Celine POV
Our tails entwine, the smooth glide of scales against scales sparking sensations that make my breath hitch. Jonathan’s webbed fingers trace the line of my jaw, sliding down my neck with an aching slowness, the delicate caress making my gills flutter involuntarily. His touch moves across my shoulders, igniting every nerve as his fingertips trail the boundary between skin and scale.
The taste of him overwhelms me—salty, sweet, and utterly intoxicating. My senses feel heightened, every movement, every press of his lips against mine amplified by the weightless intimacy of the water.
I let my hands wander, sliding down his sculpted chest, marveling at the firmness of his torso beneath my fingertips. When my fingers reach the seamless transition of his flesh into shimmering, irides
