When I peel my eyes open what feels like hours later, Jack has crawled into bed with me, not bothering to wake me.
It makes my heart pinch at the fact he let me sleep when I know he had other plans in mind.
My body itches at how close we are to one another. The distance between us feels weighty, brimming with intense longing. His thick thigh is barely an inch from my fingertips, and I curl my hand into a fist to stop myself from touching him.
I know it’s inevitable.
We are going to fuck.
If not now, eventually, and probably soon.
But if he let me sleep, I should do the same for him.
Or…
His sheets are draped low on his hips, revealing a glimpse of the boxers he’s wearing underneath.
I undress quickly, leaving only my lacy panties on, and climb back onto the bed. With a gentle tug, I pull the sheet off of him to straddle his body.
He doesn’t wake, but I can’t resist aligning our bodies so perfectly that if he were awake and hard, we would fit together seamlessly.
My pussy flutters at the thought, and I grind my clit against his thick length almost involuntarily.
The only part of him that stirs is his cock, and the feeling of him twitching against my core spurs me on.
I lean down, kissing him softly on the lips. His breathing deepens, and he shifts in his sleep.
I grin, hoping that he loves waking up like this because I would love to make a habit of it. My heart races in anticipation as I lean in further, teasing him with soft, wet kisses against his neck.
Each touch brings him closer to consciousness, and I savor every moment. With a final peck on his full lips, I pull back slightly, trailing my hand down his naked chest, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath my fingertips.
I grind my body against his, his breath hitching as my movements become more urgent.
My own pleasure builds with each jerk of my hips, but he continues to sleep despite his thickening cock, unaware that I’m about to come completely undone on top of him.
Unaware that I’m using his body like a little slut.
My hands dance across his skin, moving up to cup his face. I lean down closer to him as my body tenses with an orgasm.
The tendrils of consciousness weave themselves into his brain, and he responds to me with a gasp as he fully wakes.
He looks into my eyes, a mixture of surprise and desire reflecting there. His hands move to grip my hips, holding me flush against him as my body convulses in pleasure.
His hand slides up my back, stopping between my shoulder blades and splaying there as I regain my bearings.
"Couldn’t wait for me to wake up, baby?" he asks in a gentle, teasing voice, hoarse from sleep. He calls me baby so often now, and it’s so fucking sweet it makes my teeth ache.
I sit up, my face flushing now that he’s cognizant of the fact that I just fucked myself to orgasm on his half-hard dick while he slept.
It’s fully hard now, so apparently he doesn’t mind.
His gaze remains on me, as intense as ever. I’m often thankful he seems to say whatever’s on his mind because otherwise, he is unreadable.
I take in every detail of his face—the sharpness of his jawline, the permanent dimple cratering his cheek, and his pouty lips, slightly damp from running his tongue across the seam.
My eyes track the movement and I shift my body, too antsy, when I think about how I know what they taste like.
How I want to taste them again.
