"Good morning."

From somewhere behind you, you can feel a smile - a faint scratch of stubble on skin, a loving note in the way my lips tickle your ear, and the gentle stroke of fingers through your hair. I'm already shifting behind you, covers rustling, and you can feel more, now, one arm draped over your side and the slow, deep thump of my heartbeat warming your back.

It wasn't supposed to get this far - a grinning pun somewhere in the back of the stacks, heat rising to your face, an offhand comment here and there about what you were looking for, and then... There were a lot of and then-s, last night, the performative trade of "oh, I really need to be going" turning back once more to pluck another volume from the shelves; a question here, a giddy tumble down a ramble or two there, and then it'd been too late to do anything but dinner, and then... And then, and then. Before the bed had come so naturally, even, we had known each other for ages in a day.

The morning sunlight is already slipping through the blinds, blurring the world into a molten, golden embrace, and my hands follow, the faint roughness of calluses and circling fingertips sliding lower on your side. Somewhere in the world outside the nest of blankets, there are books to be read and sunny strolls to be had, but they all fade into a capital-L Later, the smile in my voice only growing when my touch slides to your hips.

"You're not trying to get out of bed this early, are you, miss?"

I grin, and the fingers in your hair wind loosely to turn your head, a kiss simmering down against your lips. It's soft and sweet and only a hint possessive, but my eyes are sparkling when I withdraw, and fingers wind slowly through yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. The clock on the wall may be silently reproaching me for making any claims of it being early, but I'm having none of it, the blankets rustling once more as I press you back against the pillow.

There's that telltale stir, a heat pressing up against your thigh, and I laugh softly when your eyes flick to the bedside table, the lonely rubber rings in their plastic packets dangling off the edge.

With a kiss on your forehead, I turn your head away from them, and you feel the weight of me, all warmth and strength and glimmering promise, hands wandering with more than a hint of possession and eyes flickering with more even than that.

I wink, and something flutters inside you when I reach out and brush dismissively, the sound of plastic falling from the table and out of sight.

"Not anymore."

Reach out any time - I'm always happy to make your acquaintance, and see what adventures we might share. Thank you for reading!

Kinks for this one: Breeding, romance, gently manhandling you, mischievous banter, wandering hands, contrasts, girls who can ramble with their eyes aglow.