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His eyes were hazy. She could tell he couldn’t resist her when she told him what to do. It was like he’d been hypnotized. He leaned in and kissed her softly, deeply, and obediently. His thumbs circled her nipples in a way that had her stifling a moan as he eased her closer to some invisible precipice of pleasure.

She was almost frozen with physical gratification. But she managed to reach toward his groin with one hand. She found a hard length already tenting his pants. The shape of him was utterly fascinating. She could have held and stroked his cock all day. And the way he tensed when her fingers brushed it was adorable.

She pulled his hair and kissed him harder, and his reaction was immediate and powerful. He moaned into her mouth, a deep, throaty sound, and his body pressed in around her, bending her over the edge of the pool.

Zara broke away from his mouth as she stroked the outline of his cock in the sodden, clinging fabric of his pants. “If I tell you I want this, will you give it to me?”

His reply was low and smooth. “I will do anything you ask.”

A rush went through her.

“I want to see you come,” he said, his breath hitting her neck as his fingers teased the tight, sensitive peaks of her breasts. Her hand was still in his hair, using it to hold him close. It was hard to breathe. She’d never known anyone like this—someone who wanted to be a servant devoted to her pleasure, someone who let himself be guided by her hand.

She took his hand and moved it slowly down her body until it rested just above the joining of her legs. Immediately he cupped the soft flesh in his palm, his fingers teasing at her slit.

It had been ages since anyone but herself had touched her there, and the presence of someone else’s hand, so different from her own, was jarring.

“Zara?” he asked.

She looked up at him dizzily, meeting his eyes as his hand flexed lazily against her. “Yes?”

“What next?” he prompted her gently, waiting for her word to continue. The heel of his palm ground against her, and she felt weak. Her entire body felt soft and trembly and desperate, and it was difficult for her to keep up the bossy, confident front.

She used her hold on his hair to tilt his face toward her. “Do not stop.”

His fingers rubbed her, and despite the water, she could feel a slickness where he touched. A smile broke through his serious expression.

“Like this?” he asked, delicately circling the most sensitive parts of her.

She had no critiques. “Yes,” she breathed. As the sensations blooming from her sex grew more intense with each stroke, she lost her grasp on his hair and had to brace herself against the edge of the pool. She reached again for his cock and was rewarded with a tight growl as he ground against her hand.

He turned her around and put an arm around her waist, pulling her against him, and then his other hand was diving back between her legs in a ruthless caress. Zara gasped, doubling over, but he moved with her, pressing his front to her back as she bent over the side of the pool.

“Like this?” he asked in her ear, stroking her again.

“Yes,” she said, her voice strained. His presence around her, against her, was overwhelming. She could no longer command him. She could hardly even command her own body, and if he hadn’t been there to hold her securely in place, her quivering legs might have collapsed beneath her.

“Like this?” he whispered, and his fingers pressed against her tight, slick opening. A soft sound escaped her.

“Yes,”she gasped.

He pushed into her, her opening spreading as his fingers penetrated her. Then his fingers curled, pressing against some part of her that made her knees go weak. She felt herself contract around him as he filled her. Gods, she had never felt so relaxed and so alive at once. She had never felt so connected to someone. She had never felt so taken care of.

When she came, she felt like she was melting into him. Her legs finally gave out, and then his arms were the only thing holding her up.

And inexplicably, as the euphoria of climax faded, she thought of Theron. A cold feeling washed over her.

There was something about the extreme sensation of climax that reminded her, in a strange way, of being on the ground, writhing in pain. In that moment, she was at the mercy of another person. It was the same feeling in reverse.

The joy she’d just felt was replaced by an unexpected, unwanted melancholy.

Nero’s fingers slowly slipped from her. He was breathing hard against her shoulder.

“Zara?”

She realized that she had gone suspiciously quiet. She swallowed, staring at the stone beneath her splayed hands. “Yes?”

He lifted her upright, holding her back against him. His lips pressed beneath her ear. He held her for a long time. Slowly, her melancholy began to fade.