Lion and Lace [Tom Hiddleston]

Episode 11

Tom Hiddleston naked in the early morning light is a sight to behold. He has one arm outstretched under my neck and the other is bent with his hand under his head. He's breathing softly in his sleep and nothing moves except for the rise and fall of his toned chest under the pale filtered light. My nose and mouth are just millimetres from the side of his chest and I have the urge to taste his skin with my tongue. I move quietly and deliberately so as not to wake him, propping myself on one arm. I'm sure we went to sleep under the covers but somehow during the night our body heat has made them unnecessary, and he's lying on his back completely exposed.

His face is relaxed but his thin pink lips have the slightest hint of a smile, his features softened with sleep contrasting with the rough stubble taking over his jaw. His face is turned slightly toward me and it casts a shadow over his long freckled neck and that lovely dip where his clavicles meet, his shoulders are flexed and strong and I can see every muscle through his skin. The bicep curled to support his head is well-worked and powerful, and I know he is so much stronger than he appears when he's clothed.

That beautiful chest, lean and muscled with its random splatter of tiny fine dark hair, his pink-brown nipples soft and smooth, rising and falling with his breath and his ribs expanding and moving under his skin. Tom has the most exquisite abs, and even though I know they're relaxed now I can see their outline like an anatomy model taken straight from a textbook and brought to life.

I count the freckles on his torso, resting the urge to mark them with a kiss as I go, and finally my eyes fall on that happy little trail that leads down from his navel. I'm almost having to bite my fingers at this point, I so badly want to touch him, but I don't want to wake him. His legs are splayed slightly and relaxed but I'm sure his thighs must be as rock hard as when he's standing and I can follow the outline of the muscle with my eyes. Tom's legs are so long they reach almost to the end of the bed, he has one knee bent and I wonder if it's habit from his toes always touching the end.

My eyes are drawn back up to his hips, his cock lays soft against a soft bed of hair but even as I'm watching it stirs momentarily and I have to stifle a giggle behind my hand. I rest my head back on his arm and lay a hand gently on his chest and let it wander, and when he doesn't stir I let my fingers trace every contour and every muscle, every soft patch of relaxed flesh. My nose presses against his chest and I breathe in his spicy, musky scent and kiss him lightly.

My own naked body is pressed against Tom's side, uncovered and exposed, and as my hand roams I feel my nipples harden against him and a heat stirring between my thighs. While I watch him sleep I see his erection grow quickly and when I trace a finger over his scrotum it stands proudly upward.

Finally he stirs, a small groan coming from his throat, and pulls me against him before sinking back into sleep.

I carefully extract myself and move down his body, straddling his straight leg and taking pains not to touch him until I am in position. I bend and touch my tongue to the base of his cock, licking up his shaft slowly, my hand gently cupping his sack. I watch Tom's face frown a little as he groans again and inhales sharply. The veins are like road bumps under my tongue as I lick up his length again in a long smooth motion and then take his tip between my lips and kiss, sucking down to the ridge of his head.

My hand strokes and squeezes his balls gently and I rub a finger toward his ass before exchanging it with my mouth, taking his cock in my hand and kissing the puckered skin softly. As I stroke his erection I suck his balls gently and his head lifts off the pillow with a gasp.

"Fuck, Rebecca."

I used to hate anyone using my full name and it's been a long time since anyone familiar has done so, but the way Tom says it with such lust and desire and a hint of reprimand turns me to putty.