Page 126 of The Grand Duel
He groans slightly, his voice still rough from sleep. “Is it?”
My muscles relax, my eyes closing as I sink into his chest. “Hmm.”
His fingers pinch my side. “Trust you to disagree with the first thing to leave my mouth after waking up.”
I chuckle. “I would not be me, and we would not be us, if I didn’t.”
I can tell he’s smiling. “True. Did you sleep?”
I nod, shifting so that my exposed leg is back under the covers.
Charles flinches at my back, his breathy sigh fanning across my neck. “Careful, you,” he warns, voice shaky.
“Sorry,” I tell him, my stomach twisting at the feel of his hardening cock now pressing against the back of my upper thigh.
I feel his eyes on me for a full minute before he asks, “What’s this?”
I peer over my shoulder to see him fully. His hair is a mess, eyes puffy and sleepy, and his smile… “What?” I force out.
“This.” He leans in and runs the tip of his nose across my cheek, smile growing. “What’s this?”
I twist my head and narrow my eyes at him playfully. “I’m just really warm.”
He grins, dropping his head back to the pillow. “If you say so.”
“Ego need topping up again?” I huff out.
He chuckles into my neck, and I melt in the heat of his body.
“Ass.”
I raise my head to move the hair trapped under my shoulder, and he uses the movement to slip his free arm under my head, laying it across the pillow.
I’m not sure why, maybe because it feels like the most natural thing in the world to do, but I reach for his forearm and pull it down under the duvet, resting it across my chest and nuzzling into his bicep.
And now I am well and truly wrapped up in him.
And I never want to leave this bed.
“Do you think they’ll have pancakes at breakfast?” he says, the hand tucked under my ribs flexing.
“Maybe,” I mutter, my mind not focused on pancakes at all.
“I’m starving.”
If you still wanted this in the morning.
I swallow, running the tips of my fingers over the arm banded around my waist until my hand slips between his and the mattress. I slide my fingers into the gaps between his, and he instantly tightens around them.
I sigh, letting out a quiet moan.
I drag our hands up and across my stomach, him letting me lead, and then I drag them down.
I stretch, arching my back as I push lower, directing our hands between my aching thighs.
The tips of his fingers meet my bared skin first, his lips second—a kiss, barely and gentle at my neck as his hand settles over my pussy. “Look at me.”
I arch back again, desperate as I twist, lifting my gaze.