Page 28

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J uliana looked around, Simon’s words sinking in. They made sense. The space was round, like a hot tub. It was hot, like a hot tub. It had benches like a hot tub. But it connected to a river and was carved into the earth.

“Hot tub?”

“Hot spring, actually,” he said. “The rest is my doing.” She looked at him in question. “Last year, I came out here to fish,” he said. “I set a chair down and, well, I fell asleep. When I woke up, the chair had sunk into the ground and when I moved it, I noticed the water around the legs was warm, almost hot. It made me curious, so I started digging.”

“Then digging a bit more,” she said, letting go of his hand and turning in a circle. “You dug this space out, added the benches, and now you have a hot tub,” she said, still in awe. “It’s…it’s…” She wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Amazing” seemed trite. “Magical” didn’t fit either as they were surrounded by so much real nature.

“My place,” he said.

She turned and met his gaze. “It’s your place,” she said, understanding that he’d handed her yet one more piece of him. Without a word—or any hesitation—she moved, looping her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and pulling her body flush to his.

His arms encircled her, holding her close. His erection nestled between them. She had so many questions, but she didn’t feel like talking. Instead, she kissed him, connecting to him in the most primal way, with her body.

He shifted one hand, spearing it through her wet hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. Every part of their bodies that could touch at the same time touched; she even felt his heart beating.

It occurred to her that for the first time, she had no reservations—she’d wrapped her arms around him without thought to her body, her heart, or even her mind. She simply needed—wanted—to be as close to him as two people get. And that was when she realized she’d completely, inalterably, fully handed herself into his keeping. He held her heart, he held her hopes, her vulnerabilities, and her strengths. He didn’t carry the responsibility for those things, but what she’d given him was something much more precious—choice. The choice to protect them, to respect them, to cherish them, and foster them. Never in her life had she placed so much trust in another human being. And while alarm bells rang on the edges of her mind, joy—the joy of having met him, the joy of having found a person she trusted to carry so much, the joy of having the courage to embrace this new thing —drowned them out.

Simon backed them to one of the benches, and she untangled her ankles and straddled his thighs as he sat, the stone hard, but not rough, beneath her shins. She rocked against him, trailing kisses along his jaw, nipping at his earlobe. One of his hands cupped her breast, rolling and plucking her nipple the way she liked—the way that sent a shard of need straight to her core— while the other splayed across her lower back, holding her tight against him.

When his hips started moving under hers, need seized her body. Drawing back, she stared at Simon, his head resting on the top of the bench, his eyes closed. His hand still cupped her, and the pleasure she saw on his face almost had her coming undone.

As if sensing her gaze, his eyes fluttered open. He slowed his rocking.

“I have an IUD,” she said.

He stilled, understanding exactly what she implied. He stared. For several seconds. Oddly, it didn’t make her nervous. He wanted this as much as she did, but it was as if he were weighing what to do next—stay in the water or move to the land.

She understood his debate—sex in water might seem sexy, but it rarely turned out that way. Still, she didn’t want to break this moment, this moment in this special place that he’d shared with her.

Reaching between them, she wrapped her hands around his erection and rose on her knees. Positioning him at her entrance, she began the dance, lowering herself an inch, then backing off, then lowering herself a bit more, before backing off again.

She leaned forward, resting her forehead on Simon’s shoulder, wanting to memorize the feel of him entering her for the first time. His head fell back again and his hands gripped her hips, although he continued letting her set the pace.

When she finally sank down and took all of him inside her, every nerve in her body buzzed and yearned and craved more. The slow, torturous teasing was divine, but she vibrated with want.

“Simon,” she said; her breath came in short huffs. She wanted more, but so lost in sensations, she didn’t know what to do next.

“More?” he asked, reading her mind.

She drew back, met his gaze, then nodded.

“Kiss me,” he said. Obeying his order, she leaned forward and set her lips to his. He opened and as their tongues danced and tasted and tangled, he shifted a hand to her front and started teasing her body as he rocked his hips in the small movements that the bench and their positions allowed.

It was enough, though. Enough to take the edge off, enough to send her spiraling up. He swallowed her sounds of need as he drew her tauter and tauter. When her core fluttered and heat spread through her body, she teetered for one more glorious moment, then unable to keep her voice caged, she pulled back and let out a cry as her body shook with the release.

When the tremors eased, she dropped her head to Simon’s shoulder again. When he shifted beneath her, she knew he wasn’t done. Neither was she.

“Wrap your legs around me again,” he demanded, rising. How he managed to stand, she had no clue, but she willingly obeyed and locked her ankles behind his back as he stood.

Turning so she faced the river, he leaned over her, setting a knee on the stone where he’d just sat.

“I’m not going to go easy,” he said, angling them even further until her shoulder blades hit the top of the bench. He slid one hand between her skin and the stone, protecting her, while the other gripped her hip.

“Please don’t,” she said. She wanted to see him wild, she wanted to see him take everything he could from her, she wanted to see him lose control.

Despite his words, he started out slow, his thrusts deep and sure as his forehead rested against hers.

“I can’t…you feel…” He either didn’t have the words or couldn’t speak. Both did wonders for her ego and made her want to urge him on.

“More, Simon,” she said before fisting his hair in her hand and pulling him into a bruising kiss.

He didn’t hesitate, and his rhythm picked up as he devoured her. Delicious heat built between her thighs again and she whimpered, spreading her knees wider while tightening her ankles locked around his back.

With little more than a grunt, he took advantage of the extra access and thrust harder, faster. Unable to focus on more than the feel of him, she loosened her hold on his hair and let her head fall against the soft earth where the riverbank met the bench. Simon threw his own head back, a look of fierce need in his expression.

Consumed by him—by his hands on her body, by his hips thrusting between her thighs, by the primal sounds coming from his throat—she was only dimly aware of her other senses. Of their harsh breathing filling the quiet afternoon, of the water splashing over the riverbank, of the sun’s rays lighting Simon’s face.

She let out another whimper as the flutterings began again. “Simon,” she said, both an entreaty and a warning. In response, his hips snapped even harder, faster. In a flash, the flutterings burst into a powerful orgasm that swept over her with such force that she didn’t even have a chance to pull in a breath.

Silently, she cried out, her body clenching, pulling, holding Simon inside her. He managed to pull out and thrust in two more times before he, too, succumbed to the power that neither of them could or wanted to deny. A strangled roar escaped him as he pulsed deep inside her, filling her with his heat.

Her body drank him in, every last move, every last pump, every last twitch. Until they were still.

Slowly, her ears and mind cleared enough to hear their breaths, harsh and uneven in the quiet of their surroundings. Another minute passed before an ache in her hips started making itself known. Another minute after that, Simon turned and dropped back onto the bench, cradling her against him, her legs once again straddling his thighs.

With her head resting on his shoulder, he gently ran one hand up and down her spine. When she tilted her chin and dropped a little nibbling kiss on his neck, he pulled her tight and kissed her hair.

“I have zero regrets about what we did,” he said. “But next time, can we be somewhere softer than stone?”

She laughed softly. “It was a memorable first time in more ways than one, but yes. Next time, let’s try a bed.”