Rachel woke to pale morning light filtering through the windows, soft and diffused. She was warm beneath the sheets, Ghost's solid presence beside her radiating heat.
The house was caught in that early morning quiet, no birds yet, no cars passing, just the distant rhythmic sound of waves and the barely audible hum of the refrigerator downstairs.
She stretched slowly, careful not to wake him. Her body felt different this morning. Pleasantly sore in places she'd never really paid attention to before. The inside of her thighs. Her hips. Between her legs where he'd been last night, patient and thorough and devastating.
She rolled onto her side to look at him.
Ghost lay on his back, head turned slightly toward her on the pillow. One arm was bent behind his head, the other rested lowon his stomach, rising and falling with each breath. His face was relaxed in sleep, all those hard lines softened. She'd never seen him this unguarded before. Even when he slept, there was usually a tension in him, like some part of his brain never quite shut off. But this morning he looked peaceful.
Her gaze drifted lower. The sheet had slipped down to his hips during the night, pooling just below his navel. And beneath the thin white cotton, she could see him, hard and straining against the fabric.
Seeing him, knowing what he felt like, what he could do to her... heat flooded through her belly and lower.
She bit her lip, suddenly wide awake.
He looked good like this. All that lean muscle and controlled strength finally at rest. The defined lines of his chest and abdomen. The cut of muscle at his hips disappearing beneath the sheet. The faint trail of dark hair below his navel.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Rachel slipped beneath the covers.
The air under the sheet was warmer, thick with the smell of him, that cedar scent and something else, something distinctly male that made her mouth water. She moved carefully, her hand settling on his stomach first. His skin was hot beneath her palm, the muscleshard even in sleep. She felt his breath shift slightly, but he didn't wake.
Her fingers trailed lower, skimming over the ridges of his abs, tracing the V of muscle that led down, then wrapped her hand around him.
He was thick and hard, pulsing slightly against her palm.
His hips jerked, the reaction immediate and involuntary. She heard him inhale sharply above her, a quiet sound that might have been her name.
He was hot and heavy in her palm, the skin softer than she expected over the hard length. She stroked him once, base to tip, watching the way his stomach muscles contracted, then again, slower this time, her thumb brushing over the head.
His breathing changed. Deeper. Faster. His fingers fisted in the sheets.
"Fuck," he muttered low and thick with sleep.
Rachel looked up at him. His eyes were still closed, but his jaw was tight, his whole body going tense under her touch.
She lowered her mouth to him.
The first touch of her tongue made him groan, low and startled, like he'd just realized what was happening. She licked up theunderside of him, feeling the thick vein pulse against her tongue, tasting salt and clean skin.
Then she wrapped her lips around the head and sucked.
"Jesus—Rachel—" His hand shot down, tangling in her hair. Not pushing or pulling, just holding on like he needed something to anchor him.
She took him deeper, relaxing her jaw, her hand working the base where her mouth couldn't reach. She'd only done this once before, years ago, and she'd been terrible at it. But this felt different. She wanted this. Wanted to make him feel good. Wanted to wreck him the way he'd wrecked her last night.
She hollowed her cheeks and sucked harder, her tongue working along the underside, and his hips bucked up involuntarily.
"Shit—sorry—" His voice was wrecked already.
She hummed around him, letting him know it was okay, and the vibration made him curse again. His hand tightened in her hair, his whole body going rigid.
She found a rhythm, down and up, her hand and mouth working together, her other hand braced on his hip to feel every tremor running through him. He was throbbing against her tongue, getting harder, and she could feel him getting close. His breathing had turned ragged, his thighs tensing on either side of her.
"Baby," he groaned, his voice barely recognizable. "I'm gonna—you need to—"
She didn't pull back. She took him deeper instead, lips sealed tight around him, her hand twisting at the base the way that made his breathing stutter.
His whole body locked up. His fingers gripped her hair hard enough to sting. "Fuck—Rachel—I'm—"
