The first brush of contact made her moan, a sound that went straight to my cock.
I traced her through the fabric, feeling the heat of her, the wetness that had nothing to do with her earlier solo activities and everything to do with proximity to an Alpha.
To me.
"Is this what you want?" I asked, needing some kind of permission even if it was given in dreams. "These fingers?"
She moaned again, hips shifting to press against my hand.
In sleep, without her walls and careful control, her body was honest.Desperate.Needy in ways she'd never let herself be while conscious.
I pushed her panties aside, my fingers finding slick, swollen flesh. She was drenched, pussy clenching around nothing, empty and aching. The first touch of my finger to her clit made her whole body jerk, a gasp escaping her lips.
"Mal..." Definitely my name this time, breathy and wanting.
"I'm here," I promised, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves with the same precision I used in surgery. "I've got you, love. Let me take care of you, hmm?"
She was so responsive, even dulled by sleep and pills.
Every touch drew out another moan, another shift of her hips seeking more. I'd imagined this so many times—touching her, tasting her, learning exactly how to take her apart.
But the reality was so much better than any fantasy.
I slipped one finger inside her, and fuck, she was tight.
Hot and wet and perfect, her inner walls clenching around the intrusion like they were trying to pull me deeper. She moaned, louder this time, and I pressed my lips to her neck to muffle my own response.
"That's it," I whispered against her skin, starting a slow rhythm. In and out, curling to find that spot that would make her see stars.
A second finger joined the first, stretching her, and she keened softly.
Her body moved with mine, unconsciously seeking the pleasure I was offering. I could feel how desperate she was, how empty she'd been, how much she needed exactly this.
My thumb found her clit, circling in time with my thrusting fingers, and her breathing changed. Faster, shallower, little whimpers escaping with each exhale. She was climbing towardrelease, and I was determined to give her something better than what she'd managed alone.
"Come for me," I urged, knowing she couldn't really hear me, not caring. "Let go, Velvet. Let me see you fall apart."
I pressed kisses to her neck, gentle bites that would leave marks she'd see in the morning. Evidence of this moment, of my presence, of the fact that she wasn't as alone as she believed.
Her pussy clenched around my fingers, rhythm faltering, and I knew she was close. I curled my fingers just right, pressed firmly against that spot while my thumb worked her clit, and she shattered.
The orgasm rolled through her in waves, her whole body shuddering as she came on my fingers. She moaned my name, clear as day, and I had to bury my face in her hair to keep from coming in my pants like a teenager.
I worked her through it, gentle touches extending the pleasure until she went boneless against me. Even in sleep, I could feel the difference—this release had been real, satisfying in a way her solo efforts couldn't achieve.
But my cock was so hard it hurt, pressed against her ass, demanding attention.
And she was so wet, ready, and perfect...
This was the line.
Fingers were one thing, but actually fucking her while she slept? That was something I hadn't had the guts to push towards. Yet tonight, of all nights, I was too fucking tempted to try.
I wanted it.Her.Had wanted to give in for fifteen years, through all the almosts, maybes, and not-quite-theres.
She shifted in her sleep, pressing back against me, and the movement nearly undid me. A soft moan escaped her lips—contentment mixed with lingering need—and my control snapped.
My hands shook as I freed my cock, the cool air making me hiss through clenched teeth. I was painfully hard, had been since I'd first seen her on those monitors.