I can’t see him, but I canfeelhis gaze. His fingertips find my belly. Feather-light, he draws a smallOacross my stomach. Then aP.
Is he spelling Ophelia? OrOphelia and Phantom? I don’t know. Don’t care. My nipples are tight. My labia swelling and burning.
“Ophelia,” he sighs, my name like a prayer. “What am I going to do with you?”
He traces that single finger down my middle. He maps my hip and my thigh. I want so badly to push my hips against him, to rut my swollen clit against his knuckles, but I don’t. I’m a good girl. I lay still and I take whatever I am given.
“Whatever you want, Sir,” I whisper.
His touch leaves suddenly, and a groan escapes my lips. He takes my nipple and gives a strong tug. I gasp, the shot of pain making my chest arch, and he says, “Don’t move.”
I force myself still and lock my jaw. So it’spainhe wants tonight. He tugs the other nipple. I expect it this time, forcing myself still, but it makes me whimper all the same.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, and my heart does a flip. “Do you know how much I’ve missed you?” There’s the sound of rustling fabric. He’s taking off his clothes. The bed compresses, and I feel him climbing in. “Slide over,” he tells me, so I roll onto my side. Phantom’s body slips in beside me. He’s mostly naked, bare skin furnace-hot against mine. The hard muscles of his chest press against my back. He’s wearing briefs, but when he grips my hip and slots my ass against him, I can feel the lovely swell of him, rock-hard and all mine.
My body is primed—ready to be used. Ready to be fucked. Ready to be teased and tortured and played with. But then Phantom locks me into his arms and suddenly?—
Everything fits into place.
I feelsafe. So safe. I didn’t realize how much I needed this feeling.
“God, you feel good,” Phantom says. I’ve heard him say those words before, with that same heat, only then he had histhrobbing cock buried deep inside of me. Now, when he says it, he’s holding me. Cuddling. This intimacy…it satisfies something we’ve clearly both gone too long without.
His rough, dark edges suddenly soften. He threads one arm underneath me and hugs me tightly to him. His hug turns into an anaconda-squeeze. He kisses my neck. My shoulder.
But not horny, hungry kisses.
Sweetkisses. Can’t-get-close-enough kisses.
I tilt my head. “Sir…?”
“I know.” His voice is tight. “Just give me a second.”
He buries his face in my hair. I hear him inhale deeply, as though savoring my scent.
“God,” he mumbles. “I needed this.”
The backs of my eyes sting. I suddenly feel like I’m about to cry. “Me too,” I say, but my voice is barely a whisper. To myself, I think:Mandatory cuddle time.
We lay together in the dark. I listen to the rhythmic sounds of his breaths. I inhale that deep, familiar smell of him. I snuggle myself into his strong, protective embrace.
I don’t mean to fall asleep, but I feel so safe for the first time in days, maybe months, and my entire nervous system stops trying to hold itself up. His presence gives me permission to fall apart, and sleep takes me like snuffing out a candle.
When I wake up, Phantom’s head is on my chest. His arms are still tight around my middle, as though he spent all night clinging to me.
I feel…oddly cherished.
I linger in bed. Phantom’s breath rises and falls in a lovely, deep way. He sleeps like a man who hasn’t slept in months.The light bleeding in through my curtains highlights the grey in his curls. I stroke his hair, loving the way it feels between my fingers.
Now,thisis a new one.
Phantom has come to my apartment before. We’ve played. Fucked. But he’s never come overjust to cuddle. Apparently, the breakup has rearranged his priorities.
I trail my fingers down the nape of his neck. I trace the freckles that dust his back. The curve of his bicep. The hair on his forearms. He is all man, and, in this moment, all mine. I pull that strong hand to my lips and press a kiss to his fingers, and then to his forehead.
My dom is adorable when he’s soft and sleepy.
My dom. One night of cuddles, and I’ve reverted back to thinking of him like that.
