𝗧𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸

𝗦𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 | 𝗔 𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱

𝙁𝙤𝙧 𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡, sleep was a special event, and he was elated to wake up and discover he had finally gotten it on his own. But that wasn't to discredit the angelic form that had laid beside him the entire night. In fact, he welcomed Mallorie's gentle invasion of space. Her plush bottom nestled against him as he cuddled her, one of his arms devoid of all feeling since it had fallen asleep underneath the weight of her head, and the other rested on the delicate slope of her shoulder as he played with her hair.

He scooped some of her coiled tresses out of the way to fan kisses over the back of her neck, smiling to himself as the faint scent of vanilla and cocoa butter filled his nostrils. It didn't take long before he was being carried away again and began kissing her all over, dragging his lips from the base of her neck to the shell of her ear.

Last night, he hadn't done anything else to Mallorie. Perhaps it was the strength of his faith and the immense respect he had for her, but the extent of his restraint decided to surprise him with a miracle. Now and even in his dreams, the erotic sounds of her soft moans into his mouth, the sensation of her sizeable breasts pressed against his chest, her desperate hold on him all visited him. He had used his hands and lips to explore her but with every curve and bend of her luscious body he discovered, he had to pray—preemptively pray for forgiveness in case he bent to his body's lustful will.

Having no mercy on him, the hedonistic thoughts decided to make themselves physically apparent, and Michael rushed to adjust himself when Mallorie turned over to face him. With his pulse pounding in his ears, he greeted her with a small smile, watching her lashes as they fluttered over her eyes to rid them of sleepiness.

"Good morning," she murmured. Despite having just awaken, her voice was full-toned, smooth and decadent like honey.

He didn't say anything. Fervor filled his body as he attached his lips to hers instead and kissed her deeply. Slowly. Her veil of sweetness wrapped around all his senses and he savored it. Honey. Mallorie had to be the very source of it. Each time he angled his mouth over hers, he could understand the plight of a bee, working nonstop and utterly insatiable for just a taste. He had kissed her all through the night, varying from short pecks to full-blown makeouts that blurred with the rest. And yet, he feared it would never be enough.

She let out a soft sigh when she started to kiss him back, and she did it expertly so. From when he first made his bold move on her, he could tell that she had grown confidence, kissing him much differently from the hesitant brushes of her tongue and the endearingly awkward rhythm she had before. His heart swelled enough to burst when he began to pick up on the little bouts of trust she displayed, often through the way she let herself fall limp in his hold and be showered with his affection. The girl was innocent as she was intoxicating, and he was somehow lucky enough to be the one to show her how she should be physically romanced.

But she withdrew way too soon for his liking. Michael pouted at the loss of contact although he concluded it was likely for the best. The ache he had for her was threatening to grow and take up space in his loose, gray sweatpants.

Eyes glossy and lips swollen from their activities, Mallorie flattened her small palms on his chest. "I- Good morning, but we can't do this anymore, Michael. This has to end today."

"Really? What time?" he hummed, steadily bringing his wet kisses down her throat. He could feel himself strain against his boxers as she let out a tiny moan between her shuddered breaths.

"Michael, I'm serious."

He lightly nipped at the valley of her collar bone then took a taste of the skin. "So am I."

"It ends- I- I think we should r-right now."

As he rolled halfway to sit up further on the couch and conceal his arousal, his hands found the ends of her ribcage. By planting them firmly on her skin, he distracted his thumbs from their itch to attach themselves to her nipples which had gone taut and made an outline in the thin fabric of her shirt. "You don't sound too sure."