The campfire had long died, leaving only the scent of pine and raw lust. Annabeth’s grey eyes blazed as she pushed Percy onto his cabin’s cot. “No more waiting, Seaweed Brain,” she breathed, her hand already working the clasp of her jeans.

Percy’s hands were shaking as he watched her strip. The moonlight caught every curve of her beautiful, athletic body, her tits firm and tipped with pebbled nipples. He reached for her, but Annabeth danced back, letting her panties fall. “Slow,” she whispered. “I want to *feel* every inch of this night.”

He couldn’t breathe. Annabeth straddled him, grinding her bare, wet slit against the rock-hard bulge in his cargo shorts. The fabric was damp within seconds—her pussy leaving a sticky invitation. “You’re so fuckin’ ready for me,” Percy groaned, biting his lip.

“Always.” She leaned down, kissing his neck, her teeth grazing his skin before her tongue traced a trail down his chest. “I want your cock in my mouth first. I need to taste the siren you hide in those pants.”

Percy’s world became a haze of wet heat and her hungry lips. She pulled his shorts down just enough to free his dick, thick and pulsing in the campfire’s glow. She didn’t speak—just fucking swallowed him whole. Her tongue wrapped around his shaft, slick and insistent. He felt his balls tighten, a low growl escaping him.

He pulled her up, guiding her down onto his waiting length. Annabeth gasped, her walls clenching around him like a velvety vice