She freezes, every muscle locking. "Luan, I—"
"Stay a little longer." Not a request. Not quite a command. Something in between. An invitation she's free to refuse but that I desperately hope she won't.
"I'm sorry. I fell asleep. I didn't mean to—"
I turn in her embrace, rolling to face her, cutting off the unnecessary apology with my mouth on hers.
The kiss is immediate. Intense. Everything I've been holding back for weeks, all the want and need and desperate hunger I've been denying, pouring into this single point of contact. My lips claiming hers with a possessiveness I didn't know I was capable of, tasting her properly for the first time since the club, since that kiss that was supposed to be performance and became something else entirely.
She makes a small sound against my mouth, surprise and want tangled together, and opens for me immediately.
I break away after several seconds that feel simultaneously too long and nowhere near long enough. Pull back just far enough to give her space. Give her time. Give her the opportunity to end this before it goes further than either of us can take back.
She's breathing hard, chest rising and falling rapidly, her blue eyes wide and dark in the growing light. Looking at me like she's seeing something she didn't expect to find.
Then she closes the distance herself. Eliminates the space I created. Kisses me again with a hunger that matches my own, her tongue sliding against mine, her hand fisting in my hair and pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.
I roll us, using my weight and leverage to position her beneath me, bracketing her body with my arms, caging her in without crushing her. Letting her feel my size, my strength, everything I'm barely holding back.
"Are you sure?" My voice comes out rough, strained with the effort of maintaining control. "Because if you don't leave this bed in the next three seconds, I won't be able to stop."
The words are fair warning. Honest assessment of exactly how close I am to losing the iron grip I maintain on my self-control at all times. How much I want this. Want her.
She looks up at me. Nods once, sharp and certain.
Not enough.
"My vision isn't great these days." I force the admission out, self-deprecating. "I need you to say it. Need to hear you."
"Yes." Clear. Certain. No hesitation coloring the single word. "Yes, Luan. I'm sure."
The permission detonates something inside me that's been compressed too long, held too tight, denied too consistently.
I kiss her again, harder this time, all pretense of gentleness abandoned in favor of raw need. Possessive. Claiming. Everything I've been denying myself finally given free rein.
My hands find the hem of her thin pajama top, the fabric soft under my fingers. I pull it up and off in one smooth motion, breaking the kiss only long enough to clear her head before my mouth is on hers again.
I force myself to slow down. To take my time even though everything in me is screaming to rush, to take, to claim without preamble or patience. Kiss down from her mouth to her jaw, following the delicate line to her ear, learning the taste of her skin, the way she shivers when I find sensitive spots, the small sounds she makes when I do something she likes.
Down her neck, feeling her pulse racing under my lips. Her collarbone, sharp and delicate. Her breasts, taking time with each one, using tongue and teeth and suction until she's arching into my mouth, her hands fisted in my hair, her breathing ragged.
The taste of her skin is intoxicating. Salt and sweetness and something fundamentally her. The texture differs depending on where I'm kissing, smoothness giving way to different kinds of softness, variations I catalog automatically even as I lose myself in sensation.
I can't see her face clearly, my vision still too compromised for that kind of detail in the dim morning light. But I can feel everything. The warmth of her skin under my lips. The way her breathing changes when I do something she particularly likes. The small gasps and moans I'm pulling from her. The way her body moves beneath mine, seeking friction, seeking more.
My other senses compensate for what sight can't provide, sharpening until every touch is amplified, every sound crystal clear, every scent and taste magnified beyond normal perception.
I kiss down her body, slower now despite the urgency thrumming through my veins. Deliberate. Worshipful. Mapping every inch of her with my mouth while my hands follow, learning the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips, the softness of her thighs.
My fingers find the waistband of her pajama bottoms. I pull them down as I continue my descent, dragging the fabric over her hips and down her legs before tossing them aside without looking to see where they land.
She's not wearing anything underneath. Completely bare. Completely mine for this moment.
I settle between her legs, spreading them wider, making room for my shoulders. The scent of her arousal is overwhelming this close, making my mouth water, making my cock ache with the need to be inside her.
Not yet. Not until she's ready. Not until she's desperate for it.
I taste her properly, my tongue sliding through wet heat, finding the bundle of nerves that makes her cry out. Use my mouth and my fingers together, learning what she likes, what makes her gasp versus what makes her moan, what makes her thighs tremble and her hands pull at my hair.
