I is for Ian

Then, I slipped under the covers and lay down flat on my back. Our arms were touching, shoulder to shoulder, as we both stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. There were a few moments of that silent staring ahead before I decided that all this was a bit silly and moved my arm out and above her.

“Do you want to come closer? I think we’re losing that body heat this way.”

She didn’t answer, just scooted down so her head rested on my shoulder and her body was at least touching mine from top to bottom. Her feet were daintily pressed together and pushed against my shin, and her core just barely separated from my hip, leaving that small bit of mystery between us.

Yet, even with all that space, the added warmth was nice, and slowly, I felt my eyes drifting shut. Soon, her breathing had slowed, and she flipped over so her backside rested against my hip and her hair was close to my face. I breathed in the smell of her and felt my body relax. Within minutes, I was asleep.

I didn’t dream so much as fantasize. About a life where this kind of embrace was common. About the warmth of another body in my bed as a regular feature of the night.

When I woke up with the rising sun, her head was on my chest, one leg draped over mine and tucked underneath. Her chest was crushed against my side, and my arm was wrapped around her shoulders, holding her to me. It was comfortable as much as it was exciting. I didn’t want to move for fear of never finding that level of comfort again, but when her head moved and she made a sound that indicated she was also coming to consciousness, I let my arm fall so she could shift herself.

I felt so drawn to her.

My cock was pressing hard against the seam of my sweatpants, and my heart thudded in my chest as she looked up at me from just above it. Her eyes were fluttering open, and there was barely a moment of recognition before she realized where she was and what had happened. And there was heat behind them.

I could see it. Burning like the embers in my own body. Heat for her. Her heat for me. We both felt it in that moment, and there was no way to deny it. The only question was whether we would act. Whether we could throw that caution to the wind and let ourselves do what we both knew the other wanted.

I ached for her, mind, body, and soul. I wanted her more than I had ever wanted another, more than I ever thought I could want another. She was beautiful and angelic and so, so very sexy. The tension we had built from our first moment of banter and anger, all the way up to this one, waking up in each other’s arms, it was so wrought with intensity that I felt like it would burst from my chest, and I would explode into a million pieces if I didn’t make some kind of move.

I had to try.

I leaned my head down, and she met me halfway. Our lips yearned for the other’s, and when they met, it was a soft but hungry embrace. If any doubt remained before, it was gone now. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.

I pulled her up toward me, and we sunk into the kiss. Our tongues slid into each other’s mouths, and I tasted her. It was bliss. When our lips separated, there were no words. Only the smile of two people who thought the same thing. That they wanted—no, needed—pleasure. And to give pleasure.

She was faster than I.

Her hand slid down over the lump in my pants, and she wrapped her palm over it. A gentle squeeze brought a sound from deep inside me I wasn’t aware I could make. It was a grumbling, ancient sound, a sound of pleasure so carnal and yet so pure, that I had never made it before. It only deepened as she stroked me that way, her grin turning into something more playful and devious.

Feeling the control of the situation slipping from me, I brought my hand to her thigh and slid up to her core. Sliding my fingers between the gap in her thighs, I pressed my middle finger between her lips and felt her jolt in place and watched her jaw drop. Her eyes closed momentarily as she wiggled in my grip, and I began to slowly swirl my finger in place.

“Do you like that?” I whispered.

She nodded and made a moaning sound. The blankets still covered us from the waist down, so I couldn’t watch my hands like I would have liked to, but I slid my hand up and then down again, under the hem of her pants and down past her soft, wet mound. My middle finger found her clit easily and gently swirled over it, causing her free hand to latch onto my bicep and clench, her other hand stopping my stroking motion as she let out a tiny wail.