisses me again, then pushes against my chest until I sit on the stone edge of the pool with my legs in the water.

Vai kneels on the broad, shallow step between my thighs, her shoulders well above the water.

She circles the thick head with her tongue, learning the ridges with her mouth. One hand closes around the base. The other grips my thigh.

“Vai.”

She takes me deeper.

My fingers grip the stone behind me. Her mouth is hot and soft around living grain, her tongue pressing the sensitive seam beneath the head before she draws back and does it again.

The bond carries her satisfaction at every loss of control she pulls from me.

I close one hand in her wet hair.

She lifts her mouth from me. “You can tell me what you like.”

“Keep going.”

My voice roughens as she takes me into her mouth again.

She laughs around me.

I slide into the water, lift her, and set her on the warm rim of the pool. She opens her legs before I touch them. Water runs from her skin into the moss.

“Do you want more?” I ask.

“Yes.” She draws me closer. “Come here.”

I put my mouth between her thighs.

Her cry rings raw across the water. I hold her hips and lick through the slick heat of her until I find the rhythm that makes her thighs tighten around my head. My tongue works her clitoris while one careful finger enters her, then another. She arches against the stone, one hand gripping my antler, the other braced in the moss.

“Daurek. More.”

I give her the pressure she asks for. Her thighs shudder and close around my head as she comes. I keep my mouth on her until she pulls at my antler and says my name without enough breath to make it an order.

When I rise, she reaches for my cock.

“Behind me,” she says. “I want you to stop looking composed.”

She slides back into the water, turns, and braces both hands on the pool edge. She stands on the broad step while I find my footing on the lower one behind her. She looks back at me. I grip her hips.

“Now,” she says.

I drive into her.

Her body opens around the thick length of me, still pulsing from my mouth. I withdraw to the ridge beneath the head and thrust again. Water breaks against the stone. Her fingers dig into the moss as I take her harder, each stroke seating me deep enough that the bond flares with the impact.