A single drop of sweat dribbles down his lightly haired chest. He stops to cup a handful of river water, bringing it to his plump lips. His throat bobs as the fluid travels down. I cock my head to one side, eyes scanning over his milky flesh. There’s a glisten to his shoulders, his stomach, his neck. The pouch of his belly contracts with heaving breaths. I run my fingertips along his bicep and he follows my touch. His hand comes up to wrap around mine and I press a dry kiss to the inside of his wrist. The salt on his skin excites me. I lick up his forearm, tasting and devouring. He wraps his free arm around my waist, dragging me onto his lap. His lips find the juncture of my neck and shoulder, and his teeth follow soon after. There’s an aching heat growing in my belly. Recognizable. Primal. I hardly feel the pebbles digging into my knees as I grant him access to my mouth. His tongue maps my teeth, soft pallette, inner cheeks, and finally my own. His ragged breathing morphs to wheezing as he grabs handfuls of my hair. I use my nails to draw raised, puffy scratches across his back. He grows limp, head falling against my chest. I sigh, adrenaline still pulsing in my blood, and disentangle myself from his lifeless, yet still beautiful, form.