The open acknowledgment of their mutual desire in the library had acted like a thaw, but now the tension was even more dangerous. Claudia and Mario moved around each other with animal-like caution, knowing that the next step could either destroy their secret pact or set them free. The stage for the inevitable collision was the indoor pool—a space designed for healing that had become a laboratory of forbidden intimacy.
The hydrotherapy session began as always: functional, methodical. Claudia transferred him to the edge, feeling the familiar weight of his inert body. As he slid into the heated water, Claudia's professionalism felt like a thin membrane the water threatened to dissolve. She wore a sporty swimsuit, but the fabric clung to her skin, accentuating her curves, and Mario, seated in his specialized submerged chair, did not avert his gaze. The water acted as a mediator, making Mario's body seem both more weightless and more present at the same time.
"Let's do the assisted flotation stretch, Mario," Claudia said, trying to make her voice sound authoritative.
The exercise required her to swim slightly behind him, using her hands on his lower back and hips to maintain alignment while he focused on his breathing. Her arms were in constant contact with his torso. She felt the tense muscles of his back, the smooth wet skin. The line between duty and pleasure had completely blurred.
"Deeper, Claudia," Mario whispered, barely audible over the sound of moving water. "I feel myself resisting. I need you to make me relax."
She obeyed, her hands sliding a little lower, brushing the upper edge of paralysis. The contact was electric, and Mario, despite his immobility, arched his back slightly. His body tensed in a sudden spasm, more from reaction than pain. Claudia reacted instinctively, embracing him around the waist to keep him from sinking, their bodies fully joining underwater, chest to chest, wet skin against wet skin. The impact took their breath away.
"I love you, Mario! Don't let go!" Claudia exclaimed, the truth leaving her lips before her brain could register it. She quickly corrected herself, her tone frightened: "Don't let go of me! I'm sorry. I've got you."
Mario remained still in her arms. His face was so close that water from his hair dripped onto her forehead. His gray eyes, darkened by surprise and emotion, looked deep into hers.
"You said it. I heard it," Mario said, his voice deep and charged. "And my answer is: I cannot let go, Claudia. Not since I saw you walk through that door three years ago."
The contact lingered in the still water. It was a confession, a moment where control was surrendered. Feeling her body against his, Mario knew she was completely his. He moved a hand, slowly and deliberately, and placed it at the nape of Claudia's neck, drawing her even closer. His mouth met hers in a kiss that sealed their complicity and desire, without crossing the physical limits his paralysis imposed.
When they finally separated, Claudia was trembling—not from the cold, but from an intensity she had never known. Mario smiled, a silent triumph.
"This is our game, Claudia. You have the power over my movements. I have the power over your desire. And in this water, neither of us can escape." She had become his confidante and companion, and the waiting for the rest was the sweetest torture.
To be continued…
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