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“It will get easier,” Z offers, resting his hand on my stomach under the cover.
His touch reassures me, so when he tries to take his hand away, I grab on like a lifeline.
“I know you said we needed to sleep on separate sides of the bed, but can you please stay close?”
“Rowan…”
“Please… it helps me sleep better.” I’m close to begging.
There is only one bed that’s even close to being usable in the cabin, which is just fine with me. Z, on the other hand, had tried to sleep on the floor in some old-fashioned show of chivalry.
I’m not stupid. I know he’s fighting the same magnetic pull I feel happening between us, and a part of me respects him for his resolve to keep things professional between us so he can focus on keeping us alive.
“Roll over,” he whispers as he scoots closer. Like the first night we slept in his bed at The Whitney, he lies behind me, spooning my back against his chest, letting his hand rest against my hip under the covers. His masculine scent wraps around me until I finally feel safe again in his version of a cocoon.
I’m afraid to close my eyes, not wanting the visions of JV in my room to return. Still, the panic I’d felt earlier has receded, leaving me lying awake, trying not to think of all of the horrible things that could happen if the Luciano family gets their way with me.
Z’s warm breath brushes near my ear as he tells me, “Go back to sleep.”
“I’m trying,” I lie, soaking in his warmth.
I don’t know what time it is, but it has to be getting close to dawn. There are no curtains on the dirty windows in the bedroom. The early morning glow seeps in, finally chasing away the demons that had been haunting my dreams, letting me fall back into a fitful sleep.
The next time I wake up, there’s one bright ray of sunshine beaming into the room, somehow peeking through the thick trees surrounding the cabin. I’m confused at how such a small slice of sunlight could be making me so hot, but then the wall of muscle behind me pulls me tighter in his slumber.
I lie as still as possible, listening to Z’s slow and steady breathing, happy to soak in his scent… his warmth… Being snug against his hard body makes me feel petite and protected, allowing me to doze in and out of slumber until one specific part of his hard body makes it impossible to stay asleep.
The feel of Z’s morning hard-on pressing against my ass is exactly the kind of wake-up call I could get used to. I suspect he’s still asleep as his hips begin rocking, rubbing against me hard enough that my insides melt with a wave of sexual desire. If I were stronger, I’d shake him awake—give him an opportunity to roll away and tuck that big boy of his away. But I’m tired of trying to be strong.
Instead, I drag my foot backwards, wrapping it over his legs, locking our bodies together as I press my ass back against his growing cock, enjoying his groan of desire against my ear.
Holding my breath, I wait for the moment that he becomes awake enough to try to pull away from me, but it doesn’t come. Instead, I feel his calloused hand snaking under my camisole, palming my bare stomach on the way up to my breast. His touch is gentle. It leaves me wanting so much more.
When his fingers lightly pinch my nipple, I moan, “Yes…” hoping to encourage his exploration. He doesn’t disappoint, pinching harder before moving his hand to explore my other tit.
Not sure how much time we’ll have before he tries to retreat again, I snake my free hand backwards, sliding my fingers between my ass and his hardness, rubbing him through his boxer briefs until his body starts humping in a dirty rhythm. His breathing picks up its pace just as I grope for his bare cock, shoving his boxers lower until I feel him spring free against my body.
I want him inside me, but he has other plans. Holding me in our spooning position, Z’s fingers trail down from my bust, sliding under the elastic waist of my panties.
“Oh shit, yes….” I cry out the second his fingers slide through my wet slit, brushing against my neglected clit and sending a zing of electricity through my whole body. I thrust my hips forward in an attempt to get his fingers inside me, but his touch is soft—teasing—inching my excitement higher with each second he makes me wait.
I throw my head back, nuzzling my hair into his neck just as his fingers dip inside me. My palm wraps around his shaft in appreciation as I try to stroke up and down. He’s thick, and impossibly hard, and as much as I’m turned on by our early morning exploration of each other’s bodies, what I really want is for him to roll me over and claim me. To thrust into me so hard that every inch of my body will feel him for the rest of the day.
