#panic x you

You tilted your chin up to look at him, shadows cutting across his sharp jaw. “Just thinking about how I should be too tired to move, but…” You let your hand trail down his chest, the ridges of his muscles sticky with heat, then lower, hovering just above the waistband of his sweats. His eyes flicked down, following the movement.

“But?” he prompted, already smirking.

“But you’re impossible to resist.”

His laugh was soft, low, and cocky all at once: so Ray. He shifted beneath you, rolling so that your back pressed to the sheets and he hovered over you, braced on his forearm. The look in his eyes was half hunger, half adoration, and it made your stomach flutter.

“Guess I’ll just have to wear you out then,” he teased, brushing his lips against yours. “See if you still feel like starting something after I’m through with you.”

You smiled into the kiss, fingers sliding into his damp hair, tugging lightly. “Is that a threat or a promise?” Ray groaned against your mouth, already pressing closer, already proving that he meant every word.

Ray kissed you hard, the kind of kiss that blurred into heat and teeth and need. His mouth was rough but steady, the sort of kiss that made you arch into him, chasing more before you even realized you were doing it. His hand slid under your tank top, calloused fingers dragging up your ribs before he tugged the fabric over your head and tossed it somewhere on the floor.

“God, look at you,” he muttered, half dazed, half cocky as he leaned back just far enough to take you in. His thumb brushed over your nipple, making you shiver. “Never gonna get over this. Over you.”

His praise lit you up, sent warmth rushing through your body that had nothing to do with the sticky heat of summer. You pulled him back down, biting his lower lip until he groaned, his hips rutting against you in a way that left no question of what he wanted.

The first round was fast. Desperate. Ray pressed you into the mattress, your legs hooked around his waist, his thrusts sharp and hungry. He kissed you through it, groaning when your nails dragged down his back, urging him harder, deeper. The fan whirred uselessly in the corner as sweat slicked your skin, every movement loud in the quiet room—the creak of the bed, the slap of his hips, the breathless way he whispered your name.

You came quickly, your body wound tight from hours of teasing touches before. Ray followed right after, burying himself deep with a broken groan, his forehead pressed to yours like he could fuse you together.

You thought that would be it; that he’d collapse and you’d both drift off. But Ray wasn’t finished.

Not even close.

Round two started with him rolling you onto your stomach, kissing down your spine as he lined himself up again. He pushed in slower this time, savoring the way you clenched around him, savoring your gasp into the pillow. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise as he pulled you back against him, setting a steady, relentless pace. You cried out, muffled, and he chuckled breathlessly.

“That’s it, take it for me. Doing so good.”

The second orgasm left your legs trembling, your voice broken. Ray followed not long after, collapsing against your back, his body heavy and hot. But even then, he didn’t stop.

The third time, he took it slower, softer; kissing your face, your neck, whispering how perfect you were while he rocked into you at a lazy rhythm. You held him close, nails scraping gently through his hair as he chased another release, his stamina surprising you.

By the time he came again, his body was shaking from exhaustion. He groaned into your neck, muttering something incoherent about how you were going to kill him, how he couldn’t get enough, how you ruined him in the best way. When he finally pulled back, his chest heaved with ragged breaths. His hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, and he looked like the most beautiful mess you’d ever seen.

You kissed him slow, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, whispering, “Still think you can wear me out?”

Ray laughed, hoarse and breathless, collapsing onto the bed beside you. “Pretty sure I just wore myself out,” he admitted, though the way his arm immediately wrapped around your waist betrayed how unwilling he was to let go.

But you weren’t about to let him leave you empty, not yet.

Ray’s arm was still heavy across your waist when you shifted closer, kissing the damp skin of his shoulder. He hummed, half-asleep already, but his grip tightened instinctively like he wasn’t ready to let you go. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, the kind that came after you’d wrung him dry, after you’d pulled three orgasms out of him like he didn’t know when to quit.

You brushed his messy hair back from his forehead. “Hey,” you whispered, a little teasing. “You tapping out on me already?” His lips curved into a lazy smirk without even opening his eyes. “Don’t… don’t push your luck,” he muttered, voice rough, slurred with exhaustion. “You wore me the fuck out, baby.”

“Mm. Maybe I just like keeping you close.”

You slid your hand down his stomach, over the trail of sweat-slick hair, until your fingers brushed him where he was still softening. He hissed quietly at the touch, eyelids fluttering open as he looked at you. His eyes were hazy but warm, that cocky edge softened by something almost tender.

“You’re insane,” he said, though his hips tilted up slightly into your hand. “Don’t tell me you want more.”

“Not more,” you admitted, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Just… this.”

Guiding him back between your thighs, you eased yourself down onto him again, slow and deliberate. He groaned low in his chest as you took him, the sound half protest, half pleasure, like he couldn’t believe you were doing this but wasn’t about to stop you. His arms tightened around you when you settled fully, his cock stretching you open even though he was softening, the sensation so deep it made you shiver.

“Fuck,” he breathed, forehead pressing to yours. “You’re—god, you’re warm. You’re crazy, but…” His words trailed off into another groan as you clenched gently around him. “...you feel too good.”

You smiled against his mouth, brushing your lips over his as you whispered, “Just stay like this. Just stay inside me, mh?”

Ray let out a shaky laugh, the kind that carried more affection than humor. He shifted enough to get comfortable, wrapping his arm tighter around your waist until your body was plastered against his chest, his cock buried deep and still.

“Guess I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, finally giving in. “You win.” You kissed his throat, feeling his pulse thrum under your lips. The intimacy of it all—the fullness, the closeness, the heat of his skin pressed to yours—made you melt. Ray sighed, the sound low and content, and within minutes, his breathing evened out.

He fell asleep inside you, still buried in your warmth, his body wrapped around yours like you were the only thing tethering him to the world. And for a while, you just stayed there; cockwarming him, feeling every slow heartbeat between you, unwilling to let the moment end. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep like that.

One minute you were tucked into Ray’s chest, his cock buried deep and heavy inside you, his arm an anchor across your waist and the next, you were blinking awake in the dark, the air heavier, quieter, the cicadas replaced by the deeper silence of the dead of night.

Ray was still out cold beneath you. His chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths, warm puffs of air ghosting across your hair. His grip had loosened just enough for you to shift without waking him, though his cock was still sheathed inside you, thick and warm and pulsing faintly even in sleep. The awareness of it made your stomach twist with a needy ache you hadn’t expected.

You should’ve left it at that. You should’ve let him rest, content with the closeness but the dull throb between your thighs made it impossible to stay still.

At first, it was small. Just a subtle roll of your hips, testing. The drag of his softened length against your walls still sparked something electric, even this slow. You bit your lip, suppressing a whimper, your hand fisting in the sheets as you rocked again, just to feel that stretch.

Ray groaned faintly in his sleep, shifting beneath you, but didn’t wake. Encouraged, you let your hips roll more steadily, a lazy grind that sent tingles up your spine. Each movement stoked the fire lower in your belly, your clit brushing against the soft curls at his base, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

You pressed your forehead to his chest, muffling the quiet moan that slipped out. God, it felt good—indulgent, selfish, the kind of pleasure that came from using him while he slept; a reminder of the talk you both had about somnophilia before and how it's something you both agreed to.

He was warm, filling, his cock dragging deliciously against sensitive walls with every roll of your hips. Your pace grew a little bolder, a little more needy, your body betraying how badly you wanted release. You circled your hips, ground down harder, the wetness between your thighs making it easier, slicker, filthier.

That’s when you heard it; a sharp inhale above you. “...Baby?”

Ray’s voice was hoarse, thick with sleep. You froze for half a second, but his cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was awake now. He shifted beneath you, his hand sliding down to your hip, holding you still for a moment before squeezing, guiding.

“You’re—fuck—” He laughed softly, breathless, still half-asleep but already turned on. “You’re using me in my sleep? That's what I woke up to?” You bit your lip, heat rushing to your face, but you didn’t stop moving; just ground down slowly, deliberately, meeting his lazy gaze in the dark. “Couldn’t help it,” you whispered, voice trembling with need. “You feel so good, Ray.”

His grip on your hip tightened, his smirk sleepy but full of praise. “Fuck, of course you couldn’t. My girl’s insatiable.”

He let you keep grinding, let you ride the half-hard stretch of him, his thumb stroking circles on your skin as if to encourage you. “Go on,” he murmured, voice rough but tender. “Use me, baby. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Ray’s palm splayed across your hip, heavy and grounding, but he didn’t stop you. He let you roll, let you grind, his body waking up to the slow rhythm of your need. His cock was swelling again inside you, stretching you tighter with every lazy rock of your hips.

“Jesus,” he muttered, his voice low, rough with sleep. “You’re really fuckin’ doing this.” His thumb brushed up your side, coaxing, encouraging. “Waking me up like this, grinding on me like you own me.”

You hid your face in his neck, whining softly as you kept moving, the drag of his length sparking all through you. “I do own you,” you whispered, muffled against his skin. Ray laughed, breathless, his hand sliding lower to grab your ass and squeeze. “Yeah, you do. You got me, baby. You can do whatever the hell you want with me.”

The praise only made you wetter, made the glide easier as you lifted yourself slightly and sank back down, slow and deliberate. He groaned at the motion, his cock now fully hard again, filling you in a way that made your toes curl. “Fuck,” Ray whispered, tilting his head back against the pillow, his jaw tight. “You’re so good, so greedy for me even after hours. Can’t even let me sleep, huh?”

“Needed you,” you admitted, your voice shaky as you rolled your hips again, finding that perfect angle that made your clit grind against him. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

Ray’s eyes fluttered shut, but the way his hand guided your hips betrayed just how much he loved hearing it. “God, you’re perfect,” he groaned. “So fuckin’ perfect when you use me like this. My girl.”

You set a slow rhythm, rocking into him, drawing out every sound he gave you—low groans, half-laughs, muttered curses that melted into praise. Every thrust down stretched you, filled you, built the heat in your belly higher until you were biting back moans against his chest.

He kept his eyes on you when they finally opened, glassy with arousal but soft with something else, something tender. His thumb brushed over your hipbone as he whispered, “That’s it, take your time. Ride me slow, baby, make yourself come.”

And with his praise ringing in your ears, you ground down harder, chasing the edge with a hunger that made you shake.

The room was hushed except for the slick sound of your hips meeting his, the wet drag of his cock as you worked him slowly, deliberately. Each grind sent a pulse of pleasure through you, slow-burning but relentless, winding tighter and tighter.

Ray’s hands never left you: one gripping your hip to steady your rhythm, the other tracing lazy circles over your lower back. His eyes were half-lidded, his grin lazy and wrecked, but the words spilling from his mouth made your whole body flush hot. “God, look at you, taking me so good. So fucking greedy, baby. You like riding me half-asleep? Like using me like this?”

“Yes,” you gasped, the word breaking as you circled your hips, grinding down harder. “Needed you, Ray—needed to feel you.” He groaned, his head tipping back into the pillow, neck taut with strain as he fought not to lose it too soon. “Fuck, you’re perfect. You’re mine, all mine.”

Your nails dug into his chest as your rhythm faltered, pleasure clawing up your spine. He noticed immediately, his hand pressing your hips down harder, guiding you through it. “That’s it. Don’t stop, come on me, baby, come on my cock.” The combination of his praise, the stretch, the delicious drag against your walls pushed you over. You came with a broken cry, pussy clenching tight around him, your thighs trembling as your body shook with release.

Ray cursed low and filthy, his grip on you tightening as your spasms milked him. He thrusted up into you once, twice, then groaned deep in his chest as he spilled inside you, hot and thick, his body arching off the mattress.

The rhythm dissolved into stillness, your body collapsing against his as both of you caught your breath. His arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you tight against his chest, his cock still buried deep inside, twitching with aftershocks.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered against your hair, still panting. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.” You laughed weakly, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Worth it?”

He tilted your chin up, kissed you slow and messy, his lips tasting of sweat and exhaustion and pure affection. “Always worth it. You’re the best fucking thing that ever happened to me.”

You melted into him, your body still trembling but your heart so full it nearly hurt. His hands smoothed up and down your back, grounding you, his cock still softening inside you but neither of you making a move to separate.

Eventually, Ray shifted, pulling the sheets higher over both of you, wrapping you even closer. His voice was low, tender now, stripped of all cocky edges.

“Sleep, baby,” he murmured, brushing a kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you.”

And with him still filling you, his arms tight around you, you finally drifted off—sated, loved, and completely his.