Five minutes later, I turned on the small lamp on the nightstand. Warm orange light spilled across the bed, illuminating her sleeping face clearly.
Anthea lay on her back, breathing even and deep. Maybe the AC was too high—she'd kicked off the covers. She wore a thin camisole nightgown. The left strap had slipped off, exposing her honey-toned, rounded shoulder. The hem had ridden up to her waist. Long legs and white lace panties completely visible.
I unbuttoned my shirt and stripped off my pants. Got on the bed in just my boxers. The moment I lay on my side next to her, the scent of her body wash invaded my senses.
My hand traced her cheek. Fingers followed her contours down, past her chin, and reached her lips. Soft lips slightly parted, moist and inviting. I bent down. Kissed her.
Not rushing, I'd said. Make her love me again, I'd said. And now? Like some horny teenager, desperate, unable to control my desire. But I didn't care anymore. I needed to touch her, possess her, leave my mark inside her body.
Her lips were sweeter than I remembered. My tongue pushed in, swept across her teeth, tangled with hers. She made a tiny whimper in her sleep but didn't wake. She wouldn't wake.
She wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were already standing at attention, forming two small peaks through the thin fabric. My palm covered her breast, feeling her fullness through the material, the hardened tip.
My cock jumped to attention almost instantly. Six years—I'd been going fucking crazy wanting her!
My hand reached her most secret place, stroked her pussy through the fabric, and felt moisture. Even in sleep, her body was responding to me. I pulled my lips into a satisfied smirk.
I pushed the fabric aside, fingers found her sensitive clit, rubbing gently. Her breathing quickened, small moans escaped her mouth. She grew wetter. I pushed one finger inside—her tight channel immediately wrapped around me, warm and welcoming.
"Silas..." Anthea's brow furrowed slightly, unconsciously calling my name.
She was dreaming of me? My heart slammed hard. My cock throbbed painfully. Even though she said she wanted distance, in her dreams, she was thinking of me, calling my name.
"Seems like you miss me too, don't you?" I chuckled low in her ear. "I'm here, Anthea."
She seemed to hear, body relaxing. I added another finger, pumped slowly, mimicking penetration. Her skin broke out in fine sweat, like she'd been glazed with honey.
"Hot..." She panted helplessly.
"Hot, baby?" My voice was wrecked. "I'll cool you down."
I pulled my fingers out, sucked them into my mouth, tasted Anthea. Still sweet as hell! I forced down my hunger, got up, and went to the kitchen. Opened the fridge, grabbed some ice cubes.
When I got back to the bed, I'd stripped off my boxers. I looked at the defenseless woman on the bed. My cock was engorged, veins bulging, demanding its home. I stripped Anthea completely naked, then pressed one ice cube against her burning neck.
"Mm..." Anthea shuddered violently.
Extreme cold meeting burning skin—she instinctively tried to escape the stimulus, but I pinned her shoulder down. I let the ice slide down her collarbone, over her heaving chest, circling between her breasts. Ice water melted, mixed with her sweat, and ran down her cleavage.
"So cold... mmm..." She writhed, nipples reddening from the ice's stimulation.
I bent down, took one in my mouth along with the half-melted ice cube. My tongue's warmth, the ice's cold, the sweetness of her breast—three sensations tangled together. I sucked hard, teeth grazing the sensitive peak.
"Ah..." Anthea's head fell back, neck forming a beautiful arc.
I sucked hard on her vulnerable throat, leaving a red mark. Her hands unconsciously gripped the sheets beneath her.
I continued with the ice cube down her flat stomach, circling her sensitive navel until the ice completely melted, pooling in her belly button. Only then did I bend down, licked the water clean.
Then I grabbed the second ice cube. I spread her legs, positioned them in an M. Her pussy was flushed, opening and closing, dripping.
"Beautiful," I murmured, pressing the ice cube against her warm entrance.
"No... don't..." Anthea whimpered in her dream, resisting.
"Don't be scared. You'll like it."
I pushed with my fingers, working the ice cube slowly inside her. The cold intrusion made her arch. Maybe her internal heat was too high—the ice melted quickly, mixed with her fluids, and spilled out.
