There's not a single part of me that feels guilty.
Her dream is building again. I watch in real time—the quickening of her breath, the flush bleeding down her throat, the way her thighs squeeze together. Chasing something she can't reach on her own.
I can help with that.
My hand slides down her body, and her legs part slightly—an invitation her conscious mind would never offer.
But her body knows me.
It's always known me.
The second I touch her, I have to cover my mouth against my shoulder because fuck, she's drenched. The thin fabric of her underwear clings to her, and the heat coming off her cunt makes my mouth water.
I press two fingers against her entrance through the ruined panties, feeling her pulse against me. Hot. Swollen. Needy.
She whimpers.
"That's it," I breathe against her ear. "Show me how much you need it. Show me how much you miss me."
I drag my fingers up through her slit, gathering the wetness pooling there, and bring them to my mouth.
The taste of her explodes on my tongue.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Sweet and salt and something uniquely her. The same taste I used to spend hours chasing with my tongue until she was shaking and crying and begging me to stop.
I want more.
I want to bury my face between her thighs and lick her until she wakes up screaming my name. Want to fuck her with my tongue while her husband sleeps three feet away, oblivious to the fact that his wife is coming on another man's mouth.
But not tonight.
Tonight I just take what I can get.
I slip my fingers back between her legs. Press the pads of my fingers against her pussy, just enough pressure to feel her flutter against me. She's so wet I could slide inside with no resistance. Could curl my fingers into that spot that makes her fall apart and watch her shatter without ever waking up.
The temptation is blinding.
Instead, I circle her clit through the fabric. Watching her face as her breath catches, as her back arches, as she climbs toward something her body is desperate for.
"You're going to come for me. Right here in his bed. And you won't even know it was real."
Her thighs clamp around my hand. Her lips part on a silent cry—and then she's pulsing against my fingers, riding out an orgasm in her sleep while I watch every second of it with dark, savage satisfaction.
Mine.
Always fucking mine.
Calder shifts.
I withdraw my hand and step back into the shadows, my fingers still slick with her release. He turns, settles, sinks back into oblivion.
Fucking idiot.
I stand in the dark, my cock so hard it's painful. I bring my fingers to my mouth again, sucking them clean, savoring every drop of her like a man dying of thirst.
I need to leave before I come in my pants like a fifteen-year-old.
