“In a minute, baby,” he whispers and pulls his large hand down my back to my ass. “You are beautiful, Sam. I love your soft skin. You don’t have any scars or marks on you.”
“Well, just the ink from your marker,” I remind him with a smirk and he bites my shoulder playfully.
“You didn’t mind,” he mutters and continues to lightly rub me, raising goosebumps on my flesh.
“It was sexy,” I whisper.
“You’re sexy,” he whispers back and kisses my shoulder where he just bit it. “I love your raspy voice.” He kisses my spine, right between my shoulder blades. “I love your soft blonde hair.” He kisses my other shoulder. “I love the noise you make when I do this.” He bites my earlobe and I moan.
“Fucking sexy,” he murmurs and slides down my body leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake. He grips my hips and raises my ass off the bed. Finally!
But instead of fucking me, he buries his face in my pussy again, and sends me straight into another mind-numbing orgasm.
“Holy fuck!” I scream as he drags his tongue up and down my labia, from my anus to my clit. “Leo, please!”
“Please what, baby?” He asks, and I hear him tear open a condom. Thank Moses.
“Fuck me!”
“Okay,” he agrees and slams inside me, hard. I cry out again and push my ass back on him, meeting his thrusts. He suddenly smacks my right cheek with his palm and I shudder. He smacks the left cheek just before he slams into me again, and I feel like I’m going to simply die from the pleasure.
He continues to alternate lightly spanking me while fucking me, and when I hear his breath catch, and know that he’s almost there, I reach down between my legs and fondle his scrotum.
“Fuck!” He cries out and grips my hips roughly, pulling me rhythmically against him as he succumbs to his orgasm.
He pulls out of me and I fall onto my chest, ass still in the air. I can’t move.
I don’t care.
“Well, that’s a gorgeous sight,” Leo murmurs with a grin as he walks back into the room from discarding the condom. I open one eye and stare at him.
“You broke me.”
He laughs as he settles next to me, rolling me onto my side and into his arms. “I don’t think so.”
“Mmm.”
“Look at me.” I pull my eyes open to find him frowning down at me. “Are you okay?”
I nod and yawn and shimmy closer to him. He runs his knuckles down my face and his expression softens.
“Thank you for my song,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome.”
“Are you going to record it?” I ask, blinking lazily up at him.
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
I shrug. “I don’t mind. You just don’t usually do many ballads.”
“It’s a badass ballad, not a pussy ballad,” he mutters defensively and I smile widely.
“Definitely badass,” I agree.
“Go to sleep, baby.” He kisses my forehead.
“Not tired,” I mutter and smile when his chuckle rumbles against my cheek.
“Sure you’re not.” He kisses my forehead again and sighs deeply, contentedly, and the sound of his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his arms around me lull me into sleep.
***
“No, no, no!”
I wake abruptly, eyes wide, to find Leo thrashing in his sleep, soaked in sweat. The covers have all been kicked onto the floor, along with his pillow. He’s not touching me at all, and the sounds coming from him are tortured, strained.
“Leo?” I ask carefully, not knowing if I should touch him, or even wake him. He thrashes again and grimaces, as if in pain.
“No, you motherfucker!” Tears begin to fall from his eyes.
What the fuck is this?
“Leo, wake up,” I state firmly, and touch his arm gently. He recoils from my touch and his eyes spring open. He sits straight up and shoves himself against the headboard, pulling away from me as if I’m going to hurt him.
“Hey, sweetie, it’s me,” I croon quietly. “You’re okay.”
He blinks at me for a minute, looks around the room, and then exhales deeply.
“Fuck,” he whispers and clenches his eyes closed before pressing the heels of his hands against them.
“Leo.” I reach out for him, but he recoils again.
“Don’t touch me.” His voice is harsh. Angry.
Not Leo.
“Okay.” I hold my hands up and back away. “Okay.”
Suddenly, his eyes go wide and he grips his hands over his mouth, flees the bed for the bathroom and throws up violently.
Oh my God. My poor Leo.
What should I do? I sit still for a minute, and when it sounds like the retching is over, I stand and wet a washcloth and press it to his neck, like he did for me when I was sick. Before I can pull my hand away, he grips it in his and holds on tight, pressing it against his cheek.
“Don’t go. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” I sink to my knees beside him and stroke his hair, his cheek, his back. “I’m here.”
His eyes are clenched shut and he’s concentrating on breathing. Whatever it was that he was dreaming about is still repeating in his mind, and it’s terrifying him.
“Stop,” I murmur and kiss his temple. “You’re safe, Leo. It was just a dream.” I continue to reassure him and murmur softly, comforting him, until the shudders stop and he’s breathing normally again. He turns suddenly and grips onto me, buries his face in my neck, wraps his arms around my middle, and just clings.
Finally, after a few long minutes he backs away and I wipe his face with the cloth, trying to soothe him.
“I’m okay.” He takes the cloth from me and scrubs it across the back of his neck and looks at me, square-on. His eyes are sad, still a little haunted.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask.
He shakes his head and stands, crosses to the sink and rinses his mouth, splashes his face with cold water and then just braces his hands on the counter top and hangs his head while the water runs.
It occurs to me that we’re both still naked as the day we were born.
I stand and turn off the water and take Leo’s hand to lead him back to the bed. He climbs on and I pull the covers up, spreading them over us and hand him his pillow.
“I can’t go back to sleep,” he murmurs.
“The nightmares won’t bother you,” I tell him confidently and wrap myself around him, as if I’m protecting him.