Page 72 of The Wrong Fiancée

"Are we having a picnic?" he asked excitedly.

I reached into the bag. "A swim first to work up our appetite, and then food?"

"Sounds good."

I got into the water. "You coming in, or are you just going to stand there looking impressed?" I teased, wading a little further in, the water lapping gently at my calves.

He laughed, finally shaking off his awe. "I'm just enjoying the view, baby."

Then, it was my turn to do the same. He took all his clothes off and, without thought, naked, stepped into the water, which was waist-deep for him.

He looked fucking amazing, and Ireallywanted to get lucky.

The cool mist from the waterfall brushed our skin, making everything more alive. He reached for my hand, and I let him take it, the warmth of his fingers grounding me as we looked up at the rushing water.

"This is perfect." His voice was low, almost drowned out by the sound of the falls.

"It is," I agreed, my voice quieter now, the deliciousness of the moment sinking in. "I used to come here when I needed to clear my head. But it's been a while."

Dean squeezed my hand, his thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles. "Thank you for bringing me here, for sharing this with me."

A warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the sun or the water. "You're welcome." I gazed into his eyes, letting him see how aroused I was.

"Fuck, Elika." He yanked me close.

"You're naked."

"And hard."

I shimmied against him so I could feel him. "Yes."

He slid the straps of my swimsuit off my shoulders and looked at my naked breasts. He cupped them reverently. "You're so beautiful."

He squeezed a nipple and then leaned down to suckle. I felt like everything was floating away, disappearing—and we were the only two people left in the world. In this part of the forest, we were, and it was magical.

I sighed in pleasure as his hands pulled down my swimsuit, and then went up my thighs. He continued to nibble on my breasts as he slid a finger over my pussy. "God, you're warm."

My hips moved on instinct, wanting to feel his hands, wanting him inside me. It had been a while since I had sex—and forever since I'd been with Dean.

He raised his head and rested his forehead against mine. He grasped my hand and put it on his thick erection. "Can you feel what you do to me?"

He had one hand caressing my folds, arousing, exciting, playing.

"I thought you didn't want me," I admitted. "I…when you were withher, I?—"

"Shh." He kissed me, taking my words away, giving me back, with action, what I needed to feel, which was to be desired byhim. "There's onlyyou. Onlyyou."

I stroked him as he slid two fingers inside me. His inexorable assault was too much, and I felt my thighs begin to shake.

"Harder, baby. Please," he begged, thrusting his hips against my hand.

I wish I could taste him, but we were in the water—but there were advantages. I floated closer to him and wrapped my legs around him, wanting his penis, not his fingers.

"Baby, no." He moved his hands to my hips, holding me still.

"Why?" I whined.

He smiled and kissed me. "I'll take care of you, baby. I'll take care of you."

---