Dravic kept me pressed against his chest for another long minute, one hand splayed low on my back, fingers spread wide enough that I could feel the heat of his palm right above the curve of my ass. The other hand moved lazily up and down the line of my spine—slow, deliberate strokes that made my skin prickle even in the thick warmth of the steam. His heartbeat thudded steady under my ear, strong and even, but there was a restless edge to the way he held me: the slight tightening of his arm every few seconds, the way his hips shifted just enough to remind me he was still hard, still pressed thick and hot against the small of my back. He was already thinking ahead. I could feel it in the way his breath hitched once—quiet, almost impatient.
I swallowed. The soreness inside me hadn't dulled at all. Every tiny clench sent a fresh throb through my core—deep, dull, insistent. My legs still trembled faintly under the water, thighs brushing his. I didn't know if I could take more, but my body was already reacting anyway—small, involuntary twitches, a faint heat pooling low despite the ache.
He must have felt it too. His hand on my back slid lower, cupping one cheek, squeezing once—not hard, just enough to make me gasp softly. Then he turned me in his arms—slow, controlled—so my back pressed to the warm rock again. The stone was almost too hot against my spine, a sharp contrast to the silky water still lapping at my waist. He lifted my leg with one hand hooked under my knee, spreading me open without rush, but without hesitation either. Water rippled outward in lazy circles.
His eyes locked on mine—dark, steady, that small smile still there, low and private.
"Ready?" he asked, voice rougher now, quieter than before.
I shook my head once—small, honest. "It's gonna hurt again…"
He didn't argue. Just leaned in and kissed me—slow, deep, tongue sliding in to taste me like he was memorizing it. When he pulled back, his lips brushed my jaw, then down the side of my neck. He licked a slow, wet stripe up the tendon there—hot breath making me shiver—then bit lightly, teeth grazing just enough to sting without breaking skin.
"Hn—"
The small sound slipped out before I could stop it. He hummed against my skin—pleased—and sucked the spot he'd bitten, tongue soothing right after.
His free hand found mine under the water. Fingers laced through mine—tight, grounding. He squeezed once, then guided my hand up to rest on his shoulder so I could hold on.
Then he shifted—lined himself up. The blunt head pressed against me—hot, slick from the spring and everything else. He didn't push right away. Just rocked forward in tiny nudges, letting the pressure build slow.
The stretch started immediately—sharp burn at the rim, deep ache blooming inward. I tensed hard.
"Ngh—Dravic—"
"Breathe," he murmured against my neck. He kissed the pulse point there—open-mouthed, tongue flicking out—then pushed.
The head slipped past the rim with a soft, wet squelch. The burn flared bright—stinging, stretching. My fingers dug into his shoulder; the other hand gripped his tighter.
"Ah—!"
He stopped—halfway in. Didn't pull back. Just held there, letting me feel the thick intrusion, the way my walls fluttered helplessly around him. His lips moved to my collarbone—kissing, licking slow circles—then lower. He found one nipple, tongue swirling once, then sucked it into his mouth—firm pull that made my back arch off the rock.
"Haa—!"
The sensation shot straight down—sharp contrast to the deep burn inside. My hips jerked forward without meaning to—small, helpless twitch.
He groaned low against my chest—vibration traveling through me. Then he pushed again—slow, steady—sinking another inch. Wet shlick as he slid deeper.
My breathing turned ragged—short gasps, small whimpers every time he advanced.
"Ngh… haa… slow—"
"I am," he said quietly. He kissed across my chest to the other nipple—licked once, then sucked harder this time, teeth grazing the edge. My whole body clenched around him in response—sharp spasm that made him groan again, deeper.
"Fuck… you're tight."
He rocked forward—another inch, then another—until he was buried all the way. Hips flush against me. Full. Too full. The pressure was everywhere—deep throb against that sore spot, stinging stretch at the rim, faint pulse of his heartbeat I could feel inside me.
I whimpered—long, shaky sound. Tears slipped down my cheeks again, warm against the steam.
He lifted his head from my chest. Kissed me—deep, slow, swallowing the small sounds I couldn't hold back. His tongue moved lazy against mine while he stayed perfectly still inside me, letting me adjust.
When he finally pulled back from the kiss, his forehead rested against mine. Breathing heavy.
"Still okay?"
I nodded—small, trembling. "Yeah… just—really full…"
He hummed—low, satisfied. Then he started moving—slow, shallow rocks at first. Barely pulling out, just grinding deep, dragging the head along that sensitive place over and over.
Each roll made a soft, wet shlick… shlick… under the water. My whimpers came with every grind—soft, raw, helpless.
"Hn… ah… Dravic…"
He kissed my neck again—licking the sweat and steam from my skin, then biting lightly at the same spot he'd marked earlier. His hand squeezed mine—fingers laced tight. The other slid up to cup the back of my neck, holding me steady while he kept the slow rhythm.
He groaned against my throat—quiet, rough. "You feel so good… still gripping me like that…"
I couldn't answer. Just clung tighter—nails digging into his shoulder, hand squeezing his. The ache stayed constant—deep, throbbing—but the heat of his mouth on my neck, the slow grind inside, the way he held my hand—it all layered together until I couldn't think past it.
He sped up just a fraction—longer glides now, pulling out halfway before sliding back in deep. Each thrust made me gasp—small, choked sounds.
"Ah—hn—!"
He kissed me again—messy, open-mouthed—swallowing every noise. His tongue moved slow against mine while his hips rolled steady, deep.
When the pressure finally broke—slow, heavy—I came with a trembling whimper, spilling between us in weak pulses.
"Nghhh… haaah… ah—"
He groaned low—hips pressing flush one last time. Then he followed—deep shudder, warm floods inside me that made me twitch and whimper again, oversensitive and raw.
He stayed buried—arms tight around me, mouth on my neck, kissing soft now. Hand still holding mine.
We stayed like that—breathing hard, water lapping gentle, mist thick around us.
The ache throbbed stronger than ever—deep, persistent—but his hold never loosened.
I rested my forehead against his shoulder, small shaky breaths against his skin.