Page 19 of Our Bay Will Come

I inch down her writhing body, taking my sweet time despite her desperate bucks beneath me. As I reach the edge of her jeans, my fingers graze the sensitive skin beneath, and I look up, hungry to see the plea in her eyes. She nods, lifting her hips eagerly as I peel the denim down her trembling legs. Her panties cling to her, damp and inviting.

"Take them off, Fox." She begs. I hook my fingers in the flimsy fabric, and she lifts her hips again, desperate for more. I rip them away, leaving her glistening and exposed.

I pause, taking in her scent and the sight of her, open and ready. "Please," she whimpers, her voice thick with lust.

Diving between her quivering thighs, I take my time and let her squirm and writhe. When I finally drag my tongue through her folds, she screams my name. Her fingers clench in my hair, holding me against her as she grinds against my mouth.

I take my time, savoring her reactions, learning what makes her gasp and what makes her moan. Her legs tremble as I bring her closer to the edge, her breathing growing more ragged with each passing moment.

"Don't stop," she pants, hips moving against my mouth. "Please, don't?—"

Her words shatter into a primal scream as ecstasy overtakes her, body convulsing and arching off the bed, her fingers gripping my hair with an intense, almost exquisite pain. I guide her through the waves of pleasure, softening my touch as her tremors gradually subside.

When she finally sinks into relaxation, I slide up to lie beside her, savoring the sight of her flushed, radiant face as she struggles to catch her breath.

"That was..." she begins, then releases a breathless, sensual laugh. "Wow."

"Yeah?" My voice drips with pride, basking in the aftermath of our shared indulgence.

She turns to face me, eyes sparkling. "Don't get cocky, Carmichael. We're just getting started."

Her hand slides down my chest toward the button of my jeans, and I know with absolute certainty that this weekend will be even better than I imagined.

"Is that a challenge?" I ask, catching her wrist just as her fingers reach the button on my jeans. My pulse hammers beneath her touch.

"Maybe." A wicked smile curves her lips. "You seem like a man who rises to challenges."

"Among other things," I murmur, and she laughs—that full-throated sound that expands something in my chest.

She wrestles her hand free and continues her downward exploration, popping the button on my jeans with practiced ease. "I want to see all of you," she says, suddenly serious. "No more waiting."

I help her remove my remaining clothes, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable under her appraising gaze. But the hunger in her eyes as she takes me in banishes any insecurity.

"Come here," I growl, pulling her back up my body until we're face to face again.

"Not yet," she protests, sliding back down. "My turn."

Before I can respond, her mouth is on me, warm and insistent. I groan, fisting the sheets to keep from grabbing her hair. The sight of her—this brilliant, beautiful woman—taking me apart with such obvious enjoyment is almost too much.

"Prue," I warn after a few minutes of exquisite torture. "If you keep that up, this will be over embarrassingly fast."

She releases me with a pop, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "We can't have that," she purrs, crawling back up my body like a predator. "Not when I have plans for you."

She straddles me, her body still flushed from her earlier climax, then sinks onto me slowly, both of us groaning as our bodies join. For a moment, she stays perfectly still, adjusting to the feeling, her eyes closed and lips parted. Then she moves, setting a rhythm that has me seeing stars.

I sit up, needing to be closer, to taste her skin. She gasps as the angle changes, her nails digging into my shoulders. We move together, finding a perfect rhythm that belies the newness between us.

"Fox," she moans, her movements becoming more erratic. "Oh god, Fox."

I slip a hand between us, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves, determined to feel her come apart around me. She throws her head back, crying out as another orgasm rips through her, her inner muscles clenching around me so exquisitely that I follow her over the edge, burying my face in her neck as pleasure overwhelms me.

We collapse together onto the rumpled sheets, breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat. I expect Prue to move away, to reestablish some distance, but instead, she curls against my side, her head on my chest.

"That was..." she trails off.

"Yeah," I agree, stroking her back. "It was."

We lie in comfortable silence, the afternoon sun painting patterns across her bedroom walls. I know I should say something, but I'm afraid of breaking whatever spell has allowed her to stay in my arms.

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