“I must ask that you return to your own bed. I will carry you.”
“Comfy here.” Without sitting up, she managed to wriggle out of her jacket. She threw it, as well as her gloves, onto the floor. I picked them up and set them aside. Then, I bent to pick her up, but she moaned in complaint.
“Nooo. Just let me sleeeeep.”
Blast it all.
“Fine.”
She could sleep in my bed tonight. I would sleep in hers.
Except her bed would smell like her. Would make me think of her. And I already knew that those conditions would not be conducive to me getting a good night’s rest.
They would be conducive to me ejaculating in my sleep. Like an idiot.
I was already aroused, still feeling the effects of having her pressed against me in the saloon earlier.
I would sleep on the floor. The nice, hard, cold floor. In the kitchen. That would do it.
Before I went, I slid the blanket out from beneath her body. I thought she was already asleep, but when I settled it over her, she rolled towards me and grasped my wrist with both hands.
“Stay with me.”
My pulse was more thunder than blood.
“Why?”
She did not answer.
Did not even open her eyes.
Did not let go of my wrist.
Terrible idea though it was, I kicked off my boots and laid my body down beside hers.
She must have felt me do it. Because she made a deep sound of contentment. Like she’d been holding her breath, and only now felt like she could let it out.
I, unfortunately, was nowhere near as relaxed. Every speck of me bristled, hummed. My lungs felt too small for my own breathing. My cock felt too big. It strained the crotch of my trousers to a painful degree.
Lualhati had caused me to have many erections during her time here. So far, I had not yet debased myself by relieving myself with my fist. I’d merely bitten down hard on my own will – and sometimes my own tongue – and suffered my way through it all.
I was not sure if I would be capable of that tonight.
But I could not stroke myself to orgasm while she slept blissfully unaware beside me. And until she let me go, I would not leave.
Experimentally, I attempted to pull my wrist away from her. She made an unhappy sound that sent my instincts spiralling with the need to fix, to soothe, to protect.
I left my arm where it was.
“Are you sleeping?” I said quietly.
There came no answer but the delicate flutter of her breath. I could feel it skimming over my face, we were that close to one another. The bed was not meant for two people, even if one of them was a little human. I could put no more space between us. Especially while she clutched my arm that way.
I should have at least closed my eyes, but did not. I studied her, an ache building in me every time I tried to find a flaw and found none. Even her eyelids, painted with some kind of false glitter that on anyone else I would have found ridiculous, were unspeakably lovely to me.
“You are beautiful, Lualhati Ortiz.”
She did not stir. I knew she was well and truly asleep then. There was no way she would have remained silent after a remark like that from me. She was so reactive to me. Always gasping, laughing, rolling her eyes at what I did and what I said.
