He stopped.
Then he did it again.
Slower.
Deliberate.
I opened my eyes.
“Morning.”
“Don’t move.”
His voice was rough with sleep.
I froze completely.
“Pain?”
“No.”
“Nightmare?”
“No.”
His hand settled over mine at his stomach.
“I woke like this.”
“With me behind you?”
“With both of us hard.”
My pulse surged.
“All right.”
“I was touching myself.”
The words came softly.
His right arm moved beneath the blanket.
He was.
“Would you like privacy?”
“No.”
“Do you want my hand off you?”
“No.”
“Do you want anything else from me?”
He drew in a breath.
“Stay where you are.”
