Silva and the Stars

16 | I don't feel like sleeping

I place my phone on the bedside table and sit on the edge of the bed. I can hear Rachel's gentle breaths in the darkness.

I could wake her now.

Knowing Rachel, she would want to receive this information sooner rather than later in order to prepare for tomorrow.

But as I slip under the covers, I tell myself that waking her up now is a dick move. It's probably close to 3 am. Whatever I want to say can wait until the morning.

When I shift in the bed, she rouses just enough to reach her hand out toward me.

"Jon?" Her voice comes out in a mumble.

I capture her hand in mine, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her palm. "I'm here."

A warm smile curves her mouth. "Good," she murmurs, her limbs going lax again.

I shift myself closer to her warmth, wanting comfort, wanting solace.

Wanting her.

She snuggles closer as well, her head nestling in my chest. A little ball of happiness swells inside me. After this morning's revelations, all I want to do is chase that feeling and the temporary relief it provided.

I crave the sweet release I know she can bring.

I'm so focused on Rachel tucked against me, I immediately notice a subtle shift in her breathing. Everything stops as her hand slips under my shirt and crests over my hip, igniting a burning trail in her wake. My blood pumps through me in anticipation.

"Rachel..." My voice is gravelly. My need for her pulsing the blood in my body south. I keep my hands by my sides, resisting the urge to touch her.

She whispers, "I don't feel like sleeping right now."

"What do you feel like doing?"

Instead of answering with words she arcs into me, her breasts pressing into my chest, her lips meeting mine. She kisses me, soft and sweet. It's tender and honest in the darkness. It's like nothing I've ever felt, and yet, at the same time, it feels like I'm coming home.

There's an added intensity to our kiss, as all the words I need to say pound through me, sending my pulse racing. Every kiss, every fervent touch is tempered with desperation and need.

Her hands are in my hair, tugging me closer to her. She bites my bottom lip and a frisson of dark hunger runs through me. I groan.

My hands are mapping her shape, caressing her curves. I grab a handful of her ass and grind her against my length.

I'm throbbing, I don't think I've ever been this hard. I breathe heavily into her neck as I roll her over onto her back.

She gasps.

In the darkness, every low moan of pleasure is amplified. Her restless, lithe body moving against mine is all I'm aware of. Not the shadows in the room, the blankets spilling onto the floor, or the stars in the sky above watching knowingly. Laughing.

Her fingers draw up my abdomen, touching every groove in my abs. I suck in a breath. She helps to discard my shirt and I kick down my boxer-briefs until I'm naked in the sheets with her. The mattress squeaks under our combined movements.

When she runs her hands over my naked form, fingertips and palms gliding over my ass, back and shoulders, I pant for breath. Her touch sends electricity racing through my body until every nerve is crackling with pleasurable energy.

"I love... this." Her breath skates over my lips. It feels like an admission.

A flash of disappointment runs through me, and I kiss her, cutting off any further talk.