— R A E —

As it turns out, it's very difficult to fall asleep with a hard member pressed tightly against your ass.

Who could've known, right?

I almost feel bad for him; we've laid here for a good 20 minutes and his erection still hasn't gone away. It's lessened a bit at times and I thought maybe it was finally giving up, but then it just returned in full force all over again. Poor guy.

I can tell he's still awake too. It's probably just as hard to fall asleep when certain parts of you aren't cooperating.

"Hey, Ajax..."

"Hmm?"

"It's not gonna go away like this, is it?"

There's a very long, very full pause before he affirms with a sigh, "Probably not like this, no."

As comfortable as I am, I'm feeling the need to switch positions anyway, so I turn around in his arms to face him.

Our faces are inches apart and he's looking at me with the most handsome, most embarrassed face I think I've ever seen. His eyes are so apologetic, his mouth a thin line. I get the sudden urge to reach out and touch his ears because I bet my life they are burning hot.

Instead, I put my hand against his upper shoulder and push lightly.

He gets the idea and rolls away onto his back, still watching me. Cold air rushes between us at the break of contact, but it's only momentary as I move closer to rest my head on his chest.

"I'm really sorry—" he begins, but I cut him off by smirking up at him.

"Don't be. Nothing to be sorry for. We're both adults, I understand how your body works. Let's just move around so my nice ass isn't distracting you, and we'll see what happens."

I settle my head in the perfect nook where his shoulder and chest meet, and he wraps his arm around my back to my side.

Ah, fuck, what kind of glorious hell is this? I had nearly forgotten he was shirtless. While we were spooning I couldn't exactly see or feel the difference with my shirt on. Now with the blanket only pulled up to our hips and my cheek resting on his bare chest I have a clear view down his shapely stomach, his covered legs, and all the way to his feet.

Including the peaked mass south of his belly button.

Somehow I don't believe this to just be a random boner, I get that it happens sometimes but they definitely don't last this long. I'm not an idiot, I know he's hard because he's turned on, and the thought sends a thrill through me.

I did that.

I'd also be in denial if I didn't admit to myself that I'm turned on too. You know that whole brain vs body thing? My body is definitely winning. But my brain is beginning to sway as well.

He called me beautiful. It might've just been a slip of the tongue or part of his rambling, but he still said it. And I get the feeling he meant it, even if was just part of his excuse.

My brain really likes him. And my body really wants him.

My arm is slung over him across his waist but I pull it back so I can rest my hand on his chest instead.

From this angle his stomach is magnificent. The moonlight highlights every hill and plain, the valleys between each muscle a sharp, dark contrast.

My hand begins a slow descent from his chest and I feel him tense under me. My fingers start moving of their own accord, tracing the path my eyes make.

Down the deep center to his belly button. I dare to go just past it to brush the hairs of his happy trail, and I hear his breath hitch, much to my pleasure. But I follow to the side instead and up around another curve. Back down and around, continuing in slow movements all around his stomach and then up to his chest to trace his collar bones. Back down and around I continue lazily.

He relaxes again when he realizes what I am and am not doing, and moves his hand from my side up to the back of my head. Playing with my hair, he brushes locks of it back from my face and moves them around, twisting pieces around his finger.

I suppose that's fair; if I'm allowed to touch and explore him, he can do the same to me.

And I love having my hair played with, who doesn't? Every movement sets my fingers and toes to tingling again, my core aching.

Eventually, he turns his head to rest his cheek against my head. He softly nuzzles my hairline for a minute before I feel a light pressure on my crown. A moment later it's gone again as he puts his cheek back in its place.

I didn't imagine that did I? Did he just kiss my head? Fuck, this boy is going to give me a heart attack, my heart is pounding like a horse's hooves.

So is his. I can hear it under my ear pressed to his chest.

My hand on his stomach had paused its motion when I felt his lips on my head, so his free hand makes use of my stillness and moves up to lightly grip mine. His hand dwarfs mine as he rubs his thumb along my palm, the rest of his fingers playing with my own in a dance.

I glance down at our hands, and my eyes travel past them to the still evident tent under the blanket.

So I guess the not-so-casual touching didn't exactly calm him down either. Go figure.

My leg is getting kind of crampy just laying straight along his, so I bend and pick it up a bit, moving it over the top of his. It causes me to shift slightly, pulling even closer to his side. My foot slides in between his legs so my leg is wrapped around one of his from the hip down.

He draws in a quick breath, his hand pausing its motion on mine, and I already know why: my thigh is resting a mere inch away from his manhood. Any movement would have me grazing him.

His voice is like gravel when he breaks the quiet, "You know, that's really not helping."

"Odd, I thought it would."

His breathing underneath me has quickened, waiting and wondering. He replies absently, "It is, in fact, doing the opposite."

As if I wasn't aware. His bulge is very much tempting my thigh, along with the rest of me.

Screw it. I'm a grown-ass woman, there's absolutely nothing wrong with the way I feel. So what if I met him tonight? It's the 21st century and I'm feeling empowered. And horny.

It both scares and excites me to realize I do want him.

But does he want me? He hasn't made a move, but the way he looks at me and the way his body reacts sure makes it seem like it. I very much wish I could see his face right now... see what kind of expression he's making.

Fuck it, Rae. Or, fuck him more like it.

It dawns on me exactly how to kill two birds with one stone: I pick my head up off his chest while transferring my weight to the arm under me. Leaning on my elbow I'm perched just above eye level with him and I can see his face perfectly. The movement, however, is just enough for my leg to press against his hardness, just as I'd intended.

His deep groan is exquisite. Short. Punctuated. But exquisite.

A few things happen at once and I'm glad I picked my head up in time to see it all.

He squeezes his eyes shut, brows drawn tight, and tilts his head back ever so slightly for just a quick moment. His stomach clenches, as well as his hand around my own. And it's all accompanied by his quick throaty groan.

But it only lasts a second, the only lingering effect is his heavy breathing and his eyes, which remain shut.

I allow him to process this new interaction, watching his eyebrows and jaw twitch. Not clenched, I notice, just moving around like he can't quite figure out what to say or do.

Finally, he opens his eyes and they find my own, despite the hazy darkness of the room. His gaze is dark and clouded with lust as they roam my face.

"I have a question," he starts, his voice low.

I nod in encouragement.

"I need to know if that was an accident, or if it was on purpose?"

The edges of my lips draw up slowly, his anticipation of my answer growing as well.

I don't answer with my voice. Instead, I gently rock my leg again, pressing against his member. Not hard, just enough to send the message: it wasn't an accident.

He doesn't outright groan this time, only a shaky breath through his nose. He releases the breath, smirking as he whispers, "Sadist." He still looks at me questioningly, eyebrows still drawn and twitchy.

And there—I'm positive he's looking at my lips again. I had thought he was, but I wasn't sure before now. His liquid amber gaze is flicking back and forth between my eyes and my mouth.

"I have a question for you as well," I begin, his eyes watching every movement of my lips. "I can tell you want to... so why haven't you kissed me yet?"

His eyes flare and his mouth opens wide before snapping shut again.

Finally coming to a decision, he delicately states, "I... wasn't sure that you wanted me to. Originally, I really didn't intend anything like that, and pressuring you was the last thing I wanted... I guess I was waiting for some sort of signal from you that you were ok with it..."

"Well, was that enough of a sign for you?"

A gentle pressure on the back of my neck pulls me towards him while his eyes continue to devour me.

I guess the answer was yes because his lips are close enough now for me to feel his hot breath against mine. It steams my mind until all I can think about is how delicious his lips will feel against my own lips and skin. How skilled his hands feel, currently tangled in my hair.

Impossibly, the moment both stills and quickens all at once. Time is suspended, and yet it all happens so fast that I almost don't believe it's real.

His thumb runs along my cheek at the same moment his lips brush mine ever so lightly, like I'm going to run if he moves too quickly.

The second our lips meet I know it's not enough. I want more.

Needing to taste him, my tongue runs hungrily along his lower lip. He practically growls in response, setting my core to throbbing.

The tentative graze of our lips turns fierce as he fully pulls me to him.

Lips locking and unlocking, our tongues meet and explore each other, and he smiles against me as I do against him.

Too soon, he gently pulls away for a breath, fingers still locked in my hair.

Damn it. I'm really enjoying this.

"Are you absolutely sure you're ok with this?" he gets out between breaths.

I laugh lightly. "I'm positive. Are you?"

"Oh, fuck yes."

"Then pretty please, shut up and kiss me again".

"Gladly. I've been wanting to kiss you ever since you put my goddamn shirt on over your goddamn perky boobs."

I lean down and bite his lower lip, effectively silencing him.

Everything blurs, lost in ourselves and each other, and when I next come to my senses I realize we've flipped positions. I lay on my back while he pins me under him, my legs wrapped around his waist to pull him close.

And holy shit does he feel amazing against me. This is exactly what I wanted, what I didn't even know I needed, and as he pulls away a moment and our eyes lock, I know the feeling's mutual.

His eyes and lips are hungry—and so are mine.