turnpike

vi

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I wake pinned to the mattress.

He's dead weight when he's sleeping, passed out with an arm, a leg, and half of his torso sprawled across me. It makes drawing in a breath difficult, my chest barely rising, and the ease in which he can crush me is both unnerving and exhilarating.

His skin is flushed and sticky, and I'm puzzled by how he can possibly stay asleep. This claustrophobic heat is what pulled me awake, but he still sleeps, clinging like a child to his safety blanket. I wonder if that's all I am to him: a reminder that he's not alone in the dark.

I attempt to shift, trying to alleviate the burden of his weight, but with a wordless murmur he moves with me. His arm sits higher now, hand coming to rest on my neck, thumb and forefinger on either side. I've had bruises there in the past from moments when he takes too long to loosen his grasp, and I'm not eager for more. Erotic asphyxiation does nothing for me, but his hand always seems to end up on my throat at some point while we're fucking. I know better than to try to stop him; my words won't be listened to anyway.

But it's morning now, a time for the bruises to slowly heal, at least until I give myself over to him for another night.

"Hey," I whisper, tilting my head up in hopes that it will force his hand away. I sigh when it doesn't move, and say the word again, a little louder this time.

Relief washes over me when he stirs, and I'm quick to move my newly released arm, hand coming to rest on the contours of his abs. It's a motion I know will soothe him, and I let my fingers stroke just a little lower to get his attention.

The smile comes to his face before his eyes open. They find mine in no time.

"Hey," he says, shifting off of me and to the side. It's another moment before his hand drops from my throat. "You stayed."

I had to, I want to tell him, but instead I smile and cautiously put a hand over top of his, partially to test to waters, but mostly to make sure it won't be moving back to my neck. "I did."

His fingers lace with mine. "I'm glad," he murmurs, thumb stroking the side of my palm. "You should stay over more often."

I lift an eyebrow, an attempt to play it cool, but my heart is racing. "Yeah? Why's that?"

Suddenly, his weight is on me again, pressing hard against my hips. He grins. "Because morning sex is the best."

I'm at a loss for words, so I'm lucky when he leans in to kiss me. Despite the morning breath and fuzzy teeth, I can't help but press closer. I'm gasping for air a moment later when I remember the reason why I was here last night in the first place.

"Wait, wait," I say, turning my head so his lips fall upon my cheek. "What time is it? We don't want to be late for this chemistry test."

He sighs but pulls away nonetheless, craning his neck to catch sight of the clock. "Eight forty. Don't worry, baby, we have time."

"Time?" I make to push him away, but his hand slips between my legs and I struggle to keep my train of thought. "Class starts at nine-thirty and we haven't even showered."

I'm not sure I like the glint in his eyes or the way he's staring at my mouth. "Well, we could save time and shower together."

"That's not a good idea," I tell him, but I'm closer to changing my mind with every inch higher his fingers creep.

But more than anything, I'm nervous. After all these months, he's only seen me in the daylight a handful of times and has only fucked me with the lights off. I used to think it was his preference, but it didn't take long to figure out that it was really mine. After all, it's easier to hide your sins in the dark.