6. Tessa #2
"I remember," I breathe, eyes still closed because opening them feels impossible. "But I'm so tired..."
"I know. Just relax. Let me make you feel good."
My body goes limp against the mattress, surrendering completely to him.
But I'm more aware now, hovering in that strange space between sleep and waking.
Drowsy but conscious enough to feel everything—the scratch of his stubble against my inner thighs, the slick sound of his tongue on me, the cool air of the room against my exposed skin.
"Don't stop," I whisper, my hand tightening in his hair.
He smiles against my pussy. I feel the curve of his lips, the brief pause in movement before he returns with renewed focus.
"I won't."
His fingers slide inside me while his mouth stays focused on my clit. Two thick digits stretching me open, filling me in a way that makes me gasp. They curve upward, finding that spot deep inside that makes stars explode behind my closed eyelids.
"Ahh! Oh God!" My voice cracks on the words.
My hips buck involuntarily, pressing harder against his face. He holds me down with one strong arm across my lower stomach, keeping me pinned to the bed while his fingers pump relentlessly. The wet sounds of him working me fill the quiet room, obscene and intoxicating.
"Theo! I'm—I can't—" The words fragment as the pressure builds to something unbearable.
"Come for me, Tessa. Let go."
The orgasm hits suddenly, like a dam breaking. My pussy clenches hard around his fingers, pulsing rhythmically. I sob his name, hands fisting tighter in his hair hard enough that it must hurt.
"Ahh! Ahh! Yes!" Each cry tears from my throat, beyond my control.
He works me through it, fingers pumping and mouth sucking, drawing out every wave until I'm shaking all over and oversensitive enough that it borders on pain.
"Stop, stop, too much," I whimper, trying to twist away from the overwhelming sensation.
He pulls back. I'm panting hard, chest heaving under his t-shirt, eyes barely managing to crack open. The room is dark around us, only the faint glow from the hallway providing any light. Already I can feel myself drifting back toward sleep, the orgasm leaving me boneless and heavy.
"Good girl," he murmurs, voice thick with approval.
I smile sleepily, can't help the pleased expression that spreads across my face even though I'm fighting to stay conscious.
There's movement—the rustle of fabric, the sound of a zipper. Then his weight settles between my legs, solid and warm and familiar. Something hard and hot notches at my entrance, blunt pressure that makes me inhale sharply.
"Tessa, baby, you still with me?" His voice is closer now, right above me.
"Mmm..." I hum, the sound non-committal because forming actual words feels impossible.
"I'm going to fuck you now. Okay?"
"Okay," I breathe, barely audible even to my own ears.
He pushes inside slowly, carefully, giving me time to adjust. I'm wet from his mouth and my orgasm, slick enough to take him easily despite the stretch.
Despite how thick he is, how he always fills me to the point of fullness that borders on too much.
He groans as he bottoms out, the sound rough and masculine above me.
"Fuck, you feel so good."
"Mmm..." It's all I can manage.
My head turns on the pillow, cheek pressing into the cool cotton. Sleep pulls at me like gravity, dragging me back down into darkness. His cock fills me perfectly, stretching me in that way I've become addicted to, but I'm so tired. Hovering right on the edge of consciousness, aware but distant.
He pulls back slowly, then thrusts in again.
Slow, deep strokes that I feel all the way through my core.
The pleasure is there but muted by exhaustion, like I'm experiencing it through layers of cotton.
His hand slides under my shirt—his shirt that I'm wearing—and palms my breast. His thumb finds my nipple, rubs circles that make it harden under his touch.
I arch slightly, my body responding on instinct even as my mind floats somewhere far away.
"That's my girl. So perfect for me." His voice is warm, possessive.
His voice washes over me like a blanket. Safe. Familiar. Mine. The words echo in my drowsy brain, settling something deep in my chest.
Time becomes fluid, loses all meaning. I drift in and out of awareness as he fucks me with steady, measured strokes.
Sometimes I surface enough to feel everything acutely—his cock moving inside me with wet friction, his hands gripping my hips or breast, the bed creaking rhythmically beneath us.
The smell of sex in the air, sweat and arousal mixing with his cologne.
Other times I sink back into sleep, only dimly aware of the pleasure building again, of the press of his body against mine.
"Theo..." I mumble at one point, his name slurring on my tongue.
"Right here, baby." His hand strokes my hair, brushes damp strands from my forehead.
"Feels good."
"Yeah?" There's satisfaction in his voice, possessive pride.
"Mmm... don't stop..."
My hand reaches out blindly, fingers fumbling until they find his forearm. I squeeze weakly, my grip uncoordinated but encouraging him to keep going.
He leans down, his chest pressing against mine as he kisses me. I respond sluggishly, mouth opening but barely kissing back. Too drowsy to coordinate properly, but I try anyway because it's him.
"You like being fucked in your sleep?" he asks against my lips, breath hot on my face.
"Yes... like it... like you..." The words spill out, unfiltered by exhaustion. Truth I might have held back if I were fully awake.
His chest tightens against mine, muscles going taut. His breath hitches, catches in his throat.
"I like you too, baby. So much." There's something raw in his voice, vulnerable.
I smile, the expression soft and genuine. Then darkness pulls me under completely, consciousness slipping away like sand through fingers.
His rhythm changes—harder, faster, the bed rocking more noticeably. Chasing his release. My body responds automatically, pussy clenching around him even though I'm asleep again, lost to dreams and exhaustion.
"Gonna fill you up, baby. Breed this perfect pussy." His voice is strained, rough with need.
His voice reaches me through layers of sleep. Distant but familiar, anchoring me even in unconsciousness.
"Keep my cum inside you while you sleep. Wake up knowing I marked you."
His climax hits hard. I feel it distantly—his cock pulsing inside me, warmth flooding deep in my body as he fills me completely. He groans my name, the sound broken and reverent as he buries himself as deep as he can go.
Then there are gentle movements. Something soft and damp cleaning between my legs, careful and tender. Fabric pulled back up—my panties, settling against me. The blanket tucked carefully around my body, cocooning me in warmth. Lips pressing against my forehead in a lingering kiss.
"Sleep well, baby. I'll see you in the morning."
I sink deeper into sleep, safe and claimed and completely his. His scent surrounds me—on the shirt, on my skin, in the air—and I've never felt more protected.