Often (Book 1)

Chapter 14 - M

Hanni

Consciousness fluttered on the edge of my sleep-filled mind, and I tried to force it away. I didn't want to wake up. I was warm and comfortable and content.

Vague visions of my dream passed behind my closed eyes as I snuggled into the warmest, best-smelling blanket I'd ever slept in. It snuggled back.

Something warm pressed against me, and my eyes fluttered open to see a head of familiar messy hair inches from my face. A hundred images flashed through my mind in that second as the reality of last night came crashing down on my muddled brain.

Holy shit.

It was real.

My heart rate quickened as I lifted my head slightly to see the beautiful woman wrapped around me. Her head lay on my chest, her perfect mouth parted slightly, releasing puffs of warm air across my bare breasts. Her long body lay flush against mine, our legs tangled together and her arms wrapped tightly around my torso.

She stayed.

The intimacy of our position hit with a crushing force that actually took my breath away. She didn't just stay, she clung to me.

I struggled to find my breath and not panic. I was keenly aware of each inch of where our skin touched. I felt the powerful thump of her heartbeat against my chest. Her cock was pressed against my thigh, semihard in her sleep. My fingers burned to touch her. My lips ached to press against her hair. It was too much. She was too much.

Something changed last night and I wasn't sure I was ready to deal with it. I didn't know what that change entailed, but it was there. In every move, every touch, every word, and every kiss, we had been together. Nobody had ever made me feel that way, as if my body were made to fit her.

I'd been with other men, but with her I felt as if I was being carried away by a hidden undertow, completely unable to change the course. I closed my eyes, trying to quell the sense of panic that was building. I didn't regret what happened. It was—as always—intense and easily the best sex I'd ever had. I just needed a few minutes alone before I could face her.

Placing one hand into her hair and the other on her back, I managed to roll her off me. She began to stir and I froze, holding her close and silently willing her to go back to sleep. She mumbled my name before her breathing evened out again, and I slipped out from underneath her.

I watched her sleep for a moment, the panic receding somewhat, and was once again struck by just how gorgeous she was. Stilled by sleep, her features were tranquil and peaceful, and so very different from any expression she ever wore around me. A thick curl had fallen down across her forehead, and my fingers itched to brush it back. Long lashes, perfect cheekbones, full pouty lips, and a defined jaw.

Christ on a cracker, she's pretty.

I started to make my way to the bathroom but caught my reflection in the mirror over the bedroom vanity.

Wow. Freshly fucked. That was definitely how I looked.

Leaning in, I examined the small red scrapes that were scattered along my neck, shoulders, breasts, and stomach. A small bite mark was visible on the underside of my left breast, a hickey on my shoulder. Glancing down, I ran my fingers along the red marks on my inner thigh. My nipples hardened as I recalled the feeling of her face brushing along my skin.

My hair was a wild and tangled mess, and I bit my lip as I remembered her hands twisted in it. The way she pulled me first into her kiss and then onto her cock . . .

Not helping.

I was jolted out of my thoughts by a voice thick with sleep. "Awake and freaking out already?"