Page 328 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
I stir, my senses awakening slowly to the warmth pressed against my front.
Jade.
Her body is a furnace of heat. Her curves mold perfectly to mine, my arms tightly around her body. Her ass, firm and rounded, nestles against my groin, and even in my half-awake state, I’m acutely aware of her. My cock stirs, trapped between us, already hardening.
She’s awake before me. I don’t have to see to know. I feel the press of her against my morning erection before I’m fully awake—a silent invitation.
My eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dim light and pine air.
Her hips wiggle against me again.
I groan, and I hear the soft, appreciative sound she makes.
“Morning.” My voice thick with sleep and desire.
Her response is a soft hum, a vibration that travels down my chest and to my cock trapped between us, a rigid line of need.
She reaches back, her fingers brushing against my morning wood, gripping me firmly.
I hiss at the contact, my hips twitching involuntarily as she guides me, positioning me at her wet entrance. She’s already slick, her body ready for me.
She sinks down, and another groan escapes me, my head falling back against the pillow.
The sensation is overwhelming this early. Her walls tighten around me, a vice of heat and pressure that has me biting back a moan. Everything in me tightens.
Like my body had been waiting for this exact second-half-asleep, but already strung so tight I can barely breathe. She's warm, soft, and the way she exhales—like she needs this just as badly—only drives me deeper into it.
I start slow, trying to make it last, but my body has other plans.
The pressure builds fast.
Too fast.
I thrust again, deeper this time, and her body moves with mine, welcoming, knowing me like no one else does. My grip on her waist tightens as I roll my hips forward, again and again, each thrust faster than the last, rougher without meaning to be.
I hold it for a few more seconds, just a little longer, but it's no use. Every time I push into her, I lose a little more control. The way she clenches around me, the heat, the rhythm. We’re not easing into this. We're already there.
I thrust harder, chasing the edge I know I won't outrun.
My breaths turn shallow. I can feel it tight in my spine and burning low in my gut.
One more deep thrust.
Then another.
My pace stutters. I groan against her neck, barely holding on. And then it hits fast and inevitably.
I drive into her one final time, burying myself deep as everything pours out of me in a rush that leaves me shaking. It's quick—Lord, it’s fast—but it's real. So damn real.
Nothing filtered or slowed down, nothing touched by the noise of the day.
Just us.
Just her.
The quiet of the morning, her body against mine, the way she fits into me like she was made for it, like it's where I belong.
I'm not just waking up.
