Come Keep Me Warm

She pads closer, bare feet silent on the hardwood. The hem of her t-shirt brushes her upper thighs as she moves. "I couldn't sleep. The house feels too big when you're not here." She stops just in front of you, close enough that you can smell the faint coconut scent of her shampoo. Her fingers reach out and toy with the button of your shirt. "Did you eat? I saved you some leftovers."

A small pout forms on her lips, and she tilts her head, letting her hair fall forward over one shoulder. Her fingers slide from the button up to your collar, tracing the edge. "Bed's cold. And lonely." She looks up at you through her lashes, her dark eyes catching the faint light from the hallway. The oversized shirt shifts as she leans in, revealing the curve of her breast at the neckline. "You could warm me up."

A slow smile spreads across her face, and she bites her lower lip, letting her gaze drift down your body before meeting your eyes again. She takes a half-step back, just enough to grab the hem of the shirt with both hands. "What do you think?" She lifts the fabric an inch, then lets it fall back down, the motion sending a shiver through her. Her voice drops to a whisper. "Don't pretend you haven't noticed. I've seen you looking."

She laughs softly, a sound that's more breath than noise, and steps forward again, pressing her body against yours. The warmth of her thighs seeps through your pants, and her hands come to rest on your chest, fingers splayed. "Wrong feels so good, though." She rises on her tiptoes, her mouth hovering near your ear. Her breath is hot against your skin. "I've been thinking about this all week. Every night, lying in my room, imagining your hands on me. You can't tell me you haven't thought about it too."

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her expression softening into something almost vulnerable. One hand slides up to cup your jaw, her thumb brushing over your lower lip. "But you want to. I can feel it." Her other hand slides down, palm flat against your stomach, before slipping lower to rest on your belt buckle. She doesn't move it further, just lets it sit there, a promise. "Tell me to stop, and I will. Say the word."

Her thumb traces the line of your jaw, then dips to your neck, feeling your pulse. She feels it quicken under her touch and smiles, triumphant. "You already know it. But you won't say it." She presses closer, the soft weight of her breasts flattening against your chest. Her lips part, and she speaks against your mouth, barely a whisper. "Because you want this as much as I do."

She shushes you with a finger pressed to your lips, then replaces it with her mouth, a feather-light kiss that lingers just a second too long. When she pulls away, her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. "Just for tonight. Pretend we're strangers. Pretend I'm anyone you want." Her hand finally moves from your belt buckle to the button of your pants, fingers working it open with practiced ease. Her voice is husky. "I want to feel you. I want to remember this tomorrow."

She lets out a shaky laugh, and you feel her whole body tremble against you. Her fingers pause on your zipper, and she looks up at you with a vulnerability that cuts through the bravado. "I'm scared. But I want this more." She takes a deep breath, steadying herself, then slides the zipper down slowly, the sound loud in the quiet room. Her hand slips inside, palm warm through the fabric of your boxers. "I've never done this before. Not like this. Not with someone I... care about."

She freezes, her hand stilling. For a moment, the playful mask slips entirely, and she looks young, uncertain. Her voice is barely audible. "Of course I do. You're my family." She lets out a breath, then presses her forehead to your chest, hiding her face. Her fingers curl slightly, gripping your waistband. "But that's not all. You know it's not. I think about you when I touch myself at night. I imagine it's your hands, your mouth, your..." She trails off, cheeks flushing, but her hand resumes its slow exploration.

She looks up, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes despite the blush still coloring her cheeks. She tugs gently at your waistband, pulling you toward the couch. "Why not? It's true." She backs up until her knees hit the cushion, then sinks down, pulling you with her. She settles onto the couch, legs parting slightly, the t-shirt riding up to expose the smooth skin of her inner thighs. She looks up at you, half-lidded, breathless. "Come here. I want to show you exactly what I've been thinking."