Fuck.
Closing my eyes, I desperately try thinking of anything else. Hospital budgets. The time Bradley broke his arm falling off the barn roof. Anything to tamp down the growing arousal threatening my self-control.
It doesn't work. Not when I can feel the warmth of her, not when her scent surrounds me, not when every breath she takes presses her back more firmly against my chest.
Giving into temptation, I lean down and press a gentle kiss to her bare shoulder.
"Morning, baby."
She stirs, a low hum vibrating through her body as she stretches against me like a cat. The movement drags her ass directly against my erection, and I bite back a groan.
"Mmm, good morning," she mumbles, voice still thick with sleep. Instead of pulling away, she deliberately presses back harder, a smile curving her lips when my breath catches. "Very good morning, apparently."
I should make a joke, should ease back, should do anything but what I actually do, which is to grip her hip with one hand, holding her against me for a brief, tortuous moment before I release her.
"Sorry," I mutter, trying to put some space between us. "Just a natural reaction. I didn't mean to—"
Her hand finds mine where it rests on her stomach. "Don't apologize," she says softly, suddenly sounding much more awake. "I like knowing I affect you."
Before I can respond, she deliberately guides my hand downward.
"Mia," I breathe, uncertain if I should pull away or press forward. After yesterday, after her breakdown, I don't want to take advantage of her vulnerability.
She turns her head to look at me over her shoulder, green eyes clear and certain. There's no desperation there, no frantic need to escape pain through physical sensation. Just want, pure and simple.
"I just want to feel you," she says, as if reading my thoughts.
That's all I need to hear. My fingers slide lower, finding her already drenched. With a sigh, her eyes flutter closed and I trace gentle circles around her clit, learning what makes her breath catch, what makes her hips buck against my hand.
"Sebastian," she breathes, and hearing my name on her lips like that is my new fucking addiction.
I press my lips to her neck as my fingers continue their exploration. She's so responsive, so beautifully honest in her reactions. When I slip a finger inside her, she gasps, her internal muscles immediately clenching around the intrusion.
"More," she demands, voice breathy and strained.
I add a second finger, curling them forward to find that spot that makes her back arch, while my thumb continues its circles around her clit. She's so wet, so hot around my fingers, and the soft, helpless sounds she makes drive me insane with want.
"You're so beautiful like this," I murmur against her ear, nipping gently at the lobe. "So perfect."
Her hand comes up to tangle in my hair, pulling me down for a kiss that's messy and uncoordinated from this angle but perfect nonetheless. I can feel her body tensing, her thighs beginning to tremble as I increase the pressure and speed of my touch.
"That's it," I encourage, breaking the kiss to watch her face. "Let me see you, baby."
She turns more fully onto her back, giving me better access as my fingers continue their rhythm. Her eyes lock on mine, pupilsblown wide with pleasure, lips parted on panting breaths. And fuck, there's nothing more beautiful than watching my girl come undone like this.
My desperate need to taste her has me lowering my head to take a nipple into my mouth. Sucking hard as my fingers drive deeper, is all it takes. She cries out, back arching off the bed as she comes. I work her through it, easing the pressure gradually as the aftershocks ripple through her.
When she finally relaxes, boneless and breathing hard, I withdraw my hand and press a gentle kiss to her forehead. The smile she gives me is lazy and oh so fucking satisfied.
"Good morning to you too," I say, unable to keep the smugness from my voice.
She laughs, the sound lighter than anything I've heard from her since Cheryl died. It wraps around my heart and squeezes tight.
"Oh, we're not done yet," she says, and before I can process her words, she turns fully in my arms, one hand sliding down my chest with clear intent. "Not even close."
Her eyes are bright, fevered almost, as she pushes me flat against the mattress. There's a purposeful grace to her movements when she straddles me. And when the morning light catches in her wild curls, creating a halo of fire around her face, my breath catches in my throat.
I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
