I hadn’t wanted to wake him, but he’d looked so adorable sleeping in my bed I had to touch him. One thing led to another and I ended up pulling the comforter down to his hips and kissing him everywhere I could reach, my tongue tracing the intricate tattoo that snaked over his shoulder and down his arm.
When I heard him clear his throat and say my name I froze.
“What are you doing?” he asked with a sleepy, I-just-woke-up-to-someone-familiar-having-their-familiar-way-with-me voice.
I shrugged, continuing the trail of kisses along his beautiful torso. “I couldn’t resist.”
“You do this every morning,” he said, yawning.
“Do I?” I feigned innocence, pushing the comforter lower.
“I’m not complaining,” he murmured, turning onto his back and watching me. “It’s a pretty decent way to wake up every day.”
I looked up at him, raising my eyebrows and pulling the comforter down further.
We both glanced down at his prick, swollen and arching from a combination of morning wood and my gentle foreplay.
“He seems to agree with you,” I quipped, giving it a quick and chaste kiss that made it jump.
He groaned. “You tease.”
I grinned. “I’m just getting started, mister.”