He dips a single finger into the tight heat of me, and the sting is sharp, immediate, a burn that melts into a deep, throbbing ache as he moves, slow and careful, letting me adjust. He works me open with a devastating patience, preparing me, stretching me, each slow thrust a wave building upon the last until I am writhing against him, a mindless, desperate thing that needs more, needs everything.
The water rushes past us, a cool caress against my overheated skin, but all I can feel is him, the solid heat of him at my back, the skilled possession of his hands, the promise of what's to come.
Then he removes his fingers, and the emptiness is a sudden, aching void.
He grips my hips, positioning me with a sure, possessive strength. I feel the thick, blunt head of him press against my entrance, and I brace myself, my body thrumming with anticipation.
"Ready for me, my sun?" he rumbles in my ear, the nickname a possessive brand that sends a final, shuddering thrill through me.
I can only answer with a choked sob, pushing back against him. He doesn't make me wait.
With a heavy, deliberate surge, he pushes past the tight ring of muscle, burying himself inside me to the hilt in one powerful thrust.
The sensation is a searing, full-body overload, a white-hot pain that immediately blossoms into an impossibly deep, resonant pleasure that steals the breath from my lungs.
A ragged shout tears from my throat, raw and uncontrolled.
He is huge, a solid, unyielding pressure that stretches me to my absolute limit, claiming every inch of me in a way that is both possessive and profoundly intimate.
"Kael!" I gasp, my head falling back against his shoulder. He doesn't move, letting me adjust, his grip on my hips the only thing holding me together as my muscles tremble and convulse around him.
"So tight," he groans, his voice a low, guttural vibration against my ear, "so perfect."
He begins to move then, a slow, deep rhythm that sends waves of intense pleasure crashing through me with every forward movement. He sets a punishing pace, a heavy, driving rhythm that is worlds away from our frantic coupling before. This is a deliberate claiming, a slow, exquisite torture that builds and builds, wrapping the tension in my gut tighter and tighter until I feel like I might shatter into a million pieces.
His rough skin drags against my own sensitized flesh, a delicious friction that sends sparks skittering up my spine.
He shifts, changing the angle slightly, and the next thrust hits a place inside me so blindingly intense that I see stars. A high, keening cry escapes my lips, my hands scrambling on his powerful arms as my body arches wildly.
"There," he growls, a dark, triumphant sound, and he hits that spot again, and again, a relentless, devastating assault that unravels me completely.
The world narrows to the feeling of him moving inside me, the possessive grip of his hands on my hips, the deep, rumbling vibrations of his groans against my back. I am lost in a sea of pure sensation, my mind gone, my body a vessel for his pleasure and my own.
He reaches around, his rough, calloused hand wrapping around my aching length, and the dual sensations are too much.
My entire body convulses, a jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure so intense it borders on pain. His calloused grip on my length is both an anchor and a lightning rod, and he begins to stroke me in counterpoint to the devastating rhythm of his hips.
The dual sensations are a symphony of beautiful torment, a relentless stimulation that builds a storm deep within me, threatening to tear me apart.
I can hear myself making sounds, broken, desperate cries that are barely recognizable as my own, as he drives into me again and again, hitting that secret spot with unerring accuracy. The water around us seems to thrum with our shared energy, the water itself joining our rhythm, pulling and pushing us together in a wild, untamed dance.
"You're so beautiful like this," he rasps, his voice a low, possessive growl that vibrates through my entire being. "Taking me so well. All mine."
His words crack in the fragile composure I've been clinging to.
He tightens his grip on my hips, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, more erratic as he chases his own release. His control is slipping, the beast within him emerging, and the thought of him losing himself inside me is the final push over the edge.
My inner muscles clench around him, a desperate, involuntary spasm that pulls a ragged groan from his chest. The heaviness in my belly snaps, and I shatter, my body arching as a scream is torn from my throat, my release pulsing hot and fast into the cool, clear water.
I'm a trembling, boneless thing in his arms, aftershocks of my release still rippling through my body as I float in the dazed, blissful haze.
But Kael isn't done with me.
With a gentleness that steals my breath, he slowly, carefully pulls out of me, the sudden emptiness a hollow ache that makes me whimper.
Before I can even process the loss, he's turning me in the water, guiding my limp, pliant body until I'm facing him. He sinks lower, his powerful grey tail a graceful fin propelling him downward, until his face is level with my hips. His dark, storm-grey eyes meet mine, holding my gaze for a heartbeat that stretches into eternity, a silent question that I answer by arching my back, a silent invitation.
Then he leans in, and I cry out as I feel the hot, wet slide of his tongue against my over-sensitive flesh.
