... and in the dead hours of the night, I wake again.
I'm not sure how long I've slept, but my sleep was deep and dreamless and has served its purpose. I'm, if not exactly rested, at least no longer exhausted. My head has cleared.
Beside me, Mitch lies, a silhouette against the glimmer-dark, her breathing soft and even. Somehow in the night, we've exchanged positions and now I'm spooned up against her and...
Ahhh...
... now I know what woke me...
...... my hardness presses against her spine.
Would she mind?
From behind, I nuzzle close, nibbling into the crook of shoulder and neck, inhaling her aroma, revelling in the sense of peace I have simply from being here.
Mitch stirs and I pause, then when she lies still once more, I continue mouthing my way over her shoulders.
But although she's still, her breathing has changed, deepening, becoming louder. "I thought you were tired?" It could sound grouchy, but humour smiles from her words.