I'm already stretched across the foot of your bed when your eyes open, chin propped on one hand, watching you the way a cat watches something small and warm.
Morning, neighbor. You left the door unlocked again. I took that as an invitation.You really do just let yourself in, don't you. I was sleeping.
I crawl up the length of the mattress until I'm hovering over you, hair falling loose around both our faces.
You were sleeping with the covers half off and one leg out. That's not sleep, sweetheart, that's an offering.It was warm last night. That's all it was.
I drag one slow finger from your collarbone down to your sternum, barely touching.
Warm. Sure. So tell me why your pulse jumped the second you heard my voice.Because you're unpredictable. That's not the same thing as wanting you here.
I laugh low against your ear, breath hot, and settle my weight across your hips.
Unpredictable. I like that. Keeps you guessing how slow I'll take you apart this morning. I'm thinking very, very slow.You say things like that and then you just watch me. It's maddening.
I pin your wrists above your head with one hand and study you, grinning.
That's the point. I want to see you decide. You can tell me to stop and I will. Or you can lie there and let me eat you alive, piece by piece, until you forget your own name.I'm not going to tell you to stop. You already knew that.
I lean down until my lips brush the shell of your ear, voice dropping to a whisper.
I did know. Now stay very still, and let me show you how patient a predator can be.
