“Can you…” Prue says, grasping the fabric of my T-shirt at my shoulders. “Can I take this off?” She tightens her grip of my shirt, pulling to no avail.
I was taught not to speak with my mouth full, so I grunt instead, moving to bite the underside of her breast before bringing my attention back to her nipple. I tug it between my teeth as I stare up at her, watching her eyes roll back as she shudders out a long, quaking breath.
I’m oh so pleased to learn that my Killer likes her tits being played with.
“Milo,” she whines. I tilt my hips against her in response, rewarding us both. “I want…”
“What do you want?” I ask, removing the other strap and pulling both of her tits free from their evil, lacy cage. “I’ll give it to you.”
“Your shirt off, my clothes off, all of it.”
I lift off of her and remove my shirt with one hand between my shoulder blades. The fastest way I know, so I can return to my mouth on her skin. Her hands arenotshy as they skate against my chest, shoulders, and every inch of bare skin she can reach.
I kiss down her ribs as my hands make quick work of finding the skirt’s zipper on her hip. I fight with it, circling my tongue around a red strawberry birthmark on her belly.
“The zipper’s not…” I say, then grunt. “It’s stuck.”
“Just rip it,” Prue says, sitting up to grab hold of my hair, using it as a leash to pull my mouth back to her tits.
“Fuck, Killer, are you sure?” I ask before pulling the soft skin next to her nipple into my mouth, intending to leave a mark to match the one she was born with. “I like this one,” I say, gripping the fabric at her hip in my fist.
“Okay, no, just—” She sits up, then, rudely, stands up next to the bed. The sight of her is destabilizing. All five-foot-nothing ofher half naked and disheveled with her bra around her rib cage and my teeth marks all over her skin. Pink and flushed in all the right places and fighting with the skirt’s zipper as her hair cascades over her shoulder and flirts with the skin of the back I’ve yet to meet with my lips.
Fuck. I want to eat her alive.
“Please hurry,” I say, making no effort to hide my desperation.
She glances at me sideways, smiling as she shimmies out of the skirt then kicks it across her bedroom floor. “And these?” she asks, running her thumbs along the hem of her brown tights. “On or off?”
I nearly trip while making my way off the bed and over to her. Dropping to my knees at her feet, I look up at her as she tucks unruly curls behind her ears. “May I?” I ask, running my hands up the sides of her thighs.
“Yes,” she whispers, her thumbnail lodged between her teeth.
Looking up at her for permission, I bring my mouth to her stomach, pressing kisses from one hip to the other as my fingers hook over the tights and begin pulling themdown, down, downall the way to the floor. Helping her step out of them, I support one ankle and then the other before balling the tights up and tossing them toward her skirt.
Her underwear is black cotton, nothing fancy but completely, entirely, maddeninglyhers.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” I tell her, running my hands up the backs of her legs toward the curve of her ass. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Prue. Every single inch of you.”
She clears her throat, makes avaguesound of acknowledgment, and then attempts to walk away back toward the bed.
“No, no,” I say, holding tightly onto the flesh of her thighs. “Stay here with me.”
She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra beforeletting it drop onto the top of my head. “Whoops,” she says, her smile audible.
I take it in my fist, then tease the backs of her thighs with the lace as I press my nose to her hip and breathe her in. “Can I?” I ask. “Can I take these off?”
I look up to see her, pressing my chin into the cotton fabric stretching across her belly. She nods shyly, before placing a hand in my hair and gripping tightly.
“If you want to,” she whispers.
“Doyouwant me to?” I ask.
She nods again.
“Let me hear you, Prue.”
“Can we lie down?” she asks. “I’m feeling a little dizzy.”
