When I sit beside Maisie on the bed, she murmurs something soft under her breath, her eyelids fluttering.
I grip her chin between my fingers and turn her face toward me so I can clean her up.
Even in her sleep, she sinks into my touch, nuzzling her cheek into the palm of my hand and sighing contently when I gently swipe the warm cloth over her face.
I take my time removing the makeup, my eyes roaming over every inch of her face that I touch. It’s the first time I’ve ever been able to stare at her without being rushed, without having an audience.
She looks peaceful. Beautiful. Even more unguarded than she is while awake. Her long lashes fan out on her cheeks, fluttering as her breathing begins to even out.
Carefully, I wipe the makeup away and toss the rag into the laundry basket, then grab an old T-shirt from my dresser and a pair of socks.
I make quick work of the heels on her feet, letting them fall to the floor with a thud.
She moves, another dreamy sigh bubbling out of her as my fingers flex around her ankle, my thumb making a circle on her soft skin.
“Mmmm. I love your hands on me.”
The words are whispered so quietly that I almost miss them, her eyes still pressed tightly shut.
The admission makes me stop in my tracks, my hands still on her warm skin. Fuck, even in her sleep, she says whatever she’s thinking. No hesitation, no filter.
I swallow hard, setting her foot down gently, and move to ease the T-shirt over her head, deftly loosening the straps of her dress and tugging it down once the fabric of the T-shirt covers all of the parts I’ve been desperate to see again.
She’s infiltrated every single thought in my mind since she stripped down in my office that day.
But I don’t want her like this. When she’s drunk and vulnerable, not able to give consent.
That’s not something I would ever fucking do.
So I drag the T-shirt all the way down her body and pull the dress down her hips from beneath it, tossing it onto the floor with her heels. My shirt covers her completely, settling right above her knees.
And thank fuck for that.
Maisie sighs as I pull the comforter over her, and she burrows into it, twisting her fingers in and clinging to it like a lifeline.
She’s clean and safe, and no one can fucking touch her.
For a moment, just briefly, I let myself dream about what it would be like if I could have Maisie. Truly have her.
Seeing her in my bed… wearing my shirt… cuddled into my sheets has something possessive tugging in my chest, has mystomach dipping at the idea of having her like this more than just tonight.
After she’s sated and exhausted from my cock and my mouth.
Waking up with her in the mornings with my head between her legs and my tongue buried in her pussy.
The sun beaming in through the windows and covering every inch of her skin in warm morning light.
She’d have a sleepy, just-got-fucked look in her eyes, a sweet little smile that would make me want her again the moment we were done.
I reach for a pillow from the bed, throwing it onto the ground and lowering myself onto the floor beside the bed.
The last thought in my head as sleep pulls me under is her.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
MAISIE
