I push forward slowly, inch by inch, my body shuddering as I breach her.
“Fuck—” The word tears out of me, guttural. She arches against me, lips parted in a sharp cry as I sink deeper.
The water slaps gently around us, cool against my overheated skin, but nothing can compare to the way she grips me. Tight, pulsing, like she was built to take me in and never let go.
Her head tips back, a gasp breaking into a moan. “Beau?—”
“I’ve got you.” My hands cradle her hips as I bottom out, her walls fluttering around me, squeezing, claiming. For a second, I can’t move. The sensation is too much. Too perfect.
Then she rolls her hips, a needy, slight motion that drags me deeper still, and I fight not to lose the last shred of control. My lungs seize, the world blurs, and I press my forehead to hers to remember to breathe.
“Easy,” I grit, my hands braced around her ribs, holding her afloat. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her nails scrape down my back, a sweet sting that makes me shudder.
“You won’t,” she whispers, lips trembling against mine. “Just—please. Please, Beau.”
So, I move slowly. Careful. Short thrusts that slide me deeper inch by inch.
She gasps against my mouth, her body clenching down so hard it’s like she’s pulling me in. I bite back a curse and kiss her instead, sloppy and hungry, teeth catching her bottom lip as I push again.
Every little sound she makes goes straight to my spine.
A sharp whimper when I angle differently, a broken moan when my palm slides up to cup her breast. Her legs lock around my waist, holding me inside her like she’s terrified I’ll pull away.
“Not going anywhere,” I murmur against her skin, kissing her jaw, her ear, the wet line of her throat. “I’m right here, sweetheart. All yours.”
Her body answers before her words do. She arches, taking me deeper, and suddenly she’s shaking. It hits fast, a rush of wet heat around me, her breath shattering in my ear.
“Oh—dammit—” she chokes out, and then her face tilts toward the sky. Tears streak down her cheeks, mixing with the water, and I swear my chest nearly breaks open.
I kiss them away, frantic, reverent. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” I murmur, even as her body milks me, even as I fight the brutal edge of my own release. “So beautiful when you fall apart for me.”
But she doesn’t stop.
She clenches repeatedly, every ripple dragging another cry from her lips. My thrusts stay steady, measured, because she’s so sensitive I know rough would break her.
But slow? Slow keeps her right on that knife’s edge, and soon she’s coming again, biting my shoulder to muffle the sobs.
“Beau,” she gasps, voice shredded. “I can’t—I can’t?—”
“Yes, you can.” I kiss her mouth, sloppy and wet, tasting salt and river and her all at once. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”
Her thighs tremble around me, her chest rising hard against mine, and she falls again. And again. Every release tears through her until she’s clutching me like she’ll drown without me.
I don’t know how long it lasts—seconds, minutes, an eternity. I know I’m holding her tight, kissing her lips and her cheeks and the curve of her shoulder like I’ll never get enough.
She fits against me perfectly. Like she was made to, her small frame molded to mine, her cries muffled against my throat, her heartbeat racing in time with mine.
I’ve been with women before. Heat-driven, quick, the kind of release that scratches an itch but leaves you empty after.
This? This feels like something else entirely.
It feels dangerously close to making love.
I whisper her name into her hair, into her skin, like a prayer. She trembles, her tears still slipping even as she kisses me back, messy and desperate. Every press of her mouth tastes like confession.
And God help me—I could do this forever.
