Elijah
I had been comfortable, but in the vaguest, hazy annoyance, I was aware that I was less comfortable than before.
Not enough to exert energy to pull myself up in bed to figure out what was intruding on my happy cocoon.
Mainly because another brain cell or two let me know I’d been uncomfortable for a while.
I knew because the spot next to me, which should have been a living, warm, and welcome body, was empty.
That spot was cool, but that wasn’t a reason to disturb my peaceful sleep.
“Oh, Eliiiiiiii,” came an irritatingly chipper call.
It was a voice that, on most days, I considered welcome.
After all, it belonged to my favorite person in the world.
A person who filled my life with joy and wonder, who had brought me happiness, and who I admittedly wanted to have naked more often.
Right now, though, it was the source of annoyance.
In truth, if I could find the source of the noise, I would happily smack the shit out of it like an alarm clock from one of those old cartoons.
Sadly, the owner of the voice probably knew that and was keeping his distance.
If I wanted to smack the shit out of him, I would have to leave my comfortable cocoon.
And if I left the cocoon, I would officially be more awake than asleep.
“Eliiiii,” he called again, and even with my groggy brain cells, I knew he wasn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon.
Either I would have to get up and join the rest of the world, or get up to cause him pain.
“Quit grunting. We both know I’m not going anywhere and that you need to be dragged out of bed. ”
“G’way,” I muttered a little more coherently as I wrapped the blanket around me, wondering why I had ever wanted him in bed with me. I was clearly incapable of thinking things through when I was awake, because that version of me was happy to have him around.
He chuckled, and I cracked open an eye to see him leaning on the doorway, watching me with a smirk. “You’re so grumpy right now, and I should be worried, but you also look cute.”
“Fuck off,” I muttered. “You’re not charming me out of bed.”
“I’m serious,” he said with a shrug, walking into the room.
He must have been up for at least an hour because his hair was under control, dangling over his forehead neatly, and he had changed into jeans without a shirt.
As irritated as I was, my eyes lingered on the waistband of his jeans, which hung low on his hips.
I remembered people referring to the line of hair from the stomach down to the groin as a ‘treasure trail,’ and while I knew what they meant, it had seemed a little dramatic.
I suppose it was because women didn’t typically have them, so I’d never had to deal with it, but now I was officially into at least one member of the sex that sported treasure trails, I could finally see why some people were borderline feral about the sight.
Though at the moment, the feral part of my brain was more interested in going back to sleep than his accidental sexy display.
More interested, not completely.
“So am I,” I growled, realizing that wouldn’t work.
I didn’t have a leg to stand on with Milo.
As it was, he’d been dealing with how bearish I was in the morning.
Now I had even less of a chance of scaring him off because he ignored the threat of my growls, and he had been turned on by it in the past.
Maybe changing our relationship had been a mistake.
“I made the good coffee,” he promised as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Mmph,” I shot back because damn it, the good coffee did sound good.
“I know,” he said, though he clearly didn’t. Milo could wake up instantly and, within minutes, go about his day with clarity and enthusiasm.
“No,” I muttered, trying to pull the blanket over my face, but was stopped when he grabbed it and opened it enough to slip his arm in. It seemed he had come prepared because his hands were warm, so I didn’t cringe when he laid his hand over my stomach and stroked it gently.
“Come on,” he coaxed, as unbothered by my mood as ever, except his hand was slipping lower.
I rolled to glare at him. “Quit.”
“Make me,” he said as his fingers slipped further down my body.
Not that there was anything in the way of his Roman Fingers because we had both crashed into bed without a stitch of clothing.
The fact that my morning wood was being particularly stubborn wasn’t doing much to keep me safe as his fingers brushed along the shaft.
Which didn’t immediately spark interest in me, but I could feel the small ember that flared to life from seeing him in only his jeans kindle a little further.
“This is rude...and illegal,” I muttered, though I did nothing to stop him.
“One of those things might be correct, but the other isn’t,” he said with a grin and leaned over, hand resting beside my dick as he hovered over my face, angling for a kiss.
Alright, so, I was well on my way to being seduced, not a difficult thing as he’d come to learn, but I did not want to be seduced.
Not because I didn’t want him to touch me sexually or because I was disgusted, it was the principle.
Milo could not be allowed to learn that using sex to wake me up was an effective tactic.
He already had enough advantages over me; the last thing I should do was give him another.
..even if said tactic could be a lot of fun.
I rolled onto my back to peer up at him, and he smiled when he saw my eyes were open and watching him.
I slid a hand over his bare chest and up toward his neck.
He smiled as he leaned in closer for a kiss, and that was all I needed.
Wrapping my arm around his neck, I yanked him down.
Milo yelped in surprise as he fell and hit the floor hard.
I quickly followed, blanket still wrapped around me.
“Ah! Cheater!” he proclaimed. I used the thick folds of the comforter to tangle his limbs as he tried to get leverage to fight me off.
I had surprised him, and the blanket worked in my favor.
It took only a few seconds before he was lying on his stomach, panting.
I held his arms in place and wrapped my legs around the blanket and his lower body.
My plan had been a complete success, far more than it had any right to be, considering how groggy I still was.
“No means no,” I grunted in his ear as he tried to fight back.
“One of these days, I’m going to be the one who surprises you, and you’re going to be the one who ends up face down on the floor, unable to move.”
“Maybe, but today isn’t looking like the day.”
“Ass.”
“You love my ass.”
To my surprise, he went still beneath me, turning his head so he could peer up at me with a bemused smile. “You know what? You’re right. I do love your ass. And your thighs, and your back, and your stomach, and your cock, and your face. And I even like when you’re a grumpy bitch in the morning.”
I stared down at him, brow slowly rising. “This your newest tactic?”
“Nope,” he said with sudden and genuine brightness.
“But it just occurred to me that I can express that I’m attracted to you.
I can talk about how, when you bend over, I want to run my hands all over your ass and squeeze it.
I can talk about the fact that sometimes you sit with your legs spread, and I can see your bulge, and it makes me want to get on my knees.
Or I can talk about that little smile of yours that makes my heart happy and my dick hard. ”
“I’m noticing a trend here,” I told him. “I’m this close to feeling objectified.”
“I mentioned getting on my knees in front of you to suck you off...wouldn’t that be objectifying myself?”
“Not really. Anyone with half a brain cell knows the person giving head is the one in control, even if their mouth is getting fucked.”
“How do you figure?”
“You’re sticking a really sensitive and important part of your body into someone else’s mouth...you know, the thing with all the teeth and surprisingly strong bite? That thing? Yeah, you’re the one at the other person’s mercy.”
“I never thought about it like that.”
“Clearly, you never had someone who was all teeth when they went down on you to give you a very...sharp reminder.”
He laughed. “Not all teeth, but I’ve gotten a graze or two. Who was all teeth for you? And would you get off me? My shoulders are starting to hurt, which is confusing because I can feel your dick through the blanket, and I really don’t want to develop a pain kink this late in life.”
“This late in life,” I said as I reluctantly let him up.
Hell, it was always fun to get the better of him, but it was still a new sensation, and I was enjoying being on top of him.
It wasn’t quite the same kind of on top that he was aiming for with his groping, but it was close enough for me to enjoy.
But...there was good coffee waiting, which would start to get bitter if I didn’t attend to it soon.
Sex with Milo, while thoroughly enjoyable, did not have an expiration date like the coffee did.
“I love how you make it sound like you’re an old man. ”
“So old,” he groaned as I pushed off him. He stretched his arms out so his whole body was on display as he sighed before going completely still and flopping bonelessly on the ground. “Much better. Fatass.”
“You love when I’m on top of you,” I told him, balling up the comforter and tossing it on the bed as I hunted for something to wear. I stopped when I realized there was no need for me to wear clothing.