Trevor checks in with Anna three times in the aftermath of her orgasms. First, after he's taken off his wet clothes and cleaned himself up with a wet towel from the bathroom, and she continues to lie on the bed, soaking wet, regaining her breath. Second, after he helps her up and peels her dress off of her, kissing down her collarbone and taking a nipple into his mouth before guiding her into the shower for the second time. And third, after she stops the water and stands still dripping in the shower, her legs weak. He left the bedroom to put the wet clothes and blanket into the wash down the hall, and he comes back into the room, looking around for her. His creased brow makes her laugh.
"I'm okay, really. My body is just having a slow time catching up with my brain."
"That good, huh?" he's joking, but she nods seriously as he wraps a fresh towel around her.
"Are we done for the night?" his hands remain on her shoulders, the comforting weight of them steadying her.
She gives him what she hopes is a mischievous smile. "Only if you want to be done."
He raises an eyebrow. "You look pretty tired to me."
So he gives her a tee shirt and a pair of boxer briefs and helps her into the (miraculously dry) bed, which smells like dryer sheets. And he sets her cup of water on the bedside table next to her and tucks her into bed and even kisses her forehead--who is this guy?
She can feel the blush creeping up her cheeks when he pulls away. "Thank you," she whispers.
She hears the distant noises of him cleaning up downstairs, and the whir when he starts the dryer, but within her cocoon of blankets she drifts easily off to sleep. At some point she wakes up to chug her water and realizes that Trevor is beside her in bed, one leg slung over hers.
In the morning, light slants through the blinds onto her face, and Trevor is stirring beside her. They say sleepy good mornings, and Trevor stands to stretch. He's shirtless, and the muscles beneath his skin ripple as he lifts his arms above his head. She also notices his impressive morning wood poking at his boxers, and he sees her notice, smirking.
"Sleeping next to you wasn't easy, you know?"
She surely has bedhead, and morning breath, and bags under her eyes. But the way he gazes down at her slices through all of that, exposing her. "Well, if I had known you had that going on next to me, I would've hard a hard time sleeping myself."
He gets back into the bed, climbing over to straddle her, the erection pointing directly toward her. "Naughty girl," he chides, gently trapping her wrists above her on the pillow. Her responding gasp is involuntary, and her clit stands at attention beneath the layers of blankets separating them. She arches her back toward him, and he brings her wrists together to trap them in one large hand, his other hand coming to the hem of her t-shirt and lifting it up, exposing her stomach, and then her breasts. He takes one in his palm, massaging it.
