open, I think I must have accidentally fallen asleep underneath a bear. I’m warm, much warmer than I usually am when I sleep, and the light is so dim it could be called cave-like. I’m torn between wanting to snuggle in deeper and hibernate and wanting to leap up in fear of the unknown.
Then the bear grunts in its sleep and pulls me tighter, and I realize instantly what must have happened.
Drake crawled into bed with me during the night.
Why would he do that? Oh…
Last night’s horror show flashes through my mind like a film, reel after reel of mortifying moments from the night before. I can’t believe I had a night terror while sleeping in Drake’s bed. I actually woke him up…he must think I’m a complete whack job.
Since when do you care what anybody thinks of you?
Behind me, Drake’s rock-hard body is completely molded to mine. I can’t remember the last time I slept next to a man. Wait…that’s because it’s never happened. As something warm and gooey begins to spread through my chest, something molten and fiery makes wetness pool between my legs. Sucking in a sharp breath, I squirm and twitch.
It’s not that I’m a stranger to sexual attraction. I’ve never shied away from bringing a guy home from the bar if there’s a connection. I decided a long time ago that the way my father marked me wouldn’t be the thing that ruined me. I made sure, after years of cowering in fear of the man and then of the memories of him, that I was going to take control of the part of me that he stole.
I am in control.
So why, with every inch of Drake pressed so firmly against every inch of me, do I feel so utterly out of control?
I can’t see his face, but the warm puffs of breath skate across my neck as he breathes. He’s still sleeping. But sleep doesn’t stop his body from reacting to mine. The evidence of his awareness is very blatant against my back, and all I want to do is push my hips backward to meet his.
In a corner of my mind, I’m terrified about giving in to this pull I can’t ignore with Drake. It’s everywhere all at once; it’s in my mind and my body and my soul. It lives in me. But something happened the first time we had sex that sent me running, and my head tells me not to ever let it happen again. Not to get that close. With anyone.
I sigh as Drake’s hand caresses my stomach where the shirt he loaned me has ridden up. The simple touch sends a wild rush of sensation along my skin. My breathing becomes heavier, because I can’t help it. This is a purely physical reaction to this particular man’s proximity. Never have I wanted to just give myself over to a guy. But everything about Drake right now is surrounding me. His manly smell, his strong, hard body. In contrast, his hands are gentle where they touch me.
I know he’s awake when his lips meet the soft skin just below my ear. A needy moan escapes me, matching the needy ache between my thighs. My hips begin to move on their own, restless.
Restless.
Restless.
Behind me, Drake tries to suppress a groan. He does a shit job of it.
“Mea, sweetheart. If you want me to be a gentleman this morning, then you need to stop wiggling around against my dick.”
His voice is rough, raw, and so delectable I want to swallow every word he says. I want to lick my way around his perfect lips before diving deep into his mouth to taste him.
Something is seriously wrong with me. I’ve officially lost my ever-loving mind.
With a heavy breath, I nod. Speaking right now isn’t an option.
With one quick movement, Drake flips me onto my back so that he can look me in the eyes.
His assessment is blazing. His beautiful honeyed gaze roams from my half-lidded eyes to the pert peaks of my nipples showing through the thin tee, to my bare legs. I’m still having trouble catching my breath, and Drake’s eyes zero in on my face once more.
Slowly, his hand, resting on my hip, slides up my body. When he grazes the side of my bare breast, the shirt
Then the bear grunts in its sleep and pulls me tighter, and I realize instantly what must have happened.
Drake crawled into bed with me during the night.
Why would he do that? Oh…
Last night’s horror show flashes through my mind like a film, reel after reel of mortifying moments from the night before. I can’t believe I had a night terror while sleeping in Drake’s bed. I actually woke him up…he must think I’m a complete whack job.
Since when do you care what anybody thinks of you?
Behind me, Drake’s rock-hard body is completely molded to mine. I can’t remember the last time I slept next to a man. Wait…that’s because it’s never happened. As something warm and gooey begins to spread through my chest, something molten and fiery makes wetness pool between my legs. Sucking in a sharp breath, I squirm and twitch.
It’s not that I’m a stranger to sexual attraction. I’ve never shied away from bringing a guy home from the bar if there’s a connection. I decided a long time ago that the way my father marked me wouldn’t be the thing that ruined me. I made sure, after years of cowering in fear of the man and then of the memories of him, that I was going to take control of the part of me that he stole.
I am in control.
So why, with every inch of Drake pressed so firmly against every inch of me, do I feel so utterly out of control?
I can’t see his face, but the warm puffs of breath skate across my neck as he breathes. He’s still sleeping. But sleep doesn’t stop his body from reacting to mine. The evidence of his awareness is very blatant against my back, and all I want to do is push my hips backward to meet his.
In a corner of my mind, I’m terrified about giving in to this pull I can’t ignore with Drake. It’s everywhere all at once; it’s in my mind and my body and my soul. It lives in me. But something happened the first time we had sex that sent me running, and my head tells me not to ever let it happen again. Not to get that close. With anyone.
I sigh as Drake’s hand caresses my stomach where the shirt he loaned me has ridden up. The simple touch sends a wild rush of sensation along my skin. My breathing becomes heavier, because I can’t help it. This is a purely physical reaction to this particular man’s proximity. Never have I wanted to just give myself over to a guy. But everything about Drake right now is surrounding me. His manly smell, his strong, hard body. In contrast, his hands are gentle where they touch me.
I know he’s awake when his lips meet the soft skin just below my ear. A needy moan escapes me, matching the needy ache between my thighs. My hips begin to move on their own, restless.
Restless.
Restless.
Behind me, Drake tries to suppress a groan. He does a shit job of it.
“Mea, sweetheart. If you want me to be a gentleman this morning, then you need to stop wiggling around against my dick.”
His voice is rough, raw, and so delectable I want to swallow every word he says. I want to lick my way around his perfect lips before diving deep into his mouth to taste him.
Something is seriously wrong with me. I’ve officially lost my ever-loving mind.
With a heavy breath, I nod. Speaking right now isn’t an option.
With one quick movement, Drake flips me onto my back so that he can look me in the eyes.
His assessment is blazing. His beautiful honeyed gaze roams from my half-lidded eyes to the pert peaks of my nipples showing through the thin tee, to my bare legs. I’m still having trouble catching my breath, and Drake’s eyes zero in on my face once more.
Slowly, his hand, resting on my hip, slides up my body. When he grazes the side of my bare breast, the shirt
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