I woke up feeling groggy and disoriented, my mind still fuzzy with sleep. I tried to blink my eyes open, but the sunlight streaming through the curtains was too bright, and I closed them again. I lifted my head, trying to get my bearings, and that's when I felt him.
He was sleeping next to me, fully naked his body stretched out beside mine, his arm thrown possessively over my waist. I lay still for a moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into mine.
I remembered the events of the night before, my mind replaying snippets of memories. The music, his touch, the intensity of the pleasure. I shivered at the memories, my body responding to them with a small thrill of desire.
I shifted slightly, moving a little closer to him, wanting to feel the warmth of his body. As I did so, his arm tightened around me, pulling me closer to him, his curly strands covering his face, and his lips being slightly parted made me fight the urge insideme to plant a kiss on them.
I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. It was a soothing sound, proving that he was real, that he was here with me. I closed my eyes, feeling contentment settle over me like a warm, cozy blanket.
I wonder if that is the teenage love they always talk about in movies. I wanted to stay in his arms forever, even if it meant not going back home. He made me feel loved, even if it was fake. I'm willing to risk it all.
He looked down at me, his eyes bleary with sleep. "Good morning," he mumbled, his voice low and thick with sleep.
"Good morning," I answered, my voice just as thick and groggy. "Did you sleep well?" I whispered as I moved a strand of his hair behind his ears.
"Mmm, very well," he murmured and continued drawing lazy, soothing circles on my back. "You're very comfortable to sleep next to."
I hummed my agreement, feeling a warm flush spread across my cheeks at his compliment. "So are you," I said. "You're like a space heater."
He chuckled, the sound deep and sleepy. "Is that a compliment, Doll?" he asked, his tone teasing.
It seems like Doll is my nickname now, and honestly, I'm not complaining.
"It's a compliment," I replied, feeling bold. "You're like a big, warm, cuddly teddy bear."
He laughed again, the sound more awake and more genuinely amused this time. "A teddy bear, huh?" he said. "Not sure if I should be insulted or flattered by that comparison."
"Flattered," I told him, grinning. "Definitely flattered. Teddy bears are great. Soft, cuddly, comfy."
"Mmm, I suppose you make a valid point," he conceded, his fingers trailing up and down my spine. "I'll take that compliment, then. But only because I'm in a good mood."
He reached over to the bedside table, where a pack of cigarettes and a lighter were sitting. I watched as he took a cigarette from the pack and placed it between his lips. He then picked up the lighter and flicked it, creating a small flame. In one smooth motion, he lit the cigarette and took a long, slow drag, his gaze never leaving mine.
He exhaled a plume of smoke and then took another drag, his eyes half lidded and intense. I felt my heart race at the sight, the combination of his sleepy eyes and the cigarette between his lips igniting something primal within me.
"You're staring, Doll," he said, his voice a low, amused rumble. "Like what you see?"
I felt my cheeks flush, realizing that I had indeed been staring. But I didn't look away, instead meeting his gaze defiantly. "Maybe I do," I replied, my voice more confidence than it had any right to be.
