A heavy swell rolled in from the black expanse, slamming into us like the fist of some ancient, indifferent god. The dark water heaved us skyward, weightless for one treacherous heartbeat, then plunged us into a foaming trough that swallowed us to the chest.
Celestine gasped—sharp, breathless—as icy silver water surged against her chin and spilled down the elegant column of her throat in rushing rivulets. Instinct seized her completely. Her full weight crashed into me without warning, legs clamping vise-tight around my waist, the powerful muscles in her thighs flexing hard as they locked, heels digging into the small of my back.
Her face buried into the crook of my neck, wet strands of her hair slapping against my jaw and cheek like cold whips. Her breasts flattened heavily against my chest, the hardened points of her nipples pressing through the soaked fabric like insistent pebbles, while the thin barrier of her underwear scraped roughly along the rigid, aching length of my cock.
