I continued my sensual display by bending backward, slipping my head underwater, and twisted until the pool swallowed all of me. A few long strokes allowed me to move through the water without going to the surface for a breath. It was when I felt the steps against my hands that I stopped and breached the water’s edge, inhaling deep.
I glanced halfway over my shoulder and brushed a hand down my naked arm—my skin hyperaware of his heated gaze and sensitive to the feel of the water.
“Look at me, Mila.” His words were liquid seduction, the tenor echoing between my thighs.
The water rippled around me as I turned, and I sucked in a breath when I saw him, his hand slipped inside his pants. The thought of him touching himself intensified the need that throbbed inside my sex.
“Lean back against those steps,” he ordered with a baritone voice that reverberated against my spine, my entire body set aflame with his simple yet demanding words. “Lean back and spread those legs.”
The water swished as I did as he demanded, leaning back against the hard steps, spreading my weightless legs in the water as I pushed my hips up to the surface.
“Good. Now show me how you touch yourself, how you make yourself come when you’re alone.”
The air around us was laden with red-hot sexual tension that had me brazenly reach down to touch myself, to brush my fingertips along my sensitive folds while I watched Saint’s hand move beneath his pants. I bit my lip, desire blooming in my core as I caught glimpses of the head of his cock with every stroke of his hand along his length.
My pussy was already swollen and needy, my hips riding as my own touch brought me closer to the edge, teetering at the apex of release.
“Don’t come, Mila.” His voice boomed through the room, slamming against the concrete pillars. “Do not come. I am the only one who has the privilege of allowing you pleasure.”
“Saint,” I moaned and leaned my head back, my hair floating in the water. “I can’t stop.”
“You don’t have to. Just don’t come. It’s easy.”
“How the fuck…” A sudden tremor wracked through my body as I pressed the pad of my finger against my clit. My back arched, water splashing against the side of my face and into my ears. It was pure sexual instinct as I widened my legs, spreading them farther apart and feeling the velvet water caress every inch of my slit.
“Look at me, Mila. Look at me!” His voice was a thundering clap of demand, and I lifted my head to look at him across from me. The length of his cock was squeezed in his palm, his pants lowered so I could see all of him. Every stroke of his hand had me moving my fingers faster, pressing harder against the sensitive bud that would ultimately push me over the edge.
“Do you like watching me? Do you like seeing me fuck my palm?”
I moaned, pressure building up my spine, threatening to erupt between my legs.
“Answer me!”
“Yes,” I cried out. “Yes, I do.”
“Then watch me come. Watch me squirt my seed everywhere but inside you. And while you finger yourself, know that the next time I come, it will be to cream that sweet pussy of yours.”
“Jesus, Saint.” I slipped a finger inside me, reaching as deep as I could, my legs trembling with looming pleasure. “I’m going to come.”
“Come, and I swear to God I will make you regret it. I will fuck you within an inch of your life without letting you come once.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can. Because you need to be taught a lesson that defiance always comes with a price. No matter how big or how small. And this is your penance, Mila. Denying yourself the orgasm your body is demanding right now.”
“Please.”
“Tell me,” his voice was low, a rumbling echo of the lust that clawed at my core, “tell me to come. Tell me how you want me to come all over my expensive fucking suit.”
His strokes became faster. Vigorous. Desperate. “Tell me, Mila!”
“I want you to come.” I clenched my thighs, my orgasm threatening to erupt. “I want to see you come.”
“Fuck,” he cursed and craned his neck as he leaned his head back, hips flexing, and hand pumping until white ribbons escaped his cock and onto his white dress shirt.
“God.” I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to fucking come, but his warning stopped me from tipping over. It went against everything my body wanted, against my own fucking human nature to find pleasure. Denying me an orgasm had my every muscle pulled taut and aching for release.
“That’s a good girl.”