Fiction: The next level

I stir in my sleep, only to feel the weight of your arm across my stomach. Your warm breath caresses my neck as you bury yourself a little deeper into the sheets, unwilling to wake up just yet. I gently lift your arm, draw you closer and turn to face you. You open one eye, as if to assess whether the situation is conducive to waking up. And then, deciding to stay in just a bit longer, you pull me into your embrace, sliding me across the bed as if I weigh nothing at all. I plant a little kiss on your chest as I look up into your eyes. My fingers seek your soft, silky hair, wanting just a little more from you. You take the hint. When have you not? Before I can react, you’ve pinned me under your body, caressing my hips and kissing my shoulders. Memories of last night come flooding back as the blush rises to my cheeks. But I know I want more. Your kisses heat up as you make love to me, again. Just like you have for many months now. By the time we both fall back on the bed, exhausted, the sun is already up. You draw me close, my hair a bunch of messy curls and my lips, a scandalously deep shade of red. Before I can say anything, you look deep into my eyes and say, “I can’t stay away one more night. Move in with me.” And this time, I know I can’t refuse.