His hand moved behind my head to hold me still while he kissed me slower, parting my lips so he could find my tongue. Heat blazed between my thighs, and I shifted my body so my legs wrapped around his waist.
A small groan rumbled in his throat, and he turned us in the water so he was facing the shore. “Looks like nobody else is out here.”
My lips moved to his ear, and I nibbled his earlobe. “Aren’t you worried about our artwork?”
“No.” His voice was a raspy whisper as his hands slid up my thighs. Jerking aside my panties, his fingers sank deep into my core.
“Oh!” Flexing, I lifted up against him.
“I want to roll you in blue paint and make love to you on a canvas.” His mouth moved along my jaw, kissing and pulling small bits of skin between his teeth. I shivered with every little nip, his words sending desire straight to where his fingers were massaging me.
“Yes, please,” I moaned, my hips moving with his hand.
“But I’d like to be inside you here first.” His mouth moved to mine and a splash of salt water went with it. As he moved me around, the ocean mixed with the minty flavor of him.
“Mmm,” I moaned, feeling his hands working at his waist. His erection was at my thigh, and in one swift motion he sank deep inside me, teasing me to the next level of pleasure as the waves lifted our bodies together.
“You feel so good,” he whispered in my ear. “Nothing’s like being inside you.”
The salt water mingled with his words, intensifying his thumb still circling, his teeth nibbling at my jawline. The light hairs across his chest teased my nipples, and my head swam with all the sensations. It wasn’t long before I was hitting the edge.
“Oohh!” My inner muscles tightened so hard, and tremors broke through my legs as the orgasm spasmed in my core. I cried out again, lifting up, holding his shoulder as I rocked my hips faster against him.
His muscles were tense, and I knew he was fighting to hold back. I couldn’t hold back. Waves of pleasure racked my body, and I moaned through the intense sensations.
“Finish, baby,” he breathed in my ear, his free hand trailing lightly over my ass under the water. That tingling move sparked another, harder aftershock in my core.
“Oh, my god, Slayde.” I gasped, riding it again until with a low groan, he quickly lifted me off of him, pulling out.
Fumbling my hand down, I quickly found his rigid shaft beside my thigh and pumped my hand up and down him quickly.
“Fuck,” he groaned, and I felt him jerk, coming in the waves that rocked us. His hips flexed as he thrust into my fist several more times. His eyes were pressed closed, and I kissed him against the temple, down his jaw, as his movements slowed.
He whispered something inaudible against my hair, and I hugged myself closer, pressing my lips to his. He consumed me roughly in that kiss, like he’d been held back from me and was finally released. He held me against his chest, and the emotions moving through me with every heartbeat were almost painful.
We were both breathing hard, melting into each other as the waves continued rocking. Now they were like a lullaby, easing us to calm.
His chin moved, and he kissed my cheek, still holding me firmly against his body. “I could do that a lot.” I breathed a laugh, and he continued. “I’m sorry I had to pull out on you like that.”
Leaning back, I held his neck. “I started the pill Friday, so we’ll have backup in a few days.”
He looked deep into my eyes. “I’ll get tested so you don’t have to worry about anything. I mean, you don’t have to worry now, but just so you’re confident.”
Nodding, I traced my fingertip over his brow. “I trust you.”
“Until then, we’ll be safe.”
Looking up, I noticed the sun setting. I thought about the fact that he was holding me here, shirtless in the water, and I wondered if that meant he was ready to reveal everything.
“Why don’t you head up to my place and get dry. The door’s unlocked. I’ll clean up the paints and meet you there.”
Chewing my lip, I understood he wasn’t quite ready. I nodded. “Are you sure you can get them yourself? We kind-of got paint everywhere.”
“Yeah,” he grinned, kissing my jawline. “I still want to try that sex on canvass technique.”
“That can be our next finger-painting date.”
We were slowly making our way out of the surf. My sundress was soaked and sticking to me, and he scooped up his paint-covered tank, holding it against the front of his body. SLAYER was clearly visible at his neck, but whatever he was hiding was further down, on his ribs, where the white tank was pressed securely under his arm.