‘Are you okay?’ Those slender fingers tighten and we’re holding hands as my eyes adjust to the dark.
‘Yes. I was dreaming.’
‘I hope it was a good one.’ My delivery is husky whisper cutting through the darkness as I instinctually move closer, realising too late that she can probably feel the hard line of my cock pressed to her thigh. ‘It sounded like a good one.’ The words are out of my mouth without thought. ‘Do you want to tell me about it.
‘No.’ I hear the smile in her words, see the gleam of her teeth, the heat of her body calling to me. ‘I’m sorry I woke you.’
‘I’m not.’
‘Then I’m not, too.’ This time, her tone is all encouragement.
‘I hope it was me you were dreaming about, but feel free to lie.’
Every single one of my muscles is tense, my cock literally aching for her touch.
A whisper. A kiss. A sign that she needs me.
‘I’ve missed you.’ As she rolls to face me, bringing with her the scent of soap or shampoo or whatever alchemy that potion is. ‘I didn’t know how to say it.’
‘I’m glad you did.’ I lift my head just enough to press my mouth to hers, the rest of my words going unsaid.I missed you, too.
Her lips part, her tongue warm and soft, her knee hooking over my thigh, her skin alabaster in a slice of moonlight.
‘Oh, James.’ The feel of her is like sheer relief, wet against my fingers, the press of her against my hand.
‘You came. In your dream.’ The realisation is a thrill though my body as the evidence coats my fingertips and residual tremors pulse around them. ‘Tell me. Tell me how you’re wet.’
‘It was you. All you.’
If her orgasm has passed, mine shimmers on the surface, my balls drawn tight as she reaches between us, her palm a burst of electrical friction across the head. I grit my teeth, but it doesn’t stop me from thrusting into her hand.
‘Tell me what I was doing.’
‘What you always do.’ Her words are more sigh than anything as she brings my cock between her legs, brushing the meat of my palm. ‘You were teasing me.’
‘Like this?’ My fingers are wet as I press my hand over hers, swiping the fat head though her wetness. Every ounce of blood in my body rushes to be part of this connection.
‘Yes. Oh, yes.’ A breathy sign. ‘And no.’ A petulant pout. ‘You wouldn’t give it to me. You said I had to help myself.’
The images,fuck,the images running through my head, the way the curve of her hand slides over mine as she touches herself.
‘Oh, darling.’
‘I did this, while you watched standing over me.’ I suck in a breath, losing my ever-loving mind as that curved hand becomes a slide of slow fingers, slow fingers that encourage her sigh. ‘That feels so good...’As she arches, I cup her backside, pulling her more fully onto my cock. It’s not enough, and it’s everything. Bumps and glancing touches. Sighs in the dark that wrap themselves tightly around my heart.
My breath halts—I might be dead—as she lifts suddenly, sliding her knee over my thigh, her body now balanced over mine.
‘Mmmm.’ Up on her knees, she slides her hand between her legs, continuing her torture of me.
I think my head might explode, or maybe my balls, as her hand slips slowly away with each inch that she lowers herself. Her wet fingers trail my chest and before I can question it, I’m lifting them to my mouth.
‘I’m addicted to you. To the way you taste.’
‘I’ve missed your filthy whispers.’ She groans, sliding her thighs wider, pulling me deeper, my own moan a desperate, ragged thing between us. I try hard for restraint, try so hard not to buck up into her as she leans forward, her pleasured whispers pressed against my mouth.
The muscles in my abs tighten as her nipples brush against my chest, her hair falling around us like a veil as she tightens her hands in mine.
‘I fucking love you.’ I know I’m not supposed to say it—I know she doesn’t want to hear it—but I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I am literally fit to burst. Fit to bleed my love all over.
