Breath Amid the Sound of Water
The Saintess swallowed her breath at those words.
Come again.
The request lingered low between the rush of water.
She lowered her head a little, then lifted it once more.
The Hero’s hand still rested in her hair.
His fingers moved more slowly now through the wet silver strands. While she steadied her breathing, that hand no longer pressed down; it only stroked the moisture away.
“I’ll… try again.”
This time she moved her hand first.
The fingers wrapped around the base swept upward, then eased their pressure on the way back down.
A soft glide.
When the slick tip passed beneath her thumb, the Hero’s breath left him in a long release.
Another stroke.
As her palm returned near the base, the Saintess let the tension melt from her lips.
When she had touched him too firmly, his breath had broken short. The moment she lightened her grip, a long, low exhale spilled from deep in his chest.
She listened to that difference.
Her lips met the wet tip again.
This time she tried not to lock her jaw. The heat against the inside of her mouth felt strange and her strength tightened for an instant, but she quickly slowed the motion of her hand.
When she cradled him gently, the Hero’s fingers stilled in her wet silver hair.
“That’s good… just like that.”
Breath mixed with the end of the words.
The Saintess’s fingertips stiffened slightly.
His hand stroked down through her hair.
“I like it… when Ria does this for me.”
The corners of her eyes trembled.
Her lips paused for a moment, still closed around the head.
The hand gripping the base rose and fell first, slowly. Her lips parted a little to follow that tip, then closed around it softly again.
The Hero’s breath settled low and deep inside his chest before flowing out long between the sounds of water.
Listening to that breath, the Saintess moved once more.
Tension kept creeping into her lips. Sometimes her hand quickened ahead of her.
Each time, she slowed her wrist.
When his breath stretched long, her lips returned to him with gentleness.
At first her hand made the path.
Her palm stroked the wet length from base to tip, and her lips opened little by little to meet it. When her hand descended, her head drew back a fraction; when her hand rose again, the hot tip slipped inside her mouth.
The more the Hero’s breathing frayed, the more heat gathered along the inner sides of her thighs.
Water streamed over her shoulders and back, yet a different slickness spread thinly between her legs. Because she knelt, the soft insides of her thighs brushed together now and then, and strength tightened in her wrists each time.
Eyes lowered, the Saintess wrapped the base again.
Wet sounds rose, soft and quick.
The slick column moved rapidly inside her palm.
A wet glide.
The slippery moisture beading at the tip spread across her palm, and her lips opened a little wider to follow the motion.
The Hero’s hand left her hair.
It brushed her wet cheek and paused briefly beside the line of her jaw.
When she lifted her eyes while still holding him in her mouth, his thumb slowly wiped the water from her cheek.
At that touch the tension left her jaw.
She moved her lips again.
As the Hero’s breath lengthened, she timed the tip of her tongue to the place where that breath ended.
The tip of her tongue lightly stroked just beneath the wet head.
His abdomen went hard.
The fingers braced against the wall pressed deep into the tiles.
The hand that had been in her hair stilled among the silver strands.
“Ria…”
Her name cracked beneath the sound of water.
The Saintess closed her eyes by reflex.
For a moment breathing came easier.
But with her eyes shut she could not see the instant strength entered the hand holding her hair.
She opened them again.
The Hero was still drawing short, broken breaths.
She withdrew the tip of her tongue. She also eased the pressure that had been gathering in her lips.
Instead she slowed her hand.
Her palm slid downward, then rose again.
Only then did his breath loosen low and free.
After hearing that breath, the Saintess moved her lips once more.
His hand passed her cheek and settled at the nape of her neck.
When those wet fingertips trailed down along her shoulder, her shoulder gave a small shiver.
The strength inside her mouth softened for a moment.
His hand stayed at her nape until the tremor quieted, then descended over her wet breast.
When his palm cupped her, her breath trembled faintly between her lips.
“Ah…”
She could not swallow the sound.
The hand cradling her breast gathered the wet flesh gently, then released it.
His thumb circled lightly around the nipple.
As the strength left her shoulders, that touch deepened a little more.
The Saintess let the tension leave the inside of her mouth and softly closed her lips around the wet tip.
In that instant the Hero’s breath loosened even lower.
“Slowly.”
His voice was low and thoroughly frayed.
“Just like that… good.”
Her fingertips trembled.
The hand gripping the base rose and fell slowly. Her lips closed gently around the tip her hand offered, then opened again.
His thumb brushed, feather-light, over the nipple that had hardened amid the water.
Her waist gave a small jolt.
Just as strength tried to return to the inside of her mouth, his other hand stroked her cheek.
The hand on her breast continued to knead the wet flesh with soft care.
“Ria.”
At the low call of her name she barely managed to lift her eyes.
His breathing was already uneven.
When her own breath caught near her throat, the fingertips on her breast slowed for a moment.
Only after a little more strength left her shoulders did his thumb pass around the nipple again.
Her locked jaw loosened a fraction.
Her lips opened a little more gently.
The hand around the base moved up and down first.
Her lips eased their pressure as if receiving the heat her palm lifted to them.
His thumb pressed the nipple with the lightest touch.
Her waist twitched again.
The body heat against the inside of her mouth pressed a little deeper.
“Ah…”
The sound blurred between her lips.
She hurriedly softened her strength and slowed the pace of her hand.
The Hero’s breath trembled low.
The hand cradling her breast gathered the wet flesh gently and released it.
When his thumb passed around it once more, her stiffened shoulders dropped.
The force that had gathered in her fingertips eased as well.
“Good…”
His voice spilled out with a short breath.
The Saintess closed her eyes for a moment with her lips still against him, then opened them slowly again.
His hand tucked the wet silver hair behind her ear.
His thumb lingered briefly on her cheek.
She steadied her breath against that touch.
Her palm kept moving up and down while her lips, still closed around the head, found their rhythm again.
His breath trembled long once more.
Following that breath, she opened her lips a little wider.
As the hot tip entered deeper into her mouth, the wetness between her thighs grew clearer still.
She gathered strength again in the hand wrapped around the base.
A long, deep stroke.
Her palm swept the wet length from bottom to top.
A wet sound.
The slick moisture beading at the tip spread beneath her thumb, and her lips parted more softly to receive the motion.
The rounded head pressed deeper inside her mouth.
The Hero’s hand stilled atop her wet hair. Strength entered the other hand braced against the wall.
She opened her lips a little more.
While the palm gripping the base stroked slowly upward, her head lowered a fraction farther. The rounded tip parted the inside of her lips and settled heavy on her tongue.
Her breath caught first.
She tried to draw air through her nose, but the weight pressing her tongue made her lose the breath near her throat for a moment.
She pulled her lips away in haste.
“Ha…”
A short breath slipped out between the rush of water.
Wet silver hair clung to her cheeks. Her lips burned hot, and her chest rose and fell in small motions.
Even while her mouth was free, her palm remained around the base, stroking slowly from bottom to top.
A soft glide.
When the wet tip passed beneath her thumb, the Hero’s breath trembled low.
Inside her palm the hardness near the root pulsed briefly. She slowed the motion of her wrist to match that tremor.
Then the hand that had been cradling her breast rose slowly.
His thumb wiped her wet cheek and tucked the hair stuck beside her ear out of the way.
“Are you all right?”
His voice was low, his breathing still uneven.
Instead of answering, the Saintess added strength to the hand around the base.
Remembering the depth that had stolen her breath a moment ago, she moved her hand first this time, slowly.
A gentle stroke.
Her palm slid down, then swept upward again.
“Yes… my breath just…”
The words did not finish.
His fingers passed slowly through her wet silver hair. As if smoothing tangled strands, very slowly.
Her trembling shoulders dropped. Only then did breath return to her.
She pushed the hand around the base slowly upward and lowered her head once more.
This time she drew air through her nose first.
Before opening her lips, her palm stroked the base upward once more.
A long glide.
The Hero’s breath trembled low again.
Only after hearing that sound did she part her lips.
Her mouth carefully took in the tip of the hot, hard length.
At first her head moved only the smallest amount. Her lips drew back less than a finger’s width from the rounded head, then descended forward again.
A soft, wet sound.
His breath loosened low.
After hearing it, she moved her palm from the base upward once more.
When her lips retreated a little, her palm stroked from base to upper shaft. When her head descended again, the rounded tip pressed deeper onto her tongue.
This time her head moved more clearly forward and back.
As her lips drew away, the upper part of the shaft passed the inside of her mouth; as she came forward again, the thick ridge beneath the head pressed down on her tongue.
“I like it… when you come back to me like this.”