It’s too cold to go outside, and the tent is small.
What would he do if he woke up and found me like this?
Goosebumps cover my body.
Maybe if I get this out of my system first, it won’t mean anything. If I act before letting my lust consume me, my head will clear. I will cement our relationship while keeping some perspective.
Restless, I roll over and look at the large sleeping form on the other side of the tent, pretending not to notice how my heart picks up in speed.
This is just business. Just me ensuring my future.
Slowly, I bring myself to my knees and lean over him. I pause, my hand connecting with his large bicep.
I can’t help but appreciate the difference between my average-sized hand and his large shoulder. With Eneko, I’ve always felt too small. Too breakable.
But with Ra’Sa, I am just… delicate.
I ignore how much I enjoy that. Instead, I stroke my hand to his wrist.
“Ra’Sa.”
He stirs, and I watch as he shifts onto his back.
“I can’t sleep,” I say.
His eyes fly open, and he bolts upright. Our tent isn’t big, so he almost knocks it all over with his quick action.
I put another hand on him just as he says, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Ignoring yet another blatant sign of care, I fall into his lap and position my legs on either side of his hips.
He stiffens beneath me, but I keep both hands on his shoulders and look up at him, biting my lip and softening my expression. The movements come easy—I’ve done them at least a hundred times.
“Melisa, what is this?” he asks, but his voice grows deep and soft in a way I haven’t heard before.
It eases something inside of me, settling like sand at the bottom of a river.
“Like I said, I couldn’t sleep.”
“So you’ve come to me? How can I help with that?” he asks, and the sound of his voice washes over me in soothing waves.
Men are easy to mold. You don’t need to lie to them to make them love you. If they care for you enough, they will lie to themselves.
My fingers trail down his arm, and he blinks before releasing my waist and reaching over to grab my wrist. I gasp at his warm hand against my skin.
He breathes deeply, nostrils flaring.“Melisa.What is this?”
My chest rises and falls between us, breasts just barely brushing his chest. I swallow, trying to return moisture to my mouth. My body is eager, but my mind is wary.
Go on, Meli. Kiss him. Use your tongue. Be the whore you are. He’ll like it, and you’ll stop dreaming about this.
And so I lean in.
When my lips brush his, they are stiff. Frustrated, I brush my tongue over the seam of his mouth. It catches him off guard, and he parts his lips for me.
I kiss him harder, pouring every trick I have into the action. My hand trails over his shoulder and down his spine as best I can—light touches meant to drive him wild.
Then I bite him once.