Page 46 of Hunting Gianna

She swallows. “I’m perfect.”

I let her go.

She watches as I peel off my boxers. I stand there, naked and hard, and her eyes widen just a little. I don’t comment, just take her hand and pull her toward the water.

The pool is black and glassy. The roar of the falls swallows every sound. I wade in first, pulling her behind me. The cold is fucking brutal, but I don’t react. She hisses through her teeth, then plunges in up to her shoulders, arms crossed over her chest.

“Jesus Christ,” she gasps. “You’re insane.”

I swim a few strokes out, then turn back, treading water. “Come on. It’s better out here.”

She paddles to me, her hair streaming behind her in dark ropes. I reach for her, slide my hands around her waist, and pull her in so close I can feel the shiver running through her spine.

We float like that, bobbing in the current, the spray from the falls making her skin slick and cold. Her nipples are hard as glass, and she tries to cover them, but I won’t let her. I grab her hands, pin them behind her back, force her chest up against mine.

She glares at me, but I can see the heat under the ice. She wants this. She just doesn’t want to admit it.

I lean in, mouth barely touching her ear. “No one can hear us here,” I say. “You can scream as loud as you want.”

She laughs, breathless. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I squeeze her wrists, hard enough to hurt. “I would. But I’d rather you tell me what you want.”

She goes quiet, thinking.

“I want you to let me go,” she says.

I don’t react. “Lie.”

She smiles, slow and wicked. “I want you to fuck me in the water.”

“Better.”

I kiss her, hard, biting her lip until she gasps. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I feel her slick and hot even through the chill. I slide inside her in one stroke, and she moans, head falling back.

The cold vanishes. All that’s left is her, tight and perfect around me, her body arching and straining with every thrust. The water slaps against us, the noise of it lost in the thunder of the falls.

She bites my shoulder, leaving a mark, and I fuck her harder for it. She comes once, then again, nails digging into my back. I don’t stop until she’s shaking, until her voice goes raw and hoarse.

When I finish, I bury my face in her neck, breathing her in.

For a long time, we just float. Her arms are around me, her head on my shoulder. It’s almost peaceful.

I hate it.

I want to ruin it, to drag us both back down into the violence that feels more real than this.

But I don’t. There’s growth in fear and Gianna makes me want to grow through it instead of caving because it’s who I’ve always been.

Instead, I hold her there, letting the water carry us, letting the sound of the falls drown out the voice in my head that tells me to never let her go.

She pulls back, searching my face. Her eyes are clear, and for once, she doesn’t look away.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

The question is so fucking stupid I almost laugh.

“No,” I say. “But I will be. As long as you don’t run ever again. Well… unless it’s so I can find you and fuck you.”

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