I kissed her hard, mouth greedy, tongue tangling with hers, trying to hold on and give in at the same time. Her other breast pressed against my chest, and I dragged my lips over to it, sucking with the same hunger that clawed at my spine.
We both gasped.
Her hand never stopped moving.
Then—she moved first.
Her hand slid up my thigh again, this time not teasing. “You don’t have to talk,” she whispered. “Just be here.”
The creek roared louder behind us.
She swung one leg over me, straddling my lap, her dress bunched at her hips. Her body was heat and hunger and soft wet velvet.
I cupped her ass in both hands, fingers digging in as she kissed me again—hard, open-mouthed, deep.
And then she sank down onto me.
Slow. So slow.
My eyes slammed shut, jaw locked tight.
“Fuck—”
It wasn’t even a word anymore. Just the sound of something breaking inside me.
She rolled her hips, finding rhythm, her hands braced on my shoulders, her breath hitching right along with mine. Skin slapped skin. The sound of her cheeks clapping against my thighs folded into the music of the creek.
A bird cried out in the trees. And I was gone.
Her body gripped me like she’d been made for this—made for me. She rocked slow, deliberate, her breath catching each time our hips met. Her hands splayed across my chest, grounding herself, while her eyes stayed locked on mine.
I couldn’t look away.
Not from the way her lips parted in pleasure. Not from the sweat beginning to form at her temple.
Not from the quiet, guttural sounds that spilled from her throat—like she was trying to hold them back but couldn’t.
My hands roamed her back, her waist, her thighs. I memorized every shift of her body, every roll of her hips, the way she clenched around me tighter when I whispered her name like it was sacred.
“Naima…”
She leaned down, kissed me again—this time slower, deeper. Her tongue moved with the same rhythm as her hips, and I could taste the truth between us. The hunger. The need. The tenderness neither of us wanted to name yet.
Her name left my mouth again, lower this time. Wrecked.
She was riding me like she knew I was close, like she wanted to see how long I could last before I lost myself completely.
And I was right there.
I sat up, wrapping my arms around her waist, burying my face between her breasts. Her skin was warm and fragrant, hernipples still sensitive as my tongue flicked over one, then the other, even as she kept moving.
“Shit, baby—” I hissed through clenched teeth, feeling myself throb deep inside her.
She arched against me, whispering, “I feel it…”
My grip on her hips tightened. I guided her now, lifting her just enough to feel the slide, then pushing her back down until we both trembled.
The creek roared behind us. Birds called above. But the only sound I truly heard was her.
