Pretty Venom |N.H|

58

Jasey Foster

August 1.

"Move over," I murmur into the pillow, lightly kicking my leg out to the space next to me that is being selfishly occupied. I swear I don't have any room here.

I hear shuffling, but it only lasts for a second, as if he had stopped trying to make room after realizing it wouldn't be effective, or that there was just no point in trying at all. "If I move over any more I'm going to roll right off the bed."

I groan out of slight frustration. I try to reach for the bedding covering me, but even that seems to be limited too. "Well can I at least have more of the covers? I'm cold over here."

"Lay on top of me," he suggests generously. "I'll keep you warm and there will be more room."

I turn around to face him. "Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Mmm, you know I would," he hums, smiling at me while half of his face is squished against a soft pillow. A few strands lay over his forehead, and I adjust them for him before letting my body relax again, shimmying for a moment against the bedding to get myself comfortable again.

"I'm staying here," I smile to myself as my eyes fall shut again, purposefully trying to piss him off since he is hoarding the blankets and space on this bed.

I peek at him through my half-closed eyes, noticing him as he shakes his head, pulling his lips into a line out of disagreement. "No you aren't."

His hands suddenly reach for my waist, and he pulls me towards him until I'm close enough for him to hug an arm around me, using his other hand to push me up and set me down gently on top of him so I can straddle his waist.

I tilt my head, not expecting to be sat in this position, but I'm not entirely surprised that this was his idea, nor am I against the arrangement. "I've never tried sleeping this way before."

His fingers trace circles on my hips as he stares up at me from where his head is resting on the pillow beneath him. "What? On top of a guy, straddling his dick? I don't necessarily want you to share the image of you sitting on someone else with me." He digs his fingers into my thighs as he tells me this, as if he is trying to remind me who I am on top of.

How could I ever forget?

"I meant sleeping sitting up," I clarify, letting my hands travel up and down his clothed chest. Once they make the journey back down his body, I tug lightly on the hem of his t-shirt, wanting it off. "I was more comfortable laying down."

His mouth curves into a smirk. "I could make you real comfortable if you'd let me."

"Tempting," I nod.

Another flirty comment from him and I just might give in.

He smiles, leaning upwards and speaking against my mouth, "Always."

His lips find mine like a magnetic attraction, and once they are touching, we can't break away from each other.

His hands rest on my back momentarily before a sudden shift in the way I am sitting on him coaxes him into pulling me down on top of him. I try not to smile, but I know I am.

My hand cups the side of his face, finding myself as close as I can get to him, but in seconds, my hands are all over him. Running up and down his chest again, around his neck, through his hair. I slip my hand beneath the material of his shirt, rubbing my hand over his bare chest before he mirrors my actions back to me, slipping his hand under my shirt and sliding up my chest, squeezing over my breast through my bra.