Page 43 of Hearts at War

I was embraced, but not confined.

For the first time in my life, in all my existence, I realized how much of a liar I had been all along.

I was a cuddler.

I sighed, deeply, burrowing closer as if no hug could ever be tight enough.

Hair tickled my face, but I didn’t want to brush it away. Angling higher, nestling closer and keeping this fit against this hot, hard body, I tried to fuse myself to him.

Never before had I felt this secure. Never before had I belonged, like a matching puzzle piece that just fit without explanation.

No. You’re dreaming.

The semi-lucid thought didn’t last. Vague and surreal, I refused to let that thought sink in.

He exhaled, long and slow like he wasn’t just a hulking, strong man but a lazy animal. A predator, for sure, but at rest, relaxing as I was.

One big hand lay on my back. Or was that the weight of the blanket.

You’re dreaming...

Again, the clear thought didn’t click.

Instead, seeking more of the delicious burn of his body under mine, his warmth pressing against my side, I surrendered to the exciting sensations like the tug in my belly, the pricks of awareness in my hard nipples.

Arousal.

That was what it was.

Images shifted in my hazy mind’s eye. Actions changed. Bodies moved, skin rubbed, bare in an exquisite friction. That hard prominence gave me some relief, but the more I ground against him, pressing my core there to get the full hit of contact, it cleared. The naughty but oh-so-good hints of arousal and pleasure seemed further from reach.

Like wisps, vanishing.

It had been too long. Relief was nonexistent in my life. Pleasure was a forgotten rarity. I’d only known hardships and abuse, mental torture and grievances.

No. Don’t go.

Nothing moved. His hot body stayed there, but mentally, I lost the sensation of this connection that threaded me to him through the night.

I want...

I slid higher, seeking him.

I want more.

I moved my head, searching for this hard lips that smirked at me too often.

I want you.

Pressing my lips to his, I moaned at the tipping point of caving. I gave up. I forfeited in this fight to resist him. Sluggish but charged by lust, I kissed him again.

And again.

Like the rest of him, his lips were firm. But also soft. Hard and unrelenting, but also so smooth and addicting.

More.

I sighed, turning my head to have a better contact without smashing my nose too hard.