August licked that spot where her mark had pearlized on his tan skin, and her hips started swirling against him, causing him to almost swallow his tongue with the sensation it created.
She urged his mouth to lower over her neck as she rode him, circling the head of his cock with the sensitive rim of her entrance and finding her own rhythm, her own way toward that brilliant center of ecstatic being that promised to explode when she finally reached it.
"Oh Goddess, Graeme," she gasped, throwing her head back as she held onto his neck.
Graeme watched, transfixed with his mate and her movements, the flaming red of her skin where the water hit it, the perfect curve of her breasts that beckoned him with each little bounce in his direction, the graceful line of her neck as she arched away. He was holding under her ass to give her leverage, and he cursed inwardly at not being able to grab her breasts and her neck and golden hair—she was teasing him being this exposed and sexy as hell.
