"Maybe nice wasn't the best description for you," she admitted. Certainly not if he had a hand in the wicked images flitting through her mind.
His eyes shimmered in the moonlight as he met her gaze. Then a flash of white teeth as he grinned signaled his intention even before he bent to lift her into his arms. She squealed in mock horror as he began to wade out into the water.
"I take it back! You're better than nice! You're damn near perfect!"
"Damn near?" He lowered her until she could feel the ripple of gentle waves on her ass. The water was warm, not the harsh cold she was expecting. In fact, she realized, that felt...really good.
Better than good.
She stopped struggling, but her voice was breathless as she said, "If I admit you are absolutely and utterly perfect, will you lower me...just a touch?"
He pretended to consider. "Like this?"
His arms dipped and she was a few inches lower in the water now, the undulating wetness against her bare pussy like a gentle tongue lapping at her clit. Darting in and out and around every part of her sex in a persistent erotic tease like nothing she had ever experienced before. "Oh, yes," she gasped. "Just like that."
"Admit it, then."
"I do, I do," she moaned. "Perfect. Your butt...your body...your face...everything about you...turns me on so bad—oh!"
He'd dipped her again, a little deeper this time, yet his arms were not even straining at the effort of holding her weight. She could feel his phallus pressed against her hip, her body stroking up and down the length of him as he repeatedly raised and lowered her into the water.
He was doing that on purpose. And it felt so...damn...good.
One of her arms was around his neck and she clutched at dark strands of silken hair. "Pothos," she gasped. "It's like you're...manipulating the waves...or something. It's...I—"
"The erotes command the power of Aphrodite," he said, dipping and lifting, over and over. "Our desire, like our mother before us, was born of the sea." The words made no sense to her, but the foaming crest of each small wave continued to caress her like a lover until she couldn't concentrate on anything but their touch. Now it felt like his fingers, now his tongue. The warm night air and the contrasting cool ripple of water.
Over and over.
Until she couldn't take any more.
"I can't hold on," she gasped. "I think I'm going to..." A wave once again whispered along her slit. "Oh God, Pothos, I'm going to come—"
"Yes!" His voice was fierce, triumphant, and at the sound she came apart in his arms, bucking and shrieking through her orgasm as he continued to hold her in the path of the gentle but insistent tide.
She reached up and touched his cheek in wonder. "What about you? I can feel your need, Pothos."
"My need is enormous," he admitted, and she chuckled.
"I know that," she said drily. "But—"
"Shh." He placed a brief kiss on her lips. "My needs will be sated this night. Do not worry, little one."
The scent of Pothos.
She wished even harder that her husband was here to enjoy this moment with them, and as if he sensed her thoughts, Pothos smiled.
"Now we are ready for Jake," he said, and pointed back up the beach.
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