Pre-come beads at the head as I stroke lightly up my length, fantasising it’s her tentative fingers. Is she a virgin? I bet she is. So innocent. Doesn’t realise how enticing she is.
Her knickers have the scent of her ripe little cunt, salty and sweet. I breathe it in, smothering my nose and face with it.
Then I grip harder, and I really am dreaming as I envision being inside her. I haven’t seen between her legs, but I bet it’s all pink, rosy folds. Soft and delicious as candy floss.
The temptation to pull up the covers and look is there. But I restrain myself.
When I first see her like that, it’ll be because she’s desperate for my cock. Because she’s beyond shame through absolute arousal.
I need to be in her life, her body, and most of all, her mind. I want for her every thought to be of me, as mine is of her.
Until then, I just have these taboo moments with her, stolen as she sleeps.
I stroke myself faster, rougher as I think how I’d lick her until she screamed. Once, then again. Two, three times. Hell, I’d lick her all night, until she was wrung out and couldn’t do any more.I’d push her limits for ecstasy further than she ever realised was possible.
She’d be soaked from coming, but tight as I slipped into her, claiming her.
I come quickly, not dragging out the pleasure. I don’t feel I deserve that, somehow. What I’m doing is wrong. So while I can’t help myself, I want it over with. I spurt into my hand and it’s good but almost painful in how it’s not what I most desire.
Lily is a drug. I need my fix of seeing her and yielding to the instincts of my body. But I crave her love.
I quietly clean up and tuck my dick away, then settle into a chair, leaning back and watching my girl.
Minutes pass, or perhaps hours.
She shifts in her sleep, and I’m jolted into full wakefulness. She winces and jerks in her sleep.
“Nnn.” Her brow pinches and it’s as though there’s a link straight to my chest. My girl is having a nightmare.
She shakes her head, and her muscles spasm. The movement pushes off the cover, and exposes her cute little lace-trimmed camisole. My heart stretches.
“Help… No. Don’t.” Her arms jerk and thrash, but unconsciously.
Red fills the edge of my vision. What. The. Fuck.
I should have made him suffer more. I wish I’d drawn it out to fucking hours and hours.
“Nggg.” She makes a sound like a sob, and though if she woke now, I’d have all manner of excuses I’d need to make, I reach out and smooth my hand over her hair.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “You’re safe.”
That soothes her for a second, then the dream is back. Her hair is unbelievably soft. It’s warm liquid silk, but I barely notice, all my concentration on Lily, and lulling her away from this nightmare.
She twitches, and turns, twisting herself in the sheets as she rolls away from me, all four limbs moving as though she’s running. But when I shift forwards and gently comb my fingers through her hair again, she leans back into it. Although the nightmare rages on in her mind.
The decision is made in an instant.
I slip onto the bed behind her.
“Shhh. I’m here.” I run my palm slowly down her upper arm. “Nothing is going to hurt you now, you’re mine.” It’s an oath.
I’ll protect her, even from myself.
Stroking her hair helps calm her more, but she’s still twisting with some unknown assailant.
Her chest heaves, and my heart echoes with the same panic as I risk everything.
It flashes through my mind that it will be impossible to explain why I’m not only in her room, but in her bed. If she wakes.
