There’s not even the edge of her breath skating out. It’s only making me more irritated. I’m mad at everything and nothing. There’s nothing in this room to really be mad at. Yet there’s everything in this room to be pissed at. My confusion is making me mad. Everything on the island is making me mad. Cyrus being within touching distance but not touching me is really driving mefucking mad. And her sleep deprived voice is making me want to break.
More growls threaten to break through as my hands form fists beneath the sheets. I’m prepared to go into a full blown temper tantrum. Or jump her bones.I don’t fucking know.
“You want me to get into the bed?”
Oh forfuck sakes.
“For crying out loud, get up here. Now.”
The command works. Within seconds, Cyrus is climbing up onto the bed and sliding under the covers beside me.
She takes a second to get comfortable, laying on her back and laying as straight as possible.
My fists uncurl, even as frustration still claws away at me. Her heat slowly seeps into my side, warming me. It’s a sensation that I’ve sincerely missed, one that will never be replicated by another person. This feeling only works with her.
I want to curl into her, instead I hold back.
I let my feelings be known, she knows where I stand, but I don’t know where she stands.
“Is this okay?” She asks, and I want to screamno.
Instead, I say, “Yeah.”
Forcing my eyes closed and simply enjoying her presence next to me. Slowly, the irritation and madness dissipates and the night falls away with it.
Sunlight filters in, warming my back as I bury my face closer into my pillow, not ready to wake up yet.
A soft groan radiates beneath me, vibrating through my cheek bone. A gentle weight rests around my shoulder and waist, squeezing softly, pulling me closer into the pillow. Which once again isn’t a pillow, but Cyrus’s chest.
Boobs really do make the best pillows, don’t they?
I sigh into her shirt. I shouldn’t be surprised I moved in my sleep to cuddle with her.
The arms around me tighten incrementally, as I burrow further into the boobs that work as my pillows. How I wish I could wake up like this every day.
Her sea salt scent envelopes me, my thighs dampening immediately.
Ishouldn’twant to, Ishouldn’tneed to.
But I both want and need her.
My hips rut forwards of their own accord, bashing into hers in search of friction. I feel Cyrus’s nose press into my crown and lips grazing kisses over the strands at the top of my head.
“Morning.” She mumbles into my scalp, laying more kisses there. She’s so soft and gentle and pliant, I want to give her orders.
My hips cant forward once more and she muffles a chuffing laugh in my hair.
Can I really just say fuck it and have sex with her once more? Or will it only damage my heart even deeper?
With the way her fingers skim over my skin and lips continue leaving kisses over my head, I know it’ll hurt, but I need one more. Just the chance at once more.
“One more time. Then we never touch each other again,” I rasp out.
Cyrus stills for a moment, not even her exhales hit my skin, before she sighs. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“One more time.” The words are certain, more certain than I actually feel.
“Then tell me what you want me to do.”
