Hate You Not

I nod, and our foreheads press together. My fingers stroke back through his hair. I nip at his mouth and he laughs, and I feel it move from his chest into mine, and then we’re at it again, going at each other until I have no more thoughts, only the need to rub myself against him and wrap my legs around his waist.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” His gentle hands are on my forehead, pushing my wet hair back. His eyelids are heavy, but his mouth is smiling softly.

“I’ve been thinking about this.” The words are rough; it’s a confession. He looks dazed, with hair that’s sticking up from my tugging hands.

“Oh, have you?” I plant a kiss on his hard shoulder, my lips finding chills on his skin. I bite down on the muscle there, and he groans.

“Yeah.”

“Thinking about what?” I murmur.

“Touching you.”

“When you thought about it…like a daydream…what would I do to you?” I trail my fingers down his bare chest, toward the waist of his swim trunks.

“Don’t do that, June.”

I kiss his throat, rubbing my palm over his six pack. Then his hand is cupping me through my bikini bottoms. His lips trail over my forehead.

“Don’t try to distract me, Mr. Masterson.”

He strokes my tender, swollen skin through the thin fabric of my suit. “What, like this?” He’s grinning wickedly.

“You could do that…” My voice trembles with nerves and lust. “But if you did—” I lift the waistband of his swimsuit and reach inside, where my hand finds the thick head of his thick cock, and for a moment I still. “Then I might have to do this.”

I give him a slow but firm stroke, trying not to gape as I feel how thick and long he really is. Then his fingers delve under my bathing suit. One rubs over my skin and another traces my slit.

I can’t help a loud moan. My hand around him loosens, but I tighten it and stroke him again.

“June.” His voice sounds desperate. Another stroke, and I can feel him swell and throb. “Oh God.”

His fingertip dips into me, making me lift my hips. Then he pushes his finger inside, and my body starts to quiver.

“Burke…”

“Relax.” His palm is spread between my shoulder blades. With his other hand, he adds another finger, making me groan. He rolls his thumb over my clit. My breathy cries rise up above the lapping water and the night’s song.

“This is what I want to make you do. Come for me.” He fucks me with his fingers till I’m crazy, clutching his shoulder and moaning as he fills me up and then drags out…then stuffs me full again and kisses my clit with a fingertip.

“Oh God…” I reach for him. “I wanna feel you.”

He presses into my hand, and I grip the thick tip of him. Both of us are moaning, but he shifts his hips away. His eyes are half shut as he draws his fingers out of me, putting his hand behind my hips and lifting me out of the water.

“Please!” I gasp.

“Please what?” His smile is wicked.

“Fingers,” I rasp.

I grip the ladder from a different angle, holding myself up, and I realize that must be what he wanted me to do, because he groans, a growl-like sound, and then he’s feasting on me. He’s holding my hips at the water’s surface, licking me as he thrusts his fingers back in. It’s perfect—perfect—and my back is arched, my legs are clamped around his shoulders, my legs sometimes kicking.

I feel it building as I grab at his hair. Then, with no warning, the bomb goes off. I yell out, and he groans with me.

Suddenly the water’s cool, and I’m too warm. I’m drunk and dizzy, and I want to touch him. I want to make him make these sounds; I want to make him lose himself. I paddle upright, and then I reach down underwater for him. When my hand rubs his bulge through his trunks, he squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth as if it hurts.

“You’re so hard.”

“Can’t help it,” he says.

“I can help it.” He’s close. I can tell because his balls feel taut and swollen. I give his erection a few strokes, and his forehead comes to my shoulder.

“Fuck, June.”

I drag my fingertips around the crown of his head, wrap my fingers partway around him, stroking. He lets out a harsh moan, and I love the sound.

Then he’s thrusting his hips at me, pressing himself against me. I’m teasing his heavy sac and stroking back up his shaft.

I urge him into my arms, wanting him up against me, even though his torso’s heavy and we’re sinking in the water again. I’m focusing on his thick shaft, squeezing harder than before, and pumping faster. I feel him swell sharply. Then a burst of warmth fills my hand and his arm around me squeezes.