It's .. not horrible. Pleasant, if she had to pick a word. He's clearly exerting quite a bit of care, and there are a few times that he bottoms out in her in a way that would have her flinching if she didn't have ironclad self control. The pace he's chosen is nice, though not exhilarating; on it's own, it wouldn't be enough to get her off anyway. Instead she focuses on his fingers massaging her thighs and hips, the warm sensation from the water, his teeth worrying at the joint of her shoulder and her neck. She sighs along with his thrusts, her hand gripping his hip.

Something is wrong. He's not come yet, and from how tight his voice was, he ought to be undone just by this alone. Pausing, she turns her head to one side to eye him over one shoulder —

"Please be joking," she hisses, her voice wavering, not entirely unaffected by his exertions. Her breath hitches as he hits a particularly deep spot; it's a bit painful, but mixed with a pleasure that is much more interesting to her. "You can't.. without me?"

A part of her wants to be cruel — to tell him to use his imagination or, better yet, his hand. But they're already this far and honestly? Arousal is blooming in the pit of her stomach each time his hips slap her ass. With her free hand, she reaches for one of his again, guiding it back between her legs. It takes a bit of trial and error, but she finds a movement half between a rub and a stroke that feels tolerable.

"Like that — faster."