Jace moved, but his hand stayed on the curve of her hip, where her pants dropped low and barely touched her thighs. Her dark, bold eyes met his, and there was a challenge in their depths.
"What now, hero?" she murmured, her voice husky, teasing, but laced with a hunger that matched his own.
He grinned, slow and wicked, his fingers tightening on her hip.
"Thought I'd see how much trouble I can really get into." His voice was rough, scraped raw by want, and before she could quip back, he slid down, lips brushing the soft plane of her stomach. Her skin was fever-hot, trembling under his mouth as he kissed lower, slow and deliberate, tasting salt and the faint sweetness of her. Her breath hitched, a sharp gasp that sent a jolt straight to his core.
"Wart," she whispered, half-warning, half-plea, her fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to make his scalp sting. He didn't stop. His hands tugged her trousers down further, baring her completely, the moonlight catching the glistening heat between her thighs. The sight made his mouth water, his own arousal throbbing painfully as he settled between her legs, one hand gripping her thigh, spreading her open gently but firmly.
"Fuck, Nia," he muttered, voice low and reverent, his breath warm against her skin. He leaned in, lips brushing the sensitive inner curve of her thigh, teasing, drawing out a shiver that made her hips lift toward him. Then his tongue flicked out, slow at first, tasting her pussy—wet, musky, intoxicating. She moaned, low and raw, her fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer. He didn't hold back, his tongue delving deeper, circling her clit with deliberate strokes, each one pulling a sharper sound from her throat.
Her thighs trembled, clamping around his head as he worked her, lips and tongue relentless, sucking lightly, then harder, finding the rhythm that made her gasps turn to whimpers.
"Gods, Wart," she panted, her voice breaking, her hips rocking against his mouth.
He could feel her unraveling, the slick heat of her coating his lips, his chin, every pulse and shudder feeding his own hunger. His hand slid up, fingers teasing her entrance, slipping inside just enough to make her curse—a sharp, "Fuck"—her back arching off the pebbles.
He groaned against her, the vibration pulling another moan from her lips, her nails scraping his scalp. She was close, he could feel it—the way her thighs tensed, her breath coming in short, desperate bursts. He doubled down, tongue flicking faster, fingers curling inside her, stroking that spot that made her cry out, loud enough to echo over the river.
But Nia wasn't one to just take. Her hands yanked at his hair, pulling him up, her eyes wild, pupils blown.
"My turn," she growled, voice thick with need. Before he could protest, she pushed him back, the pebbles cool against his spine as she straddled his hips, her hands quick and sure as they shoved his trousers down. His cock sprang free, hard and aching, and her grin was pure mischief as she looked at him, then down, her tongue darting over her lips.
"Fuck, Nia," he groaned, already half-gone as her hand wrapped around him, stroking slow and firm, her grip just tight enough to make his hips buck. She leaned down, her breath hot against his cock, teasing, her lips brushing the tip in a way that made his vision blur. Then her mouth closed around him, warm and wet, her tongue swirling in ways that made him curse under his breath, his hands fisting in the pebbles.
She was relentless, her lips sliding down his length, taking him deeper, her tongue flicking against the sensitive underside with a wicked precision that sent shudders through his core. Each stroke was a deliberate assault, hot and wet, her mouth a perfect blend of pressure and heat that made Jace's head tip back, a low, guttural groan tearing from his throat.
Her hand worked what her mouth couldn't, fingers wrapped tight, moving in a rhythmic pull that matched the pulse pounding in his ears. Her other hand splayed across his thigh, nails digging into his skin, the sharp sting grounding him even as it pushed him closer to unraveling.
The sensation was overwhelming, her tongue was swirling, lips sucking, the slick heat in her mouth unyielding, every nerve in his body alight with raw, electric need.
"Fuck, Nia, slow down," he gasped, his voice straining, cracking under the weight of pleasure. His hand reached for her shoulder, his fingers gripped her hard, desperate to anchor himself as his hips twitched involuntarily, chasing the rhythm she set.
She drew back slightly to meet his gaze, her lips gleaming with spit and moonlight, swollen and red from her efforts. Her wicked smile twisted her lips, her eyes gleaming with defiance and need.
"Not a chance," she murmured, voice husky, dripping with challenge, before diving back in. Her tongue teased the tip, slow and deliberate, then plunged down again, taking him deeper, her throat constricting around him in a way that made him curse, loud and ragged. Her hand twisted slightly, adding a new layer of friction, while her nails scraped lightly down his thigh, leaving faint red trails that burned in the cool night air. Jace's control frayed, his breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts, teetering on the edge of oblivion.