The Morning Awakening
I watched him from the bathroom, the low hum of the hair dryer the only sound in the quiet room. Through the open door, I traced the lines of his half-exposed chest and the long, strong stretch of his legs. Just thinking about the feel of my nails grazing his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, made my own body tremble with anticipation.
I set the brush down on the vanity, my blue silk robe sliding open to reveal everything beneath, save for a pair of black cotton stockings that hugged my calves. He was still asleep, though a single toe peeked out from beneath the duvet. I leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his skin. A faint smile touched his lips, a sign he was drifting toward consciousness.
I moved upward, my lips exploring every inch of his warm flesh, my hands mapping the contours of his body. As he began to stir, letting out a low groan, I felt his hand reach out to pull me closer, his touch electric against my hip. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow over us as we surrendered to the heat of the moment.