Page 26 of Scorched Veil
“Kairo … I’m gonna …”
“Come,” he commands, voice dark. “Right here, let the water make you fall apart for me.”
The orgasm hits me like a tidal wave. I cry out, my body convulsing as pleasure rips through me so hard my vision whites out. My pussy clamps down around his fingers while the waterfall continues beating against my clit, dragging the orgasm out longer and harder until I’m shaking uncontrollably in his arms. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers until I’ma whimpering, oversensitive mess, twitching with aftershocks. Only then does he pull them out, turn me around, and crush his mouth to mine under the pounding water, kissing me like he wants to devour every sound I just made.
He doesn’t let me recover. Still shaking from my orgasm, he drags me back toward the smooth, sun-warmed rocks at the edge of the pool. He lays me out like a feast, my back arching against the warm stone while the waterfall continues to mist over us. Without a word, he reaches for the champagne bottle, the glass icy and dripping condensation.
He tilts it slowly.
The freezing liquid pours directly over my chest in a sparkling cascade. I gasp sharply at the shock as the icy champagne falls over my overheated skin. My nipples harden instantly into tight, aching peaks as the cold bubbles run in rivulets between my breasts and down my stomach, pooling in my navel before spilling lower, mixing with my own wetness.
Kairo’s mouth follows the trail like a man possessed. His tongue drags slowly through the fizz on my collarbone, then lower, licking a hot, wet path between my breasts. He circles one nipple with the flat of his tongue, sucking the cold champagne and my sensitive peak into his mouth with a deep, hungry groan. He does the same to the other, sucking harder, teeth grazing just enough to make me moan and arch into him.
He keeps going, licking every drop from my skin, slow, indulgent strokes down my stomach, tongue dipping into my navel to chase the sweet pool there.
Then lower … he drops to his knees in the shallow water between my spread thighs. The waterfall sprays across his back as he buries his face between my legs. His tongue is filthy and perfect, lapping at the mix of cold champagne and my slick arousal, sucking gently on my swollen clit before thrusting deep inside me.
“Fuck, Summer.” He groans against my pussy, voice thick and rough. “You taste so fucking good like this … champagne and sweet, wet cunt. Nothing better in the world.”
He devours me slowly, sensually, long, decadent licks mixed with the cold fizz still dripping down my body, the warm waterfall misting over us both. Every stroke of his tongue is deliberate, savoring, like he’s drinking me down. He sucks my clit into his mouth, humming with pleasure, the vibration making my thighs tremble around his head. I thread my fingers through his wet hair, hips rolling shamelessly against his mouth as another orgasm starts building fast and deep. He looks up at me through the spray, eyes dark and burning with lust, lips glistening.
“Don’t hold back,” he murmurs, voice low and filthy. “I want to taste you coming all over my tongue while the champagne is still on your skin.”
His mouth returns to me with renewed hunger. He sucks my clit between his lips, tongue flicking fast and relentlessly while two fingers push deep inside me, curling against that spot that makes my vision blur. The cold champagne still drips down my body, mixing with the warm mist of the waterfall, creating the most obscene, slippery mess between my thighs.
I can’t hold back.
My orgasm crashes into me hard and sudden. I cry out, thighs clamping around his head as I come on his tongue, hips grinding shamelessly against his face. He groans loudly into my pussy, licking and sucking every drop like he’s starving for me, drawing out the pleasure until I’m shaking and whimpering, oversensitive and breathless.
Only when I’m a trembling mess does he finally pull back. His lips and chin are glistening with champagne and my arousal. He looks up at me like a man half-drunk on the taste of us. He rises slowly, water streaming down his powerful body, cock hardand heavy between his legs. Without a word, he pulls me up and turns me around, bending me over the smooth, sun-warmed rock at the edge of the pool. He kicks my legs wider apart and pushes inside me in one deep, possessive thrust.
I moan loudly, the sound echoing with the roar of the waterfall. He fucks me like that, slow and deep at first, then harder, one hand fisted in my wet hair, the other gripping my hip as he drives into me. The angle is perfect, every thrust hitting deep, the cool water still spraying across my back while his body burns against me.
“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans, voice rough. “So wet and tight … still dripping with champagne.”
He reaches around and circles my clit again, pushing me toward another peak while he fucks me harder, the slap of wet skin mixing with the roar of the waterfall.
“Come for me again,” he demands, teeth grazing my shoulder. “Let me feel this pussy milk my cock while I fill you up.”
I shatter again, crying out as my orgasm rips through me. He follows right after with a deep, guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt and flooding me with thick, hot pulses of cum.
He stays inside me for a long time afterward, arms wrapped around my waist, lips pressing soft, lazy kisses along my shoulder and neck while the waterfall continues to rain down on us.
“Mine,” he whispers against my damp skin, almost too quiet to hear.
And this time … I don’t argue.
We lieon the blanket afterward, still damp from the waterfall, the sun warming our skin as it filters through the trees. Kairo’s head rests on my stomach, one of his arms draped lazily across my waist. I’m playing with his damp hair, twisting the dark strands between my fingers. It feels strangely normal, dangerously comfortable. After a long, quiet moment, I speak.
“Did you ever want this?” I ask softly.
“Want what?” he asks.
“Marriage. A wife. All of it.”
He’s quiet for a beat, his fingers tracing slow circles on my hip.
“I never wanted the version most people have,” he says eventually. “Big wedding, fake smiles, a woman who’d smile at me in public and hate me in private. I saw enough of that growing up.” He tilts his head slightly to look up at me. “But you … I wanted you. Not just as a wife but as mine.”
