Page 47 of Restoration

I attempt to pull my hand back, but he doesn’t let me. So we have a silly wrestling match in the water until I manage to goose him right under his arm where he’s most ticklish.

He jerks away, and I follow up on my victory by trying to tickle him again.

When he starts swimming, I chase him. But as soon as we get to the shallow water, he gets the advantage. He grabs me and uses his free hand to tickle the sensitive spots on my sides and the back of my knees.

I scream with laughter and try to squirm out of his hold. I finally manage and start to run, but he chases me. Catches me. Grabs me up and lowers me to the wet sand so he can hold me in place with his body.

I’m squirming now, but it’s more from excitement than resistance. He holds himself up on his arms and uses his lower body to keep mine in place.

“Asshole,” I say, unable to keep myself from smiling up at him.

“Hey, you’re the one who resorted to underhanded methods and brought tickling into the mix.” He’s got a full beard now since he has no access to a razor. The best he can do is keep the length shortish by cutting it with the old scissors we unearthed from that sailboat. His hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it, normally curling adorably at the nape of his neck but now plastered wetly to his head.

He’s very tan, and his eyes are very brown.

He’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life—and so much more than that.

“I just tickled because it was the only way I could get to you. It’s not my fault you’re bigger than me.”

His smile deepens. “It’s not my fault either.”

That response momentarily stumps me. “Yes, but you were taking advantage.”

He bends his arms at the elbows so he can kiss me. Just a light, sweet brush of his lips. “Was I really taking advantage?”

“Yes. The only way I could get away was by tickling.”

“And do you really want to get away?”

Of course I don’t. My body is responding to his the way it always does. And my heart feels like it’s pulling—stretching—trying desperately to reach him. “Now you’re taking advantage,” I whisper.

“What am I taking advantage of?”

“You’re taking advantage of your sexiness and the fact that I have trouble resisting you.”

He chuckles, low and gravelly. He leans down to kiss me again, longer this time. Then he murmurs against my mouth, “Why would you want to resist me?”

My hands have gone up of their own accord, my arms twining around his neck. “Because... because...”

“Because why?” He’s nuzzling the curve between my neck and shoulder.

“Because a woman should have some sort of backbone and not melt into a puddle of goo because a man gives her a hot look.”

This makes him laugh again. His whole body shakes as he huffs against the skin of my shoulder. He hasn’t fully stopped when he presses a line of kisses along my clavicle and then at the cleavage revealed by my wet top. He pulls off my tank completely.

“Make sure you toss it far enough up that it doesn’t get washed away,” I tell him, worried he’s going to just drop it beside us. We’re lying in the sand where the largest waves can reach.

He’s smiling as he throws my tank and then my panties far up onto the dry sand. Reassured that they’re safe, I pull Edmund down on top of me again and slide my hands lower to his ass.

He’s completely naked. He stopped wearing his boxers to swim weeks ago.

We kiss for a while. Then Edmund gets creative lower on my body, teasing my breasts and mouthing my belly and then sucking on my clit until I come with delicious abandon.

I can be as loud as I want here, and no one but him and the seabirds will hear.

Being in the water isn’t exactly conducive to my natural fluids, but I’ve had enough foreplay by now for it to be comfortable when he tests my readiness with two fingers inside me.

The whole back of my body is sandy. I smell strongly of salt and ocean water. But the same is true of Edmund, and by now we’re entirely used to it.

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