I wake to sunlight streaming through my bedroom window and Zeke's arm draped across my waist. For a moment, I just lie there, letting myself feel it. The weight of him beside me. The steady rhythm of his breathing. The reality that he's here, that we're doing this again.
He stirs, pulling me closer, and I feel him hard against my back.
"Morning," he murmurs against my neck, his voice rough with sleep.
"Morning."
His hand slides down my stomach, between my thighs, and I arch into his touch. "Is this okay?"
"Very okay."
We move together slowly, lazily, like we have all the time in the world. He enters me from behind, one hand gripping my hip, the other still working between my legs. It's unhurried and intimate, and when we come, it's quiet and perfect.
Afterward, we lie there catching
