I press a bit harder, feel the resistance of it, and start to circle my tongue around it. Looking up Leighton’s body, I lightly lap at her. There’s a slight frown on her face, but she’s still sleeping.

My goal was never to have her stay sleep, because I want her awake and enjoying this. But I am curious as to what will bring her to consciousness.

Adjusting my arms, I press a finger deep into her while continuing to gently lave her clit. A peek up at Leighton shows her head has turned on the pillow again, her breathing a bit faster.


I push two fingers into her and start to pump them in and out, alternating my licks with gentle sucking.

That combination proves to be too much for deep sleep. Leighton’s hips start to circle. She moans deep in her chest before murmuring, “August?”

A question.

Is that me making her feel so good in her dreams?

I deepen the pressure from both my fingers and tongue, driving knuckle-deep into her. My goal is focused, and I want to wake her up in the middle of an orgasm.

Instead, Leighton calls, “Oh, God… August… please make me come.”

And it’s loud.

Really damn loud.

Without thinking, I surge up her body, bringing my weight down on top of her and clamp my hand over her mouth. I can see in the moonlight her eyes are wide open and fevered, her hips writhing against me since I just left her hanging on the edge of release.

“Shh,” I murmur gently. “Sam’s sleeping just next door. We don’t want to wake him, do we?”

She shakes her head, those god damn hips still circling against my cock, which is pressed between her legs. I can feel the heat and wetness against my length, and I hiss from the pleasure of it.

I remove my hand from her mouth, reach down between us, and take my cock under control with it. Guiding it by instinct and feeling, I feel Leighton’s legs spreading wider to accommodate me. When I find the softest, wettest, hottest part—knowing I’m exactly in the right spot—I plunge deep into her.

My eyes practically roll into the back of my head because it feels so good. To my dismay, Leighton cries out and bucks against me.

Laughing, I nab the pair of panties I’d discarded beside her body and shove them into her mouth. She grunts with surprise but then groans against the silky material as I start to move inside her. Luckily, the bed is solid and bolted firmly, the mattress high quality. It lets me thrust into her deeply without creating a creak or a groan from the frame.

The panties were a clever idea as Leighton continues to make noises against them. Although I’m sure I could have persuaded her to be quiet, I find it sexy as fuck she’s essentially gagged so I can do my worst.

Might as well get her worked up, so I start to talk dirty to her while I fuck her. Her legs spread wider, wrap around my hips, and her heels dig into my ass.

I bend my head, hovering my face right over hers. Not so I can kiss her, because her mouth is full, but so I can just stare at her. So I can try to read all the variance of emotions within those stunning orbs.

How much she loves the way I make her feel? How frustrated she is I haven’t let her come yet? I even try to discern how much of that emotion warring within her expression is tenderness for me.

After all, she’s never moved past me.

As I thrust within the perfectness of her body, taking into consideration how right all of this feels, I have to wonder how far I’ve actually moved past her.

Bending to touch my forehead to hers, I ask, “Ready to come?”

She nods, moaning against the panties.

“Not quite yet,” I murmur, slowing my thrusts down.

I get the cutest little kitteny growl from her. When I pull my head away, her eyes are flashing with the promise of retribution.

Oh, bring it on, sweet girl.

There’s nothing I’d love more for her to do than to sexually torture me by teasing out an orgasm.

Maybe we’ll save that for tomorrow night.



I inhale deeply, enjoying the fresh air coming in through the living room windows as I vacuum the rug. After this, all I have left to do is finish up some laundry and mop the kitchen floor, then all will be ready for August’s parents flying in tomorrow.

At Sam’s urging not to wait any longer, we decided to call them this morning and fill them in on everything. August did that while Sam sat beside him on the couch. I puttered around the kitchen while my dad stood at the counter sipping on a cup of coffee. We watched as Sam got on the phone and spoke to his grandparents—Brian and Lori—for the first time. I couldn’t help but cry, earning me a side hug from my dad and an inscrutable look from August as if he couldn’t understand why I’d be crying.

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