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There’s a strip of skin at the back of her neck where her hair has fallen forward, and I kiss it without thinking. She’s fucking precious asleep, all that attitude at rest. I kiss her again and let my tongue drag. Wake up and look at me. My only regret about the night is sleeping in my jeans, which is its own kind of torture right now.

She makes a small sound without fully waking and pushes back against me and stays there. That about finishes me. I kiss her again, lower, where her neck meets her shoulder, and this time, she stretches and her hand comes back and finds my forearm.

“Mm.”

“Morning,” I whisper, and glance at Rafe’s bed. Empty. Perfect.

“What time is it?”

I check my phone. “Three fifty-four.”

Her voice is wrecked from sleep, her eyes are still closed, and her thumb is moving on my arm.

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, and set my teeth lightly against her skin, then kiss it.

She stretches again and presses back into me, and then she rolls over in my arms to face me. I push her hair out of her face, and she smiles when she sees me.

“No,” she whispers.

I go to kiss her and get her cheekbone, because she’s still moving, and she laughs, low and rough against my jaw. “That’s my face.”

“I’ll kiss you wherever I want.”

She puts her hand on the side of my neck and kisses me properly, slowly, and I’m not ready for it. Last night we went at each other like animals, but this is tender. She’s in no hurry, and I let her set the pace, and I’m about to lose my mind.

“How’s your head?” I murmur.

“Just a headache. I don’t feel sick.”

“Good.”

She hooks a leg over mine, and her hand slides up my back over my shirt, all the way up my spine, and I shiver. She explores me over the fabric and never once reaches under it, and she doesn’t ask. I said two words to her about it last night with my hand around her wrist, and she remembers. I kiss her like I’ve got something to say about that, and I don’t say it.

I don’t do anything slow, though. It’s all or nothing with me, and right now, it’s all. I reach between her legs, and she’s soaking. She says my name into my mouth, and that’s it for me. She laughs, knowing exactly how impatient I am, unbuttons my jeans, and pulls my dick out, and I kiss her while she strokes me. Then she slides her thong off and turns and presses back against me, and I’m gone. I don’t even think about a condom until I’m already inside her, and she moans.

“Nash,” she says through her teeth. “You feel so fucking good. Don’t stop.”

I take her chin and talk into her ear. “You like feeling all of me?”

She arches to take me deeper. “I’m on birth control.”

I lick the shell of her ear. “Don’t say that to me, baby. I’ll fill you up.”

“Do it,” she says, and reaches back and pulls my hair.

I get up on my knees behind her with her hips in my hands, and she stays pressed into the pillow while I drag my palm down her spine. The front of my shirt keeps getting in the way, so I gather the hem into my teeth and hold it there. She can’t see a thing with her face in the pillow, and I can see all of her. She starts moving back onto me, and I have to close my eyes.

“Are you gonna want to fuck me all the time?” she moans, still half asleep.

I push all the way in and hold her there. “Is that what you want?”

She nods into the pillow.

I smile and run my hands down her thighs. “I’ve never had morning sex before. I think I get the hype now.” The shirt drops because I’m talking, and I leave it. “And you’re so fucking pretty in the morning.”

“I want to see you, Nash,” she whimpers.

She falls forward, and I slip out of her, and I miss her immediately. She rolls onto her back and opens her thighs for me. I slide back in, and my shirt is covering everything it needs to cover when she looks up at me. I kiss her, then put my thumb in her mouth. “Suck.”