Rain's POV:
"Hmm… Rain. Baby… what are you doing?" he murmurs, voice thick with sleep, the warmth of his breath spilling over the back of my neck and making every tiny hair there stand up.
His body is wrapped around mine — heavy, secure, claiming.
His hardness pressed against me, unyielding, undeniable, his forearm resting over my waist like a quiet command.
Before my brain can catch up to my body, I move back into him.
Slow at first
Still Testing.
Hungrily pressing into him.
The thin layers of fabric between us turn everything into friction — muted but maddening — just enough to make the ache deepen, to make the wanting bloom between my thighs.
"Rain—" he warns.
"Do you want me to stop?" I whisper, bracing, already expecting that familiar sting of rejection.
He doesn't answer.
Instead, his forearm slides upward, fitting around my chest, enclosing me — like he's gathering all of me into himself, like even in sleep he refuses to let me go.
