I woke to the smell of coffee and the low rumble of Theo's voice in the kitchen.
Sunlight poured through the bedroom windows, turning the white sheets gold. My body felt heavy, deliciously used, every muscle loose and humming. Between my thighs I was sticky, swollen, and so full of him that when I shifted, a slow trickle slipped free and soaked the sheet beneath me. I smiled into the pillow that still smelled like his skin and last night's sex.
He had kept his promise.
Four times he had filled me, each one slower and deeper than the last, until I was sobbing his name and begging him to stay inside while we slept. He had, cock softening but never leaving, arms locked around me like he was afraid I'd vanish if he let go.
I heard Marcus's deeper voice answer something, then Theo's low laugh (rare, rough, real).
I padded naked to the doorway and leaned against the frame.
