I woke slowly. Too slowly.
Like my body was submerged in warm water, each inch aching to break into the surface. My limbs were heavy, warm and tangled in the sheets that didn't feel quite like mine. Even my pillow smelled faintly of cedar, and something darker. A deep, masculine musk that was both foreign and achingly familiar.
A soft, restless sound escaped my throat before I could stop it.
Have I been dreaming?
But no, my body betrayed me. Every nerve of mine was on fire, every breath shallow and trembling. I could feel it before I fully remembered.
The delicate, insistent press of fingers between my legs in that hazy, dreamlike state. Impossibly gentle, yet raw with need. I could feel it exploring, coaxing, igniting a fire that pulsed beneath my skin. Fuck, it feels so good.
The warm glide of his touch, in and out between my legs. The slow deliberate rhythm he had set, pulling me deeper into that blurred line between sleep and desire. The sensation was a secret whispered just for me, raw and aching, like a promise reverberating through my body.
I couldn't help the grounding of my hips, moving on its own accord along with his touch like it was begging for more. My fingers curled into the sheets, pressing my face further into the pillow, chasing the fading sparks of pleasure lingering between my thighs.
So close. So achingly close. But just beyond reach, slipping away teasingly, leaving only a burning heat in their wake.
A low groan escaped me as I shifted, rolling onto my side. The hem of my silk chemise whispering against my thigh. A sensual reminder of what had just passed. It took a moment for my mind to catch up, to piece together the vivid fragments of that stolen touch.
Why had it felt so real?
My eyes fluttered open, and a sharp gasp tore from my throat. Just as I tried to push myself up, his hands pinned me firmly against the bed, spreading my legs wider with commanding ease before his mouth found me. Hungry and insistent.
His tongue slipping inside me. Tasting, teasing, vanishing then returning in a maddening rhythm. His fingers sliding up, curling around my clit, kneading with a slow, relentless pressure that sent shockwaves through my core.
I wanted to resist, to fight him. But all that came out was a trembling moan.
My hands moved of their own accord, fingers tangling in his thick dark hair, pulling him deeper. Desperate for more of that intoxicating contact, when I should've been pushing him away. My back arched, pressing into the bed's cool sheets, surrendering to the exquisite, delicate torment of his tongue. Licking, lapping, exploring every inch with fierce tenderness.
This wasn't a dream.
He was here. All along. Hovering above me, consuming me.
And I loved it. Fuck, I hated that I love this.
"When did you get here?" I breathed, my voice ragged and raw, trembling with need.
His tongue slipped out of me, and I nearly cried out from the sudden emptiness, only to be replaced by the thick, hard length pressing inside me. My walls clenching fiercely, gripping him tight as he began to move. Slow at first, deliberate, as if he was savoring every inch he claimed.
"Miss me already?" he teased, a dark edge in his voice. "There is no use in fighting this."
I shot him a glare, but before I could think to push him away, he quickened his pace, driving into me deeper and harder. It was like he knew what I was going to do. Like he could read me.
And I swear, I tried to resist. Every fibre of my being screamed to fight him off. But my body betrayed me, melting into his relentless rhythm.
There was just something raw and unyielding about him. Something primal, that ignited a fire deep inside me. A craving I couldn't, and didn't want to deny.
He bent closer, his lips brushing against my ear, hot and breathless. "I saw you through the cameras," he whispered, his voice low and intimate. "You looked like you needed my help. So I decided to give it."
"I don't need your—Fuck!" I gasped as he thrust himself deeper inside me, every inch claiming me with brutally. Deliciously.
His low chuckle vibrated against my skin. "What was that you were saying?" His hands slid from my shoulders down to my chest, tugging at the straps of my chemise aside before covering my nipple with his mouth.
I bit my lip desperately, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as his tongue lavished my nipple, flicking and teasing with hungry precision. His other hand gripped my breast, kneading and squeezing, matching the relentless rhythm of his hips. Harder and faster, like he was taking everything I had to give while I lay there, utterly ripe and aching for him to claim.
"What the fuck are you doing to me?" I muttered breathlessly, voice thick with need as he drove into me with unrelenting force.
The slick, wet sound of our bodies colliding cutting through the air, as he drove into me deeper. Harder. Faster. The bed's frame rattling against the wall with each of his thrusts.
He was losing control, just as the heat inside me coiled tighter and tighter. I could already feel him nearing his limit. His breath ragged and close.
But just as I was about to shatter, he flipped me onto my stomach with fierce urgency.
"I've been wanting to do this," he murmured against my skin, his fingers hiking up the skirt of my chemise higher, exposing my slick, glistening lower back. Bare and already begging for him.
His hands slid down my hips, pushing them wider apart.
"Ever since I first saw you, that night," he added, voice low and rough.
"You did," I breathed, my voice raw and ragged, muffled against the pillow beneath me.
"And I've been dreaming about this moment, craving it ever since," he whispered, before sliding into me again, deeper and harder, setting fire to every nerve in my body. "Even when I knew it was wrong."
His movements grew merciless. Hard, fast and relentless. The way he drove into me with fierce hunger that matched my own.
Every thrust stole my breath. Every slam of his hips against my slick skin set my nerves ablaze. My hands clenched at the sheets, then the pillow beneath my face, holding on to it as if it were the only anchor keeping me grounded.
The heat coiled tighter, swirling through me with a fierce urgency. My body trembled beneath him, every nerve ending screaming in delicious overload. The sounds of the slick, wet slap of skin against skin, his ragged breaths in my ear, the way my own breath hitched and shattered.
He was everywhere, consuming me completely, pushing me beyond every limit I thought I had. My muscles clenched, tightening around him as waves of pleasure crashed through me. I screamed, muffled into the pillow, raw and unrestrained. My body shuddering as I tumbled over to the edge.
He followed moments later, his lips stuttering as he pulled free, spilling warmth across my back. Thick, heavy and urgent. His breath burning hot against the hollow of my neck, spreading a fever beneath my skin like a secret carved just for us.
We lay tangled, with him pressing down on me while I stayed curled on my stomach. Our bodies slick and raw. Our breaths collided, ragged and desperate, hearts hammering in a fierce, unspoken rhythm. The room hung heavy with the scent of everything we've torn loose.
A wild, sacred aftermath only we would know.