Dravic kissed my temple once—quiet, almost tender. His lips lingered there for a second, warm against my cooling skin, before he pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were still dark, pupils blown wide in the dim steam-lit glow, but the playful edge had softened into something steadier, more focused. He didn't speak right away. He just watched me—chest rising and falling slow, matching the rhythm of the water lapping at our waists.
I was still slumped against the rock, legs trembling under the surface, arms draped weakly over his shoulders. Inside me he was still buried deep, thick and hot, every tiny shift of his hips sending fresh sparks of ache through my core. The stretch hadn't eased at all; if anything, the slow grind earlier had left me more swollen, more sensitive. My walls fluttered weakly around him—helpless little spasms that made me bite my lip to keep from whimpering again.
He must have felt it. His hand on my waist tightened—just a fraction—then slid down to cup the back of my thigh. The other arm hooked under my other knee in one smooth motion.
Before I could process it, he lifted me.
Water sluiced off our bodies in warm sheets. My legs came up instinctively, wrapping around his waist as he carried me away from the rock. The movement dragged him even deeper inside me—slow, inexorable slide that made my head fall back on a sharp gasp.
"Ngh—!"
The new angle shifted everything. Gravity pulled me down onto him fully, the head pressing hard against that deep, sore spot. My arms tightened around his neck on reflex; nails dug into the back of his shoulders.
"Dravic—wait—"
He didn't stop walking. Just carried me through the shallows toward the center of the spring where the water was deeper, warmer, almost buoyant. Each step rocked him inside me—small, rolling thrusts I couldn't escape. Water splashed softly around us, muffling the wet sounds of our bodies moving together.
"Please," I breathed against his neck, voice cracking. "Let me rest… it still hurts…"
He slowed—didn't stop, but slowed. One hand slid up my back, cradling the nape of my neck so he could look at me properly.
"It's okay," he said, voice low and calm, almost soothing. "Calm down. We're just getting started, okay?"
The words should have terrified me. Instead they settled somewhere deep in my chest—warm, heavy, inevitable. I whimpered—small, broken sound—and buried my face in the crook of his shoulder. His skin smelled like minerals and sweat and him.
He kept walking until the water reached just below his chest. There he stopped. Held me there, suspended in the heat, my legs locked around his waist, his cock still buried to the hilt inside me. No thrusting yet. Just… holding. Letting me feel the full weight of him, the stretch, the throb.
My breathing was ragged—short, shaky inhales through my nose. Every heartbeat pulsed around him; I could feel his answering throb in reply. My walls kept clenching weakly—trying to adjust, failing, only making the burn sharper.
He kissed my temple again—slow, lingering. Then my cheek. Then the corner of my mouth.
"Breathe with me," he murmured. "In… out…"
I tried. Matched his slow rhythm. In through my nose—out through trembling lips. The steam made every breath feel thick, heavy.
His hand on my back moved in slow circles—wide, soothing strokes that followed the curve of my spine. The other stayed under my thigh, supporting my weight so I didn't have to tense to stay up. Water buoyed us both; I felt almost weightless except for the thick, unrelenting fullness inside me.
Minutes passed like that—him holding me, me clinging to him, the ache constant but no longer spiking. My whimpers quieted to shaky exhales. Tears dried on my cheeks, leaving salty tracks.
When my breathing finally steadied, he kissed me—slow, deep. Tongue sliding in lazy, tasting every small sound I made. I kissed back—weakly, hesitantly—but I kissed back.
He groaned low into my mouth—quiet, rough sound that vibrated through his chest into mine.
Then he started moving.
Not fast. Not hard. Just slow, rolling rocks of his hips—tiny circles at first, grinding deep without pulling out far. Each circle dragged the head along that sore spot inside me, slow friction that made my thighs tremble around his waist.
"Hn… haa…"
I broke the kiss on a shaky gasp. My forehead fell to his shoulder again; I couldn't hold it up anymore. My arms tightened around his neck—fingers threading into wet hair at the nape.
He kissed my neck—open-mouthed, tongue tracing the pulse point—then bit lightly. Teeth grazed skin; I whimpered, body clenching hard around him.
"Fuck," he breathed against my throat. "Do that again."
I couldn't help it. Every grind made me clench—weak, involuntary spasms that gripped him tighter. He groaned—deeper this time—and rocked a little harder. Still slow. Still controlled. But deeper.
Water splashed softly with each roll—warm waves rippling outward. The sound mixed with my small, helpless noises—soft "ah"s and whimpers every time he bottomed out.
His mouth moved lower—kissing across my collarbone, then down to my chest. Tongue flicked over one nipple—slow circle—then he sucked it into his mouth. Firm pull. Teeth grazed the edge.
"Ah—!"
My back arched—hips jerking forward on instinct. The motion drove him even deeper; I cried out—sharp, broken sound.
He switched to the other nipple—licking slow, then sucking harder. His hand on my thigh squeezed—fingers digging in just enough to hold me steady while he kept rocking.
I was shaking now—whole body trembling in his arms. The ache had blurred into something heavier—deep, throbbing pressure that built with every slow grind. My dick—still half-hard from earlier—rubbed against his stomach with each roll, slick with water and pre. The friction was too much and not enough all at once.
"Dravic… ngh… I can't—"
He lifted his head from my chest. Kissed me again—messy, desperate now. Tongue deep, swallowing every whimper. His hips never stopped—slow, rolling thrusts that kept me full, kept the pressure building.
One hand found mine again—fingers lacing tight under the water. He squeezed hard—grounding, possessive. The other slid up my back, cradling my neck so he could kiss me deeper.
I moaned into his mouth—long, shaky sound I couldn't hold back. Not pleasure exactly. Just… too much. Too full. Too deep. Too everything.
He broke the kiss—forehead pressed to mine, breathing ragged.
"You're close again," he rasped. Not a question.
I nodded—tears slipping again. "Yeah… hurts… but—"
He cut me off with another deep kiss. Hips rocked harder now—still slow, but with more force. Each thrust dragged a wet, obscene shlick from between us. My walls fluttered wildly—clenching, releasing, clenching again.
His mouth moved to my neck—licking, biting, sucking hard enough to leave marks. I whimpered louder—voice cracking on every breath.
"Dravic—please—"
"Come for me," he murmured against my skin. "Let go."
The command—quiet, rough—tipped me over.
I came with a trembling cry—sharp, broken sound that echoed off the rocks. Weak pulses spilled between us; my walls clamped down hard around him.
"Nghhh… haaah… ah—Dravic—!"
He groaned—low, guttural—hips stuttering once, twice. Then he pressed deep one last time—shuddering groan as he came inside me. Warm floods that made me twitch and whimper again—oversensitive, raw, full.
He held me there—still buried, still rocking gently through the aftershocks. Mouth on my neck—kissing soft now, soothing the marks he'd left. Hand still holding mine—fingers laced tight.
We stayed like that—bodies locked together, breathing hard, water lapping quiet around us. My legs stayed wrapped around his waist; I didn't have the strength to lower them. My head rested on his shoulder—small, shaky exhales against his skin.