Because this version—the one touching her, holding her like salvation—this is the man I want to be.
The man she sees.
And when we move together, breath ragged, water rising around us, sun hanging low and gold, it feels less like desire and more like healing. Like being reborn in the place I thought had only taken from me.
The sun sinks toward the tree line, staining the sky orange-gold as I sink lower in the river, letting the water lap at my shoulders.
“Float on your back for me baby” I say, voice thick. She releases her legs around my waist, and I guide her back, letting her float in the water. Keeping one steady hand at the small of her back while she relaxes onto the water’s surface and I bring her legs to my shoulders, letting her thighs settle over them for balance, her skin warm against my neck.
The sight of her—body rising and falling with each careful breath—hits me low in the gut.
“Grant?” she whispers, eyes half-shut.
“I’ve got you, baby.” I answer, because I do. Because I will always.
I trace both palms up her sides, feeling every flex and shiver. My thumbs brush the nipple peaks beneath her swimsuit; the sharp inhale she gives me is instant, high and sweet. My cock pulsing under the weight of the water. I circle again, slower, memorizing the way her lips part, the soft sound that escapes.
“Oh… Grant.”
I can’t hide my grin. That one, breathy moan feels like a medal pinned to my chest. I keep my touch gentle but sure, smoothing over her ribs, down her stomach, each pass slower than the last so I can watch her react—eyes fluttering shut, chin tipping back, a tiny tremor in her thighs where they rest on my shoulders.
Late afternoon settles around us. Crickets start their song in the reeds, a lone heron wings past, and the current whispers over smooth stones. All of it feels hushed—like the land itself is holding its breath while I lower my mouth to Mia. I kiss up her leg, the soft spot at her knees, her calf, before placing a kiss on her ankle. I want to kiss, lick, taste and claim every part of her body, so that she’d know she’s mine.
She’s the single most beautiful woman, I’ve ever laid eyes on and she’s mine, whether she fully realizes it yet or not.
More than that—she’s letting me see her like this, open and trusting. Every second she floats here in my hands feels like a promise I have to earn.
I rest her leg back over my shoulder and trail my hands up the seam of her swimsuit, sliding the material to one side and I’m met with the sight her glorious bare pussy.
“Fuck, baby. You undo me just by breathing—seeing you like this finishes the job. You’re fucking incredible,” I say, the words scraping out rough. “You know that?”
Her gaze flickers up to mine, soft and shining. “Only when you look at me like that.”
“Well then, keep your eyes on mine, so you never forget, while I worship every inch of you.” I say, voice thick with hunger.
How am I supposed to think straight when all I want is to trace every curve I’m looking at with my tongue and never stop?
Hell, I don’t stop myself when I press a kiss to her inner thigh, tasting her warm skin. She lets out a soft, aching moan that echoes off the water and straight through my ribs.
Then I lower my mouth to her core like a mad man unleased in pure paradise. Spreading her open with my thumbs, I lick through her folds and a sweet sound escapes her throat.
I will never get enough of her. And if this is my only chance to taste her, I’m going to savor every second like it’s my last breath.
“You feel that baby?” I murmur against her, lips brushing her sensitive skin. The vibration making her let out a breathless moan.
“Your sweetness spellsmy name, clear as day and there’s no question—you taste likeyou’re mine.”
She gasps—and cries out as my tongue laps into her with a hunger and ferocity like a man possessed, needing to taste and lick every inch of her. I flatten my tongue, slow and broad, savoring her taste; then I tighten the motion, tracing deliberate circles on her clit, feeling her hips twitch and her fingers spear into my hair. The tug is sharp, perfect, and I lean into it—drinking in each sound she gives me, each tremor in her thighs.
“Grant,” she gasps, voice cracking. “Don’t stop—right there, please—don’t stop.”
Like hell I would.
I double down, licking and sucking with unrelenting precision, my grip on her thighs firm. She’s not going anywhere. Not while she’s coming apart in my hands. Not while I’ve got the privilege of watching her break wide open just for me.
Her hands reach for my forearms as I drag my tongue down her centre in long languid strokes and I don’t let up till her breath comes in ragged.
“Grant..I’m, I’m—”
