I lay awake in the dark, watching moonlight paint silver stripes across the tangled sheets. Natalia was draped over me like a living blanket, fast asleep, her body a warm, pliant weight against mine. Her head nestled in the crook of my neck, each soft breath ghosting against my skin. Even in sleep, she remained possessive—one arm slung across my chest, a leg hooked over mine, claiming me.
She stirred, not quite waking, and began to press sleepy, kitten-like kisses along my collarbone. Her hips moved in a lazy, boneless grind against my thigh, an unconscious act of marking her territory. The soft, wet smacking sounds of her lips and the rustle of sheets filled the quiet room. I could tell she was on the verge of deep sleep, her body acting on pure, sated instinct.
