Page 63 of Sully

I wanted to stay awake.

Because as much as those ugly thoughts in my head wanted to make me feel weird about what happened in the glass room, they were now drowned out by other ones. Ones that were overjoyed that Sully clearly wanted me back, that it wasn’t just a heat-of-the-moment thing, that this was actually happening.

Unfortunately, though, I’d always been someone who went to bed somewhat early. And the late nights at the clubhouse were catching up to me.

I’d barely gotten a chance to brush my teeth and wash my face before I fell into the bed, out cold in minutes.

It was crummy sleep, though. I was back in my nightmares, only now they had a new locale: the clubhouse. As per usual, just to add some extra spicy terror, there was no light. And a faceless man was chasing me through the only partially familiar territory, his breath warm on my neck, his hands reaching out to…

“You’re alright,” Sully murmured, reaching to roll me onto my side. “I got you. No creepy dream demon stands a chance against me. Though, I’m pretty sure holy water might burn metoo at this point,” he added, making the traces of the dream fall away as I smiled at him.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Hey.”

He looked surprisingly well-rested. Clearly, he’d been able to climb into bed without waking me at some point. But maybe he’d been beside me for longer than I’d realized.

“What time is it?”

Sully leaned up, glancing past me at the nightstand. “Just after six.”

“What time did you come in?”

“Two-ish.”

“You need more sleep,” I said, trying not to be disappointed about that fact when I was fully rested and ready to spend more time with him.

“Nah,” he said, his fingers still on my hip, digging in a bit.

“Four hours isn’t enough.”

“More than enough,” he countered, ducking his head down, his breath warm on my neck. “Besides, I have something I need more than sleep.”

“What’s that?” I asked, a shiver moving through my belly as his lips pressed into the skin just under my ear.

“You,” he said, rolling onto his back, pulling me over him, then sealing his lips to mine.

My body moved on pure instinct, legs parting to straddle him, my hands reaching to frame his face.

His lips grew hungrier under mine, demanding more, even as his hands slid down my back to sink into my butt, pulling down, grinding me against his already straining need.

There was no stopping the whimper of need that moved through me, making me break the kiss and press my forehead to Sully’s as his hips rocked up against me.

Heat bloomed through me, sparked, caught, burned until it threatened to consume me completely.

Sully sat up, making his cock press against me again even as his hand went to the back of my neck, fingers nearly crushing in as his lips took mine again.

Hard.

Almost bruising.

And I loved that he didn’t think that he needed to be gentle with me, that because I was a little shy, a bit unsure of myself at times, that I was somehow breakable.

My desire was just as bold and demanding as anyone else’s. And, if anything, his slipping hold on his control was just what I needed to reassure me if one of those pesky, insecure thoughts arose.

Sully’s teeth snagged my lower lip, biting and pulling until a whimper escaped me, half pain, half pleasure.

My hips writhed against him, letting him know how much I liked his lack of control.

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