Then her gaze drifted downward, through the rippling water, to where his cock stood thick and straining between them, veins prominent, the head flushed dark with need.
She looked at it like it was something sacred.
Her hand moved slowly, fingers curling around his length with a feather-light touch at first, testing, exploring.
Bruce inhaled sharply, the water made everything slick, warm, effortless. Her grip tightened gradually, stroking from base to tip in one long, languid pull that sent heat surging through him.
The sensation was exquisite, velvet-soft fingers, the gentle friction amplified by the heat, the subtle buoyancy of the water letting her move without resistance.
Sophie watched his face, attuned to every flicker of reaction. When his hips shifted involuntarily and a low groan escaped him, her lips curved in a small, knowing smile.
