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She thinks he may be right. Jill breathes out a sound that's half laugh and half moan, pushing back his hair from his forehead.

"You could touch me while in the pool, I'm sure."

And have some privacy while in plain sight.

He comes up for proper air for a moment, cheek pressed against her thigh, beard wet. He meets her eyes, and then deliberately takes a hand from the bench and puts it on her, dragging his palm over her belly.

An outlaw, truly. Jill watches him with an amused smile and leans down to kiss him, enjoying the taste of herself on his mouth. Enjoying that others are watching, even if only occasionally.

"To the pool with you, for your misbehavior," Jill says solemnly, taking his hand.

He kisses her, long and slow, but a stubborn little streak crosses his face when she takes his hand. Amused:

"Have I not been good in many other ways?"

Jill pauses, tipping her head to the side.

"Other ways?" Doubt. The twitch at the corner of her mouth gives away any attempt to look truly lost in thought. "Please, refresh my memory."

Clive rises on his knees a little, his other hand gliding up her thigh and right to her cunt. He cups her with a subtle enthusiasm, two fingers slipping between her wet lips to press against her entrance.

"Who has brought you so close to release, if not me?"

She can't resist tilting her hips forward, the need for him to slip his fingers into her a physical ache.

"Oh, you meant today alone? Apologies."

"If you want me to count other days..."

He pushes a fingertip in, just to the first knuckle, slow.

"You did take me to dinner..."

She trails off as he aims to make her lose her mind. Jill gives him a look. He knows what he's doing, moving that slowly when her hips strain for more.

He eases out and then back in again, deeper, but still slow.

"Maybe it wasn't a fine enough dinner."

It was excellent, with all that free bread. Still, Jill can manage to think ahead, even with him slowly fingering her.

"Then you should take me to dinner again. A finer place."

“As soon as possible,” he says, nuzzling the side of her face with his. A bit deeper still. “Tomorrow, perhaps?”

"Tomorrow," she agrees, pressing a kiss to his cheek while not-so-subtly trying to fuck herself on his fingers. "Perhaps you'll make love to me after."

He gives her a little more, speeding up as he works her open.

“In your bed? Or somewhere else…”

Jill sighs with pleasure. His touch always brings relief.

"I think you'd like somewhere else. Somewhere new."

His fingers slide into her completely, as deep as they’ll go.

“Where, then? Where will I take you?”

Is she supposed to be able to hold a conversation when he fills her like that? Jill can only bask in how right it feels, how close he is, and how she wishes to see his face every day for the rest of her life. He's everything.

"Anywhere," she finally manages, breathing heavy. "Behind a closed door or where people can see. As long as I have you, I don't care."

He presses a brief kiss to her temple, and keeps working her, harder still.

"Anywhere we can get up to trouble together," he says. "Like proper outlaws."

"Like proper outlaws," she repeats, amused and breathless and looking at him lovingly. "Taking one another before so many eyes. I would want them all to see how good you are to me."

He groans, low and quiet and just off his breath, and he puts his thumb against her clit.

"I will. I'll do anything for you."

Will he? She wonders.

"Take me here and now, then. Don't make me wait," she says, voice so close to a whine. His fingers are divine, but nothing compares to having him inside her.

She's sure it's still the same even with others around. Really, the Hideaway had walls that were questionable at best.

"Yes, my lady," he promises.

He's been hard for some time now, and permission has him realizing just how much he wants it. He moves up off one knee and puts her thighs together and presses them back against her ribs. He wants in, and he wants to go deep, and he knows she wants it, and he'll give it to her as quick as ordered: he takes his cock in his fist, pumps himself once and then twice, and guides himself to her entrance and pushes right in and past the initial squeeze.

Whenever he maneuvers her with confidence and intent, she falls in love with him a little more. And when he takes what he wants, which so often aligns with what she wants, she thinks maybe she should marry him.

"Clive," she moans, biting back any nonsense that might want to fall from her lips, "How do you manage to feel so good, each and every time?"

Not a question she expects an answer to as she reaches out to touch whatever part of him she can reach, but at least now she can say she knows: they were made for one another, because no one else makes her melt quite like he does.

"I'll know something's wrong when it no longer is," he says, a little bit of humour and a whole lot pleased. He sets to it, returning to the aggressive pace his fingers had built up to, leaning the bulk of his weight into her, against the backs of her thighs, leaning in so he looms over her. He breathes hard. "Oh, Jill... you're so wet..."

She wonders if people are still watching. She can't look without it being obvious, and she worries that might distract them both. But how could they not watch? She can only imagine how they look, Clive folding her with ease, muscle hard at work as he fucks her.

"A smile from you could have done it," she replies, words short, but tone low and wanting. "You're perfect."

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