Page 110 of Tasty Cherry

I’m lost. I reach out to hold onto the counter as he works his way deeper.

My breathing is ragged. This will never, ever get old.

He ever so gently slides his finger along my thigh, then presses against another part of me, one he’s never touched.

At first I tense, then realize, this is good. Really good. I relax as he doesn’t seem intent on going in, but massaging where he is.

The two parts of me getting attention at the same time wind me more tightly than I’ve ever been before. I flatten against the wall, my one leg barely holding me.

I’m not sure how to handle what I’m feeling with two points of pleasure. The intensity of him working both places makes me gasp for air.

Sebastian works faster, his hair tickling my belly. He sucks hard, and that’s it, everything lets go. I cry out, my head rolling back and forth against the wall. It’s bright and wild and even the sun couldn’t compete with the shine in me as the orgasm flashes through my body.

He holds onto me as I come down, keeping me steady. Then he swoops me into his arms. “Water’s ready.”

He carries me to the tub, which is two-thirds full. He sets me down on the side, letting my feet dangle into the water. It’s warm and feels so good.

I’m about to slip down when he says, “Let me get your hair.”

Right. Wet hair might be a giveaway when I go back to Trey and the crew.

He takes the clip that is holding back the front of my hair, then gathers all of it in his hands. He twists it until I feel it tightening against my head. Then the clip goes back in.

He lets go, and I expect it all to fall down, but it stays.

I lift my hands to my head. “How did you learn to do that?”

“Baby sister. Mom with a heavy workload.”

“You’re full of surprises.”

He leans close to my ear. “Wait until I fuck you underwater.”

My heart hammers. How can anything be this amazing, this hot?

How is this happening to me?

He slides into the hot tub and shuts off the water. It reaches his thighs when he’s standing, but he drops down, his bottom half becoming a wavering blur.

Above the water he’s all muscle, biceps and chest, a tattoo on his left arm. All places I’ve come to know and love about him.

“Come here,” he says, grasping my hips and sliding me down into the water with a light splash.

Sebastian kisses me, his hands all over my body as he leads me across the heart-shaped hot tub to the point, where there is a bench.

He turns us around and he sits on it, bringing me down to his lap. He kisses me again, his hands caressing my breasts, my waist, and sliding my thighs apart.

Then he lifts me, buoyed by the water, and when I come down again, he slides into me.

The water sloshes as I move into position, then rocks gently against our bodies as he works me up and down.

It’s soothing and relaxing, a wholly different experience than any of our other encounters.

Sebastian can be fierce and fast, or slow and easy. But this is comforting and rhythmic. I drape my wet arms on his shoulders, closing my eyes and letting the water do the work.

For a while, I float over him, feeling him enter and glide. Then he begins to speed up, his arms flexing.

This sets off something in me, because that need for him gathers, tightening and tensing.

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