Her mind was still spinning. Of course sleeping with him had its benefits, but it also had its consequences. Like a curse of some sort, but the benefits were better. And also they came in a larger number.
He was laying there, quiet and asleep. She was wide awake, drinking in that achingly beautiful man by her side. Those eyes, that hair, those lips. The way he talked, and the way he bit his lip when he looked at her. It was hard not to think about what was going on in that beautiful head of his - it was easier to figure out what was going on in hers. And that was pure, instinctive and awesome lust for that man.
He woke up, she had fallen asleep. he looked at her, those messy curls in her head, the rosy, kissable lips. It wasn't hard to imagine what was going on in his head then, but he chose to let her sleep. He jumped out of bed, careful not to wake her up - that body was pure magic. Lucky she was, lying there, sound asleep.
When he came back, fresh from the shower, all those feelings came rushing back. There was no more peace and quiet. There was lust, and fire. Heat and passion. By the time the hurricane was over, there they were: two bodies back in bed, the real world outside waiting, and none of them wanting to go back. Those two naïve, lustful souls could live the dream a little while longer, still off axis.
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