asleep being snuggled by him.
Chapter Twelve
“Good morning, gorgeous,” Andrew says as he leans over me.
He’s smiling, and somehow he’s glowing.
I blink slowly, bringing him into focus. Am I dreaming? Surely this can’t be for real?
“Did you sleep well?” Andrew asks then his head dips and his lips brush against mine in a tender sweep.
Damn, he tastes good. My arms go up and wrap around his neck. He tries to lift his head, but I pull him closer and deepen the kiss. He chuckles against my mouth.
If this is a dream I never want to wake up.
His morning stubble scratches my chin. He groans as I open my mouth in invitation. His tongue meets mine and it’s as if I was just struck by lightning. My muscles tense, my breath hitches, and my belly tightens in anticipation.
He lowers the rest of his body down on top of me. His weight has me sinking into his soft, expensive mattress. I love the weight of him. I love how it feels with him coming down on top of me. I love how it feels as if I’m trapped beneath him.
Suddenly I realize we are both naked.
This is going to be a good dream.
Andrew’s knee nudges at my knee. He finds just enough space to slip his leg in between my legs and I spread.
He fits perfectly.
His kiss deepens, his tongue begins to move with a sense of urgency. I can’t resist it. I struggle to keep up with his strokes and pulls. He’s so needy, so hungry.
I feel his hardness slide against me. I want it, badly. At this moment, I want nothing more to have him inside me. To be connected to him again.
He groans into my mouth and moves himself against me. I find myself bucking my hips, moving with him.
Get inside me, I want to tell him but there’s no mercy to be had from his lips. He just keeps me there, quivering on the edge. Burning. Aching. Throbbing. His grinds himself into me.
Suddenly a loud, air raid siren sounds, nearly scaring me half to death.
Andrew curses and tears his lips away from mine. He rolls off of me and I sit up in bed, clutching my chest.
“What the fuck?” I gasp.
My heart is hammering, pounding so hard it hurts. I’m going to get a stitch.
Andrew fumbles with something on his nightstand. The alarm stops but my ears are still ringing.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. Hunching over, he rakes his fingers through his hair.
A minute passes as we both catch our breath. My heart starts to slow. I consider scooting closer to him. I have the strongest urge to reach out and run my fingers along the smooth expanse of his bent back.
“I’m sorry,” Andrew says and stands from the edge of the bed. “I have to go to work.”
My jaw drops in disbelief as I watch him walk gloriously naked to his closet and disappear inside it.
Work? He’s just going to get dressed and go to work, leaving me hanging?
I feel cheap all of a sudden. I grab up the blanket from the bed and wrap it around myself. I squeeze my thighs together. I’m going to need a shower. A very cold shower.
I don’t know where my clothes are. I think they’re on the floor. I scoot to the edge of the bed and begin to search for them.
Andrew reappears. He’s now dressed smartly in dark pants and a crisp white shirt. He’s straightening a blue tie at his neck as he walks back in.
“I’m sorry, babe.” He stops near me. “You know how my dad is…”
Slowly, I drag my eyes up his body. The resentment bubbling inside me begins to fade. I do know how his dad is. I want to be angry at Andrew for getting me worked up, but I understand. I understand all too well being under that man’s thumb. I can’t hold it against him, even if my body is throbbing mad.
“It’s okay,” I say softly as my eyes meet his.
Andrew frowns, concerned. He reaches out and tenderly strokes my cheek. Even now, I want to purr like a cat and rub against him.
“Are you sure?”
I nod my head.
His fingers start to trail down my cheek. He follows the line of my jaw, then runs them along my neck. They tug at the top