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And I hunker down, surrendering to the best sleep I’ve had in years.
14
Sigurd
I should be exhausted from the day I’ve had in the hot sun, talking for hours when I never talk.
But I feel energized. Talking to Stasi stirs me up and makes me want to talk more.
Looking down at her sleeping form and watching her chest rise and fall, I want nothing more than to curl up beside her and pull her tight to me. Feel her softness in my arms and rest my body next to hers.
But I know if I give in to that urge, I’ll have the smallest taste of what I want. I will want more and more, and eventually, I’ll become so obsessed that I’ll demand all her time. I don’t know how to do relationships like an average person. You’re either fully in my life, or you’re not.
Stasi might like it at first. She might enjoy watching me go wild for her scent, her laughter, her bright eyes, her shocking red hair, her fleshy ass.
She may get off on knowing all I can think about is bending her over, spreading her cheeks, and mounting her like a wolf. If she knew how badly I want to fuck her tits, her tight hole, her ass, her mouth, her goddamn sweaty armpit, she’d have unlimited power over me. If she’d let me, I’d stick my head between those thighs and devour her so good that she comes twice, three times, or more…until she screams and fists my hair to pull me off of her oversensitive places.
She might like all of that. But sooner or later, I would want more of her, and she’d grow bored of me. I’m an outdoor boy with an indoor girl.
What do indoor people even do with their time?
One part of me is pulling me to build a fire outside. Be a gentleman and make my bed.
The other part of me wants to lie down and hold her.
As I think about this, Stasi yawns, stretching in her sleep, pushing the blankets away from her chest. The tank top of her pajamas has ridden up and twisted, and some boobage has fallen out. She turns to her side, facing me. More soft flesh escapes that flimsy garment. In the fetal position, she sighs again and snuggles closer to me.
Should I?
No. I really shouldn’t.
But…I’m a weak man who can only do so much.
My gentlemanly upbringing only goes so far.
I lie down and rest my arm around her back, and she snuggles in closer, burrowing her face against my chest.
Automatically, my face buries itself in her cloud of red hair, and I inhale her feminine, spicy scent. She hums softly at the gentle slide of my palm over her back, like a pet enjoying an epic nap. Her little sounds, smell, and movements do crazy things to my nerves.
I knew she would feel good next to me. Stasi is soft, warm, and cozy in my arms.
Stasi feels like home.
15
Stasi
The next morning, I wake to the smell of coffee, toast, and bacon.
“Good morning,” the prince says.
I roll over to find a tray table beside the bed with breakfast. The prince stands over my bed, wearing a crisp white tee shirt and tan trousers that look too business-like for fishing.
“Breakfast in bed?” I ask.
The no-nonsense prince replies, “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” I answer, sitting up and nibbling the toast. “What time is it?”
