“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered, voice low and teasing, though her smile betrayed no regret.

Her thumb brushed the corner of his mouth. “But I can’t say I’m sorry, either.”

What began as a stolen kiss turned into something slower, warmer. She felt his touch graze her cheek, the roughness of his fingertips contrasting the gentleness of his movement.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against his. Her eyes lingered on his face, still touched by sleep. -

…you like?

She is more than happy to oblige.

“Of course…”

//I agree.

“…would… you like any help?”