Adrian caught me around the waist as a larger wave hit, pulling me back against his hard chest. We were dripping wet. My white shirt was translucent now, clinging to every curve, and his trousers were soaked through, molding to his muscular thighs. The playfulness in the air snapped. The laughter died, replaced by a heavy, magnetic tension that made the very air feel thick. Adrian’s hands didn't let go. They slid up my back, his palms hot even through the wet fabric. "Lena," he groaned, his voice dropping an octave. He turned me around in his arms. His eyes were dark, hungry, and focused entirely on my mouth. "I’ve been starving for you. Every second you were away from me... every second I thought I’d lost you... I was dying." "I'm right here, Adrian," I breathed, my hands sliding up his chest to find the pulse at the base of his throat. It was racing. He didn't wait. He crushed his lips to mine, a desperate, salty kiss that tasted of the ocean and pure, unadulterated need.
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