The water-logged fabric clung stubbornly, a heavy, sucking drag against her skin, the soaked material fighting every inch like it refused to let go. Celestine untangled her thighs from my waist with deliberate effort, her powerful legs flexing and releasing their vise grip. Her feet found precarious purchase on a submerged ledge to steady herself, toes curling against the rough, algae-slick stone for balance as the water continued to surge and slap around us.
My knuckles scraped hard along her hip bones as I forced the waistband down, the cold, heavy denim scraping over her pale skin with raw friction. She let out a sharp, fractured gasp against my throat, the hot burst of air stinging my chilled neck. Her fingernails clawed into my shoulders for leverage, digging deep enough that I felt the sharp points break skin as her weight shifted, muscles coiling and uncoiling under my hands.
