I stirred awake slowly, that heavy, half-dream feeling clinging to me as I blinked against the faint crust in the corners of my eyes.

  My body didn't want to move yet—it felt like it was still sinking into the mattress. By the light slipping through the curtains, it had to be around nine in the morning.

  Mornings used to be the worst for me. Cold. Quiet.

  With Elena, mornings always meant her arm going off too early, the rustle of clothes, the bed cooling almost instantly once she left. Some days I stayed behind, staring at the ceiling.

  But most days, I'd drag myself up to make her lunch or breakfast, just to feel useful, just to feel needed before the door closed behind her.

  But this was different.

  With Car, mornings felt... warm.

  Her arms were wrapped around me, solid and protective, like she'd anchored herself there and decided not to let go. Her body heat soaked into me, chasing away that old familiar chill.

  I shifted slightly, careful not to wake her, and felt how comfortably sore I was—tired in that deep, lingering way that reminded me of everything from the night before.

  She'd been rougher than usual, more intense, but there was something about it that stayed with me. Maybe it was the way she kept murmuring soft, affectionate things, grounding me, reminding me I was wanted, that I belonged there with her.

  The contrast stuck in my chest—the strength in her touch paired with the tenderness in her voice.

  I rexed back into her embrace, a small, sleepy smile forming before I could stop it, letting myself enjoy the quiet.

  Right as I thought I might drift back into sleep, I felt Car stir beside me. The subtle shift of her body was enough—my eyes opened immediately, drawn to her like muscle memory.

  I tilted my head up toward her, still half-wrapped in warmth and drowsiness.

  "Good morning," I murmured, lifting myself just enough to kiss her cheek, soft and lingering.

  "Good morning, Miguel," she replied, her voice still low and husky with sleep. Her hand slid along my spine, slow and deliberate, tracing zy patterns as if grounding herself in the moment, in me, as she fully woke up.

  I melted into her touch. "You're so warm," I said quietly, my fingers moving on their own, gliding over her stomach. "So ripped... but still so soft."

  I traced along her abs, feeling the solid strength beneath my hand—smooth, sculpted, almost unreal. "You're so hot," I added with a small ugh, half-awed, half-adoring.

  She chuckled, the sound vibrating lightly against me. "Nice, aren't they?" she teased, clearly enjoying the attention. "Keep rubbing them like that."

  I smiled against her, content, letting the morning stretch on slowly—no rush, no cold, no emptiness. Just us, tangled together, wrapped in warmth and that quiet, intimate calm that made everything else fade away.

  My fingers trailed downward, inch by inch, brushing through the soft, tangled curls of her pubic hair.

  Sleeping naked with her was pure bliss—our bare skin pressed together, the warmth of our unclothed bodies melding in the quiet of the early morning.

  There was something so intimate, so raw and romantic, about sharing that vulnerable closeness through the night.

  "Morning handy?" she murmured, her voice husky with sleep as she shifted even closer, her body curving into mine. Her breasts pressed against my chest, and I could feel the heat of my breath brushing over her skin, grazing her full, soft curves.

  It was like a primal instinct took over—my lips found her nipple, hard and beckoning, and I closed my mouth around it, sucking gently at first, then with more hunger, tasting the faint salt of her skin.

  My hand continued its descent, fingers tracing the delicate folds of her pussy lips, feeling the warmth and slight dampness there.

  I rubbed slowly, savoring every shiver that rippled through her body. Slipping one finger inside her, I felt her tightness grip me as I moved in and out, my thumb finding her clit and circling it with a steady rhythm.

  All the while, I kept my mouth tched onto her breast, suckling harder, my tongue flicking over her nipple as I drew soft gasps from her lips.

  She moaned, a low, sweet sound that vibrated through me, her hips shifting slightly to meet my touch. "That's it... good boy," she whispered, her voice dripping with approval, her fingers threading through my hair to hold me close.

  The praise sent a thrill down my spine, igniting something deep inside me.

  I loved hearing it, loved knowing I was pleasing her, and it only made me want to keep going, to draw out more of those sounds, more of that heat between us.

  "Wow~" she gasped, her voice breaking with a shudder as her body tensed under my touch.

  "Cum on my hand," I urged, my voice low and rough, as I quickened the pace of my fingers. Her pussy made wet, squelching sounds, slick and hot around me, and I could see her toes curl tight, her feet arching from the intense pleasure rippling through her.

  "Holy shit..." Car breathed out, her words barely audible between sharp pants.

  I reluctantly pulled my mouth from her nipple, the taste of her skin lingering on my lips, and leaned up to capture her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.

  I could feel how close she was, her body trembling beneath me, and as our lips locked, she moaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating against my tongue.

  Her orgasm hit hard, her hips bucking as she came, her warm, clear liquid coating my hand, dripping down my fingers in a slick, slimy mess.

  "My god..." she groaned, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath, her breasts rising and falling with each ragged inhale. "I'll have someone clean the sheets ter," she muttered, her eyes fluttering closed, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

  She'd come so insanely hard, her whole body was still vibrating with aftershocks, tiny tremors running through her as she y there, spent and satisfied.

  "Can you make chocote bacon pancakes?" Car murmured zily, her voice thick with sleep and satisfaction, eyes still closed as she sank deeper into the pillows.

  I didn't even have to think about it. "Anything for you," I replied instantly, already smiling as I shifted closer to the edge of the bed.

  I slid my legs out from under the covers, the cool air brushing my skin as I slipped my feet into my slippers. I gnced back at her—hair messy, expression soft, completely rexed in a way that made my chest ache in the best way.

  "Meet you in the kitchen?" I asked, already halfway standing.

  "Yeah," she answered without opening her eyes, a faint, satisfied smile tugging at her lips. She looked utterly spent, like the world could wait a little longer for her.

  I chuckled quietly to myself and headed out, the promise of pancakes and the comfort of knowing she'd be waiting making the morning feel perfect.

  ——