neck, and then up, tickling through my hair. He drags his fingertips up my scalp until he is utterly intertwined with me. Everything fucking burns. “Naked.”
“Carlo …”
“Yes?” He tilts his head.
I was going to say: Carlo, no. But I find I don’t want to anymore.
He presses closer, leaning in. His breath kisses the place where his thumb just was. His fingers are electric. His lips are so close to mine now, I can taste his grief.
“What is it, Hazel?”
“I want to swim with you,” I say, shifting my lips up and down his, a half kiss, sharing breath, inhaling each other. I forget my anger. Lust replaces it. There is a fine line there, I guess.
And I want him. Despite everything, I want him bad.
“Naked.”
Keeping his face close to mine, he toys with the buttons on my coat, undoing them one by one. His blue-green eyes are alight with what we’re about to do. I let the coat fall from me, the night air pricking my bare legs. I’m only wearing shorts and a tank top.
Carlo steps back, looking me up and down.
“Strip,” he whispers.
I grin. “You first.”
He starts unbuttoning his shirt. I slip off my sneakers, wriggle out of my shorts and my underwear, pull my tank top over my head. The night is warm but my nipples are still hard. They are begging to be sucked, played with. Carlo’s cock is a solid rod as he steps forward, naked, all ten inches of him standing up. His tanned skin glistens.
I reach forward to grab him, but he catches my wrist, spinning me. I let out a squeal when he lifts me up and cradles me to his chest.
“Wait, wait, wait, no, Carlo, no—ahh!”
He leaps into the water with me in his arms.
For a second, there is nothing but rushing echoes in my ears, and then I break the surface, leaping up as cold jabs at me.
“You asshole!” I cry, slapping his soaking wet chest. “What the hell is wrong with you? This is cold. Like, it should be illegal for it to be this cold. It’s summer!”
“Come here,” Carlo growls, wet hair flat across his forehead. He looks wild, dangerous. “I’ll warm you up.”
There really is no other choice. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and he leans down, kissing me slower than he has yet. Our tongues explore each other as his impossibly warm hand trails down my chest and finds my nipple. He pinches it softly, massaging, tickling.
“Don’t stop,” I gasp.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He brings his other hand up and massages my nipple.
“Oh Jesus,” I cry, collapsing against him. “I don’t even—I can’t even—Touch me, Carlo. I want your cock.”
“And here I was thinking you were a civilized lady.” He smiles as his hands find my ass cheeks.
I wrap my legs around him. This close to each other, the water no longer seems so cold. He’s blurry as it seeps down my forehead and into my eyes. But I don’t care. I can feel him. That’s all that matters.
I reach down and find him, stroking, moving my hips down toward his tip. He arches his back and pulls me down at the same time.
His cock grinds up inside me.
“Let me lead,” I whisper in his ear. “Just hold me.”
I begin to bounce up and down as one hand cradles my back and the other is tight on my ass. My breasts shift up and down against his muscled chest, my nipples tender to the touch. I angle myself so it hits right, just fucking perfect, and then I can’t calculate anymore because his cock is pulsing.
He senses this, and, with a low groan that tells me he can hardly take it anymore, he grabs my hips and throws me up and down on his cock. Water sloshes all around, droplets flying. His mouth is on my shoulder, nibbling, and then in my ear.
“This is the best I’ve ever had it,” he groans. “The fucking best.”
“I’m going to come,” I tell him. “I’m so close.”
“Do it. Let me hear you. Let me feel you.”
I let out a cry as I collapse against him. My pussy pulsates so that he feels twice as big inside of me. I find his lips, but I can’t kiss him. Our teeth clack together.
“Hazel!” he roars, and for a brief instant I wonder what it would be like for him to roar it that way forever. “I can’t—I fucking …”
Somehow, we end up near the shore as he is wilting