I place my hands on her hips, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh, and look up. Pale skin glowing against the rugged backdrop of granite and pine. She starts to cross her arms over her chest—reflex, modesty in the harsh noon sun.
I catch her hands, pulling them down to her sides.
"Don't." Plea as much as command. "Let me look at you."
My hands run up her sides, spanning her ribs, and her breath hitches. I cup the weight of her breasts, thumbs brushing over nipples that harden instantly. She shivers, head falling back, eyes closing against the sun's glare.
"You have no idea." I lean forward and press an open-mouthed kiss to her stomach. "How long I've wanted this. Since the moment you walked onto that dance floor."
Her fingers tangle in my hair, gripping tight. "That was two nights ago."
"Feels like a lifetime."
I pull back, grab my discarded t-shirt, and spread it on the flat surface of the boulder behind me. The granite is warm, soaking up the sun, but I want her comfortable.
"Lie back. Let me taste you."
A fraction of hesitation—a flush rising from her chest to her throat—then desire wins. She lowers herself onto the makeshift bed, lying back, hair fanning out around her. Her legs drape over the edge of the rock, feet finding purchase on the stone.
I move over her, settling between her thighs. The view destroys me. Completely open, bared to the sky, trusting me with the most vulnerable parts of herself.
"Kade," she whispers, hips shifting restlessly.
"I've got you."
I run my hands down her thighs, parting them further. I don't enter her. Not yet. I lower my head instead.
Her cry is sharp, shocking in the mountain stillness. I taste her—salt and musk and the sweetness of her earlier release. Slowly. Deliberately. This isn't a race. It's an exploration. I use my tongue to trace the sensitive terrain, learning exactly what makes her breath catch, what makes her heels dig into the rock.
She writhes against me, hands clutching at empty air, nothing to hold onto but the sensation itself.
"Kade... Kade, please..."
I don't stop. Flat of my tongue, the pressure of my mouth, teasing the swollen bundle of nerves until she's arching off the stone, begging, lost in it.
"That's it." The vibration against her skin. "Feel that."
I bring her right to the edge, her muscles coiling tight, trembling on the precipice.
"Don't stop." Her voice is ragged. "Don't you dare."
I lift my head.
Her face is wrecked ecstasy—eyes unfocused, lips parted. Alive. Beautiful. Both at once.
"I need to be inside you." The words scrape out. "Right now."
"Yes." She reaches for me, hands frantic. "Yes."
I rise up, positioning myself. Hard again, painfully so, blood roaring in my ears. I lift her legs, hooking them over my shoulders, changing the angle. It folds her open, deepens the access—but it also keeps her face where I can see it.
I sink into her.
We both hiss at the friction. Tighter this time. Slower. Every inch a deliberate thing. I fill her completely, hitting depths I couldn't reach before, and the sensation is so intense I have to brace my hands on the rock beside her head to keep from losing it immediately.
"God," she breathes, eyes fluttering open. Blue and startled, locking onto mine.
"Look at me." I lean down until our mouths are inches apart, sharing the same air. "Don't close your eyes, Wren. Stay with me."
