Waves - Book #2 [completed]

37 ~ Filipendulous

Filipendulous
adj.
hanging by a thread

I'm trapped.

At least it feels like it when I blink my eyes open at dawn and can't move one bit because Mason's clutching me like he's afraid I might run away.

He's snuggled up halfway on top of me, the side of his face cuddled between my breasts like they're the most comfortable pillow on earth. He's got me in a weird half-body chokehold too. His arm with the New York skyline tattooed on it is draped over my upper stomach, curling around my ribcage. His leg is slung over one of mine. I feel his breath through my thin top and his fingers twitch against my skin.

It's almost exactly how I woke up the morning after our first night together. Only now I'm not on the brink of toppling off my own bed when I had to carefully extricate myself from under him and let my bum drop to the floor before sitting on the other side.

This is what scared me last time. The closeness and severity of my feelings for him. The way my body reacts to him. The way I can't hold back.

I've gone so long without sex – without physical affection – and now every fiber, every tiny hair on my body responds by lighting up when his fingertips brush across bare skin or when I feel his semi hard cock pressed against my hip. His scent, the little sleepy noises he makes in the blissfully unconscious state between sleep and wakefulness.

I could get used to all of this.

I feel my heart picking up pace when Mason's hand escapes from underneath me, gliding down my ribs, my waist and over the expanse of my hip. His dick twitches, growing and hardening more, and he growls blearily against my sternum as he stirs awake.

He's trapped in hypnagogia and I'm stuck between feeling joyful and anxious. Joyful because I found him, the man who allows me to be myself completely, who desires me for me and accepts my dichotomy of old and new romantic feelings. But I'm still anxious because I might lose him too. I'm scared he won't stick around and get annoyed by my constant making leeway into the past and not having enough affection left for him.

"Hey," Mason groans, his voice gruff and drugged with sleep. "Good morning."

"Morning." I smile a weak smile.

He shifts, leaning up on his elbow to take a little of his weight off me. "God, I slept so fucking good." He kisses my chin, my jaw, my cheek, my nose and my forehead, simultaneously roaming his hand along my side. He chuckles. "I hope I didn't smother you."

He's fully hard now and hums deeply with every kiss. My breaths come as little gasped pants through my mouth because I too am as aroused as he his.

"Mason," I whisper-plea, not knowing what my plea is exactly.

Wild, dark blond strands of hair fall into his handsome chiseled face. "You're gorgeous in the morning, you know that?"

"I am?"