Life is...

Wrapped in warmth. The familiar weight of the comforter over her. Pillow soft enough to float her gently to her dreams on most nights. But not this night.

Tonight she lays awake, listening to the howling winds outside. The moon peeking in from the edges of the curtains. The comfort of the bed should have had her sleeping. The wind screaming between the buildings should have had her shivering.

It wasn't to be, the hand resting on her belly prevented all of it. It's heat keeps her from shivering, glowing through her body. The roughened texture sliding over her skin with every breath she takes. Holding her awake.

His breath hot on her neck just below her ear. She trembles.

Pinching her eyes shut at the delicious agony of sensation. Slowly. Reluctantly, she moves. She slides into a different position. Freezing when she brushes over something and the hand that lays on her tightens.

Moving again with great care, she feels as she brushes over his groin. Jolting as his hand moves again. He rumbles in her ear as something grows against her.

She holds her breath before moving again. Softly and slowly she brushes over him. His length hardening further, this time a soft groan sounds as his hand tightens. The heat of it no longer spreads through her body. Flowing directly to her core.

Breathing slowly and deeply only emphasizes the feel of his hand on her. The rod pressing up against her. Pinching her eyes shut she moves, again and again. Clenching her legs together in tandem. Every sound she hears feeding the heat inside her.

"What are you doing?"

Her eyes snap open, but a whisper in the night yet it thundered through her.

She stammers, grasping for an answer. "I was trying to find a better position to sleep?"

She can hear the skepticism in his words as they rumble in her ear. "You've been trying to find a better position for how long now?"

Wringing the sheet in her hands she trembles for an altogether different reason. "I can't find one." Her cheeks color in her embarrassment at the weak excuse.

Long seconds pass before he speaks with a chuckle "Alright, keep looking then."

Stunned she doesn't move at his words. Lying still for long seconds. But he does, the bed dipping with his weight as he shifts. His nose tracing up along her neck while he whispers in a low and husky tone. "Or do you need my help?"

The hand that rested on her belly slides to her hip. Grasping it firmly enough that the delicious tingles force a strangled cry from her.

Slowly he makes her hips move again. Repeating her earlier motions while he nuzzles her neck. Slow and steady until she relaxes her body, going along with the motion he guides her in.

She feels his breath on her neck while sliding over the steel rod between her cheeks. Sighing at the kiss he plants between her shoulder and neck. She moans at the bite that follows. His fingers trail back up over her skin, moving in arcs along her waistband. She moves her hips on her own accord.

Biting her lip she gives a twist with her hips that has him groaning. She smirks as she continues. Until he bites her earlobe making her gasp sharply as his tongue plays with it.

Flicking the lobe he traces a line down her neck. Their movements more aggressive now. His hand moves down with purpose. Sliding beneath delicate fabric.

She twists around grabbing his chin. Their lips come together in passion. His fingers gliding lower, over smooth skin to the wetness that lays beneath.

Tongues meet. Sliding over each other. Tasting deeply.

Their dance becomes frantic.

She cries out as he reaches her lower lips. Feeling the sensation strongly enough to jerk in his arms as his fingers continue to move in tantalizing patterns.

She shudders and pulls away as she calls out his name. "Ben!"

At her cry the world ends in darkness with a plummeting sensation. Crying out as she falls. Her breath stocks. Heart racing as she can feels its beat in her ears.

Thudding on her mattress she lands with a choked scream. She sits up, drenched in sweat.

Looking about frantically. Searching the room until her eyes fall on the curtains in front of the window.

The wrong color of the curtains. Looking more carefully she notices everything wrong in the room.

A dresser next to the door, clothes peeking out.

Desk by the wall, covered in books and paper.

She falls back to the bed, remembering the last vestiges of her dream. She groans into her hands even as she rubs her thighs together. The stickiness of them pulling at her skin.

She pulls the pillow from under her, up over her mouth and screams into it.

Hugging it close to her chest she turns, curling up. Squeezing her thighs rhythmically as images of her dream flash before her eyes.

Her hand slides down under the covers, shuffling sounds in the night as she closes her eyes.