I had planned to sleep last night. I knew you were tired and was happy to lie with you, to let you hold me, to feel your warmth once more, seeping from your body into mine as we slept, your soft breasts pressed against my back, your slender arm around my waist, your warm breath moving the soft hairs at the nape of my neck. This is how we slept, for a time, but when your hands started to find me under the sheets, my mind quickly began to wake.
Driven from my slumber by your cool touch, your hand on my thigh, then fingertips ghosting back and forth, back and forth, back and forth over my centre, I slowly turned to see you lying on your side, sleeping, naked, dreaming. In the dim light cast from the street lamp filtering through the curtains I could see your pale skin, already covered in a light sheen of sweat, your lips moving silently, eyes still closed as your hand moved slowly over my folds.
My lips found your collarbone and my hands found your hips, pulling you closer to me, your already moist centre pressing against my thigh as I slid it between yours. You responded to my touch with a shift of your hips and a quiet, breathy moan.
We could have lain like that all night, touching and kissing and wanting and needing. Soft caresses and tender kisses, heated bodies moving against each other, gentle hands exploring, learning, touching and stroking, drawing out pleasure for hour after hour. There was no sound in the room other than breathing and kisses, but I needed you. I needed to be inside you.
You blinked your eyes half open as I pushed you onto your back, a small smile curling your lips as I moved over you, your legs parting even in your half-sleep, cradling my body between your thighs. A shift of my hips and a shift of my hand and I was pushing inside you, fire racing through my veins as your body relaxed and allowed me entry.
We lay still for a long moment, I watched your face as you let out a long, slow breath, feeling it warm on my lips as you exhaled. Then movement, warm, soft, slow, seemingly in slow-motion as our bodies pushed into each other, quietly building pressure, seeking pleasure. My fingers inside you, my thumb on your clit, your thigh between mine, we picked up a matching rhythm as we moved together, pressed close, this time like so many others before, giving and taking, pulses racing, lips searching, hands sliding over slick skin as we pushed closer, harder, faster.
Your sleepy moans became harsh cries as we moved together faster, my mouth open against your neck, rocking against your thigh, my own thigh pushing against my hand and driving into you, forcing the air from your lungs as my fingers forced into your wet warmth, pushing you into the bed, spurred on by your cries, searching for my own pleasure whilst giving you yours.
You lifted your hips as your back arched, your head thrashing on the pillow, body tensing and I heard you cry my name - Alex! - clenching tight around my fingers as you reached your shuddering orgasm. Hearing you speak my name, lost in the moment yet always aware of me is what drove me over the edge and I held you tighter, pressing deeper into you as the fire in my veins ignited and I came, fingers buried deep inside you, trying to push deeper still, desperately trying to become a part of you.
We rolled apart just moments later, unspeaking, the soft sounds of our breathing filling the room once more. Several minutes passed before I turned to you, the words I wanted to whisper remaining unsaid as I looked at you, already returned to your serene slumber. Sated now, a small smile still on your lips, I watched you sleep, and loved you just a little bit more.