Into the Specter

Chapter 22

(a/n) Pure smut ✨
cw: choking

Dreamless sleep fades slowly. The first thing you notice are the puffs of air on the back of your neck, warm and slow. The unmistakable texture of hotel sheets comes into your awareness next, cool against your cheek. You stretch, and a large body shifts behind you, pressing close.

Gradually opening your eyes, you see a swath of empty white before you. The doorway to a lavish bathroom is beyond that, across the room. Early morning sunlight filtering into the bedroom reflects off the opulent marble counters. You raise a brow, realizing it was not unreasonable to spend two minutes searching for the sinks in the dark last night. The counters are enormous, expansive. Sneaking out of bed to take off the wig and clean up had gotten very frustrating, very fast.

You unconsciously lean into the comfort of Flip's body behind you, remembering how you had angrily climbed back into the covers last night. Without wasting a second, he sleepily pulled at your shoulder, tugging you flush to his chest once again, slurring his words next to your ear. "Don't leave."

He was back asleep in an instant.

There is a deep inhale behind you. A nose nudges against the nape of your neck. You realize an arm is still around you when his embrace tightens. Heartbeat quickening, you raise your hand into the air, studying Flip's fingers threaded through yours with disbelief.

When the weight of his palm on the back of your hand becomes too heavy, your arm drops to the mattress, and his grasp slides away. There's a sleepy grunt at your ear. Your breaths start to come quicker. His fingers move, flexing against your midriff. The leg winded through yours pushes up, pressing between your thighs. Oh.

Of all the ways to start the day, waking up with tits in his hand has to be Flip's new favorite. "Fuck," he drowsily mutters, instinctively grinding his morning wood into your ass. A soft sigh makes its way to his ears, fully drawing him into the present moment. Your body fits perfectly against his. Feels so fucking right.

"Fuck," he repeats when you start to press back against his lazy thrusts. Eagerly, he kisses your shoulder and alternates his hand between your tits, squeezing to wake up the muscles in his hands. He hasn't even opened his eyes yet...some internal impulse warning him that if he does, this little piece of paradise will disappear.

To his delight, your hand reaches back and threads through the hair at his temple, pulling his face into your neck. Not wishing to disappoint, he kisses your skin with renewed affection, sucking and licking. "Ah," you sigh, dropping the weight of your arm. He must be mistaken, thinking he recognizes the feel of his flannel on his cheek.

The shock jolts his heart, forcing his eyes open. Sure enough, you are wearing his flannel. In bed next to him. And you're naked underneath, from what he can feel.

Fuck.

His hand greedily slides down the front of you, racing to play with that soft pussy. Reward you for being so fucking sexy. But, before his fingertips can even graze your belly button, you push back. The force of it is surprising enough to send him onto his back.

Whirling around quickly, you straddle him, a small smile on your lips. Flip blinks the sleep out of his eyes, cock twitching violently. There you are, flannel drifted off your shoulders, caressing his bare chest. Looking like a fucking goddess.

"You took it off," he breathes, referring to your wig. As good as you looked, he can't help but smile at seeing your real hair.

"Yes, I did." You kiss across his collarbones, steadily making your way down his chest.

Flip, hypnotized, runs his hands over your arms, neck, and cheeks. Your lips are at his stomach when he uses both palms to make you look at him. He scans your face, thumbs massaging your temples.