Page 95 of Charmed, I'm Sure
She did as I asked, and I slipped the garment down her legs, stuffing it into my pocket with a satisfied grin.
“I’m going to need those back,” she said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Maybe.” I shrugged, spreading her legs wider and settling between them. “But until then”—I patted my pocket—“these are mine.”
Whatever retort she’d planned evaporated into a gasp as my mouth found her again, my tongue working in tandem with my fingers. Her thighs quivered around me, and her sweet cries filled the kitchen as I brought her closer to the edge.
Sliding one hand under her shirt, I cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between my fingers. Her breathing turned shallow, her body trembling. She was a sight to behold, her body glistening beneath the recessed lighting and the golden rays of sunshine through the windows.
“Taylor—” she panted as my cock throbbed in my pants. “I’m going to… I’m gonna—” The sound of the oven timer blared through the kitchen, jarring us both. “Shit! The cinnamon rolls!” Magnolia exclaimed, wriggling in my hold.
“Don’t you fucking dare, sunshine,” I growled, my grip shifting down to her hips, anchoring her in place.
“But they’ll burn.”
“So don’t let them.” Doubling my efforts, I added a third finger and sucked hard on her clit.
Magnolia whined, nervous eyes flicking from me to the oven across the kitchen where the buzzer was still sounding. “Son of a bitch.”
With a frantic wave of her hand, the timer ceased, and the oven door dropped open with a clang.
“We good?” I asked before dragging my tongue lazily up her center, smirking as she pinched her eyes closed and whimpered.
“Those better not burn, cowboy. No amount of—motherfuckingdammit.” With one swirl of my tongue against her clit and a curl of my fingers inside her, her tirade over the baked goods fell away, and we were back to where we’d been before the interruption.
If I were someone who believed in the universe having some divine plan, I’d think it didn’t like the idea of us being together with as many times as we’d been interrupted. But I wasn’t, and the universe could, disrespectfully, fuck itself. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was letting her go now that I’d had a taste.
She moaned my name, her muscles clenching around my fingers as her release tore through her.
When her body stilled and her breathing evened, I pressed a final kiss to her inner thigh and stood, sliding my arms around her to hold her close.
“I don’t think even your cinnamon rolls can top that breakfast,” I teased, laughter bubbling up as her wide-eyed, incredulous expression morphed into a playful glare.
“Oh, you—” With a flick of her hand, she swiped a dollop of frosting from the counter and smeared it on my nose, giggling when I sputtered in mock outrage.
“Where did that come from?” I demanded, trying not to smile as she slipped the offending finger into her mouth.
“Magic,” she said with a shrug, then licked the tip of my nose.
“Why you little…” Hoping there was still some icing on my nose, I sandwiched her head between my hands and ran my nose along her cheek. My chest warmed with the sound of her unabashed laugher and squeals of joy as she wiggled in my grasp trying to escape.
“Taylor, stop!” she said between giggles. “I need to get the cinnamon rolls!”
Reluctantly, I let her go, watching as she hopped off the counter and hurried to the oven. The golden rays of sunlight streaming through the windows wrapped around her, highlighting every curve and line of her body. She was mesmerizing.
Substantial breakfast first, she’d said.
But the way her sea glass eyes sparkled with promise made one thing clear—breakfast wasn’t the only thing on the menu today.
25
Not like a ritual sacrifice, or anything.
Taylor
“Howlonghaveyouknown you’re a witch?” I asked, popping the final bite of my third—don’t judge, they’re that good—cinnamon roll into my mouth.
Magnolia shrugged, taking a long sip from her coffee. “Since I moved here. So, eight? My mom hadn’t said anything before that—not that I can remember, anyway. But Aunt Evie spilled the beans as soon as she brought us to Bellevue Manor.” Her gaze dropped as she spoke, but a soft smile tugged at her lips, the memory clearly bringing her joy. Turning to the window, coffee cup cradled in her palms, she added, “I felt it, ya know?”
