u/w0rmingaround

Her eyes fluttered open — immediately squinted, irritated by the light. Somewhere in the room, a clock ticked. Tick. Tick. Tick. She didn't know when she'd fallen asleep after coming back from work. Well, she was really tired. That much she remembered. She'd changed out of her work clothes into something breathable, and just… lay down on the sofa. Just for a minute, maybe two.

Hmm but now there was a blanket over her. She didn't remember that.

She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms. A yawn cracked her jaw open. The room came into focus in pieces — the lamp glowing low in the corner, and him....He was sitting on the other couch. Legs spread out comfortably. A coffee cup in one hand. A book in the other. His eyes moved across the pages the way water moves over stones. She could smell the faint, bitter sweet scent of coffee drifting through the air.

Coffee? At this hour?

She made a face to herself. Who drinks coffee this late? Weirdo. Her weirdo.

Well whatever. She let her gaze crawl back to him again. The way his hands wrapped around the cup like he was holding something precious. The way his fingers flipped the pages delicately. Aww his face was so soft. Relaxed in a way it never was during the day. But those dark, dark eyes were sharp and Intense. They moved back and forth, back and forth, devouring every line. His lips moved just slightly, reading to himself. The way he was sitting. The slope of his shoulders. The soft lamplight pooling in the hollow of his throat. The way his thumb pressed into the spine of the book. The way his chest rose and fell with each breath.

Every single thing.

She bit her bottom lip. A smirk curled up from somewhere deep in her chest and spread across her face like honey.

Oh look, she thought, and the thought came out syrupy and slow. Ohh, my sweetheart is so handsome!

The wind must have heard her. It whispered in through the window, lifting his hair, nudging the light across his face. Then it caught her too — sweeping the fallen locks from her temple, a cool brush on her neck making her eyes flutter shut, a pleasant tingle rippled across her skin.

"Ohh you're awake."

He spoke while glancing at her, then back at his book again.

Suddenly and quite dramatically she threw the blanket off.

She tried to do it as elegantly as possible — a sweep of her arm, The fabric sliding away like a curtain revealing something precious. It pooled at her knees, then fell to the side. There was something delightfully messy about it which he loved a lot. Like a cat stretching after a long nap, showing off without pretending she wasn't.

"Mmh I want cuddless " She murmured low and sleepy "I feel very..."

She let the sentence hang in the air unfinished as she rubbed her feet together — that instinctive, restless motion when your nerves are fried, your blood is hot and your body doesn't know what to do with itself. Her one arm smoothed down her frock where it had bunched around her thighs. Her other arm stretched out toward him, one finger pointing at his chest like an accusation or an invitation?

He raised his brows in amusement. Well just a second ago he was deep dived into his book. But his eyes flickered up in curiousity again and stayed there this time.

He chuckled warmly, a sonorous sound that seemed to vibrate through the room. He lifted the book to cover his face with it like someone who'd just been seen and didn't know what to do with it. His shoulders shaking, she could hear the quiet laughter he was trying to hide. His back ached from the couch. The shadows under his eyes visible. But he was also very entertained now.

"Oh, come on." She grinned, wide and wicked. "Look at me."

She raised her knee as her back arched, just enough to make the lamplight catch the curve of her waist, the swell of her chest. She brought her index finger to her mouth and bit down on it.

"Look at me. I'm so ripe."

The word stretched between them.

Her voice dropped lower, breathier. "Touch me. Eat me."

He took his time to lower the book and look at her. His eyes met hers first — something flickering behind them like a flame catching. Then his gaze traveled downward, from her eyes to her lips, still pressed around her finger. From her lips to the way her body curved like a bow pulled taut. From head to toe, from head to toe. Like he was tasting her from across the room. Damn. He swallowed hard. She was so beautiful.

"Hmm!" He tilted his head "Well well, interesting."

He closed the book. Set it aside on the arm of the couch.

"I might have to taste you, then."

He played along as he unfolded himself from the couch and stood up. She couldn't help it. Her whole face lit up with it.

"Come here, come here, kitten—" she teased, waving her finger at him.

He laughed helplessly and walked toward her. Stopped right in front of the couch and towered over her where she lay sprawled across the cushions, looking up at him with her chin tilted.

His smile so tender, that made her chest ache. He leaned down. His fingers found her nose — playfully giving it a little pinch. "Naughty!"

Then a boop. Right on the tip. She scrunched her nose, her whole face collapsing into a grin.

His smile softened into a knowing smirk as his finger — the same one that had booped her nose just seconds ago — traced a path downward. From the tip of her nose, down the bridge, over the curve of her upper lip.

She closed her eyes, feeling the lightness of his touch. Her whole body seemed to lean toward him.

Playfully, Her teeth closed around his finger to bit him.

"Ouch!" He winced, half grimacing, half smiling. Oops! Guess she bit him quite hard.

"Patience, sweetheart." He teased her right back, and she chuckled while looking up at him. Her eyes half lidded, lips still parted.

"Hmmm...." His voice dropped lower. Rumbled up from somewhere deep in his chest. "So what were you saying?"

His finger trailed from her lips to her jaw. From her jaw down the side of her neck so slow like he was painting something on her skin..

"Touch you? Eat you? "

Her eyes closed again. Every nerve in her body was focused on that single point of contact — the place where his finger moved against her like a question she desperately wanted to answer.

"Hmm..." Her voice came out low and melted. " Everywhere..."

She gasped. Barely audible — just a small catch in her throat as his finger traced lower. From her neck to her chest. From her chest to the soft valley between her breasts. He followed the neckline of her frock like he was reading a map only his hands understood.

"Everywhere..." he whispered.

His fingers trailed across the fabric of her clothes — not underneath, not yet. Just enough pressure for her to feel the shape of his touch. Her skin tingled beneath the thin barrier of her dress. Electricity....Yes that's what it felt like. Like tiny sparks racing from his fingertips to her spine, lighting her up from the inside.

"Mmm!" She hummed in agreement.

His finger traced lower. Over her stomach — she sucked in a breath without meaning to, her muscles tightening beneath his touch. Then lower. His fingers trailed from her belly button down, down, until he reached the hem of her frock. He pushed the fabric up just enough and pressed the flat of his palm and fingers between her thighs, grinding in sweet torture.

"Ahh—"

She squirmed immediately. Her body answered before her mind could — a tremble in her legs, a flutter in her chest, a ache so sweet it almost hurt. Her fingers found his forearm immediately, gripping it hard. He leaned down a bit more and kissed her cheek sweetly.

His lips brushed her skin as he spoke. "Mm you sound so cute."

His breath warm against her ear.

"And sexy."

She bit her lip in shyness, a sudden rush of heat to her cheeks, the strange and wonderful feeling of being seen. She couldn't say anything at all. So she grabbed his face instead. Her palms pressed against his jaw, holding him like he might disappear. She pulled him close with all her force, urgently pressing kisses on his lips, his face.

"You're cuterrrr" she cooed, all gooey and affectionate.

He chuckled against her mouth, his cheeks flushing red beneath her hands.

"Hehe, Let's go to the bedroom, shall we?"

His voice was warm and suggesting.

She pulled back just just enough to look at his face. She nodded lightly. "Oh, yes and pick me up pwese!"

"Okiee, my sugar! Mwah " He pecked her lips and smiled so tenderly his eyes disappeared into little half moons.

Then he picked her up. One arm slid under her knees, the other behind her back. He lifted her like she weighed everything which he'd been waiting his whole life to hold.

She giggled while kicking her feet. Wrapped her arms around his neck and held on like a koala, her face buried against his shoulder for just a second before she pulled back to look at him again. She loosened one arm from around his neck and brought her hand up, trailing a finger along his nose, then tracing the curve of his lips. Ohh the way they just have been on hers! Her lips brushed the shell of his ear as she leaned closer.

"You look so sexy, and me, I also feel so sexy." she sighed, melting boneless in his arms.

"Ohh! careful, dear." He bounced her once to steady his hold. "So sexy hm? we'll see more about that after a while." He reached the bedroom door. Shifted her weight slightly in his arms. Then — kick — his knee connected with the door, pushing it open.

"How smoothhh huh" she raised her brow, pinching his nose.

He shrugged his shoulders playfully, carrying her inside. He kept her on the bed, on the soft cover and then hovered over her. He rested his weight on one elbow, his free hand catching hers, intertwining their fingers. She didn't wait to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him down. Their lips found eachother's again and again desperately. He tilted his head, slanting his mouth over hers to go deeper. And the hand she'd been holding, the one with their fingers intertwined — slipped away, only to bury itself in his hair, gripping hard. Heat bloomed through her chest, down her arms, between her legs, pulsing ache that made her arch into him without thinking. His response was immediate. A low sound rumbled from his throat, somewhere between a groan and a sigh. She felt him feel it — His heart hammered so hard she swore she could feel it in her own ribs. His hand fisted the bedsheet beside her head while hips pressing into hers. His breath came hot and uneven against her neck.

They were two people holding on for dear life and neither wanted to be saved.

Moral of the story:

Let the wind do its job, gng 🙏