#wwe smackdown

You moaned, loud and broken, legs locked tight around his waist as he fucked you deep and mean. His mouth was right at your ear, voice low and cruel. Hot breath against the shell of it.

“Listen to that sloppy fuckin’ pussy.”

He was growling. Hips snapping hard enough to make the bed creak underneath you. 

“You creamin’ all over my dick. You really needed this, huh? Just spread them legs and took it.”

You moaned louder, nails digging into his back as your walls clenched around him. He just felt so thick. So hot. Stretching you open with every rough stroke. 

Every thrust making a loud, rhythmic plap. The heavy, fleshy collision of his hips meeting yours. The slick friction echoing sharp and constant in the room.

It was all so much— your thighs shook beneath him, arousal coating his length and dripping steadily down to soak the sheets. Every time he bottomed out, you could feel it deep in your stomach.

“Jey— fuck!”

“Yeah, that’s right,” he rasped, teeth scraping your ear hard enough to sting. “You better say my name. Ain’t nobody else fuckin’ your shit up this good.”

His weight pressed you deeper into the mattress, chest slick with sweat. Sliding heavy against yours. You could feel every inch of him. The thick stretch, him grinding on your clit when he rolled his hips, the heat pouring off his skin like a furnace. Your pussy was fluttering and clenching helplessly around him.

You were so wet. Embarrassingly wet. The lewd squelch of it was louder than your own moans.

He shifted, hooking one of your legs higher up over his shoulder, so he could fuck you deeper. The new angle made you cry out. His voice dropped even lower, right against your ear, mean and filthy and relentless.

“Look at you— can’t even talk. Taking this dick so good you ain’t thinkin’… Mhm, all you know how to do is let me use you.”

You were burning up. Skin sticky with sweat. The heat between your bodies was almost unbearable. His perfect cock was dragging against your walls with every thrust, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur.

You were so close. So fucking close. Thighs shaking, pussy clenching tighter and tighter around him as you felt that hot pressure build low in your belly.

“J-Jey, please—”

He laughed low and dark against your ear, his hips snapping harder.

“Yeah? You gon’ cum for me like a good little whore? Do it.”

Everything tightened. The heat, the stretch, the drag of his cock, his voice growling filth right into your ear— until it snapped.

Your eyes flew open with a sharp, desperate gasp.

The bedroom was dark and quiet. The only light was a thin sliver from the cracked bathroom door. For one disorienting second you had no idea where you were.

The dream was still clinging to you, thick and heavy and far too real. Your heart was hammering so hard it felt like it was trying to punch its way out of your chest. Your skin was on fire, actual fire. A deep, feverish heat radiating from the inside out.

Sweat had already cooled on your chest and the back of your neck, leaving your thin tank top plastered to you like a second, sticky layer. The sheets were twisted around your legs, clinging in damp patches to the backs of your thighs and the curve of your ass.

You rolled onto your side, breathing fast and shallow, trying to calm down. But your body clearly hadn’t gotten the memo.

Between your thighs, you were soaked. Truly, embarrassingly soaked. Your panties were drenched, the fabric cold and tacky where it sat clinging to your swollen folds. Your clit was throbbing so hard it almost hurt. Each pulse sending sharp little shocks of need straight up your spine.

Your pussy felt empty and aching. A deep, gnawing itch you just couldn’t scratch, clenching uselessly around nothing. That imaginary stretch and fullness from the dream was still there, echoing between your legs like a cruel joke. 

You could still feel the heavy drag of his cock, the way it split you open, the way it bottomed out so deep you could feel it in your stomach.

But there was nothing now.

No weight pinning you down. No hot breath in your ear growling filthy things. No thick stretch and pulse of him buried inside you.

Just sweat, the tacky cling of your skin, and the humiliating wetness soaking through your panties and leaking onto the sheets beneath you.

Oh my god.

The thought hit you like a slap. Your face burned hotter than the rest of you. You squeezed your eyes shut, mortified, thighs pressing together so tight that it only made the ache worse.

You could still hear his cruel voice telling you how sloppy you were, how greedy, how pathetic you were for needing him that bad.

That wasn’t him.

That wasn’t your Jey.

Your Jey was soft and patient and gentle. Even when he was in control. He didn’t talk to you like that. He never has.

And yet… some traitorous part of you had liked it. Liked the edge in his voice. Liked the way he used you. Liked feeling small and filthy and completely owned.

You pressed your face into the pillow. A tiny, frustrated whimper slipping out before you can stop it.

You turned your head just enough to look at him in the low light, and the sight of him made your chest tighten.

Jey was sprawled on his stomach, limbs thrown out everywhere, taking up more than half the bed like he always did. One arm was stretched toward you, the other bent awkwardly under the pillow. His long legs tangled in the sheets, one knee hiked up, the other kicked out toward the edge.

His cheek was smashed against the pillow, face turned completely to the side, lips parted just a little. A thin string of drool shone at the corner of his mouth, slowly stretching toward the fabric. His curls were a wild mess across his forehead and the pillow, and his chain had slipped slightly so the metal rested against the pillowcase instead of his collarbone.

He looked… messy. Human. A little ridiculous.

And he was still the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

Your throat tightened.

How could I dream him like that? 

Mean and cruel and using you like you were nothing. 

This was your Jey. Soft and open and safe. Drooling on the pillow like a big kid, limbs everywhere. Breathing slow and steady like the world could end and he wouldn’t even notice.

This is the man you loved. The one who held you like you were his favorite thing in the whole world world. The one who never said a harsh word to you unless it was wrapped in so much love you couldn’t breathe.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, shame and affection crashing together so hard it almost hurt.

God, I love him. I love him exactly like this.

The thought twisted sharp and guilty in your stomach. How could your own mind twist him into something so mean? How could you want that version of him even for a second? 

But you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t even try to deny it.

Your skin was burning up from the inside out. Sweat beaded along your hairline again, trickling down your temple. Your thin tank top was now cold and damp against your breasts, sticking to your back.

Every shift of your hips made the ache worse. Every breath made the emptiness throb harder. It felt like a fire you couldn’t put out. The only thing that would make it stop was him— his hands, his mouth, his cock. Anything to fill the burning void.

You tried to ignore it. You really did.

You rolled onto your other side, pressing your thighs together as tight as you could, hoping the need would fade.

You could handle this. You could just breathe through it and go back to sleep.

He was sleeping so peacefully. He was a heavy sleeper. He deserved the rest. You didn’t want to wake him up just because your stupid brain had conjured some filthy version of him and left you wrecked and dripping like this.

But the ache only got worse.

It pulsed deeper. Hotter. More insistent. Your pussy clenched again, another rush of wetness soaking your panties until the fabric was completely useless. The burning was too deep. The emptiness hurt.

You bit down on your lip until it stung, trying to stay quiet, trying to be good, trying not to disturb him. You tried breathing slow through your nose, counting to ten, then twenty, then thirty.

You told yourself it would pass. You told yourself you didn’t need to bother him. You told yourself you were being ridiculous— it was just a dream, just your own twisted imagination, and you could handle it like a fucking adult.

But your body refused to listen.

The burning only spread, crawling under your skin, making your nipples harden against your thin top and your thighs quiver with the effort of keeping still. Another helpless roll of your hips made fresh slick leak out of you, soaking the sheets beneath your ass in a warm, humiliating patch.

The need was too strong. 

You needed him inside you. You needed him to stretch you open and fill you up and make the fire stop.

You couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Your hand reached out before you could stop yourself, fingers brushing his shoulder. His skin was warm, solid, so familiar it made your chest ache even more.

“Jey…” you whispered, voice small and shaky, barely above a breath. “Baby…?”

He didn’t wake up right away. Of course he didn’t.

Instead he made a low, grumpy little grunt in the back of his throat, the sound coming out muffled against the pillow. His face scrunched up for a second, brows pulling together like the sound of your voice was annoying him in his sleep.

One of his long arms flopped heavily across your waist, pulling you closer on instinct, but he still didn’t open his eyes. His breathing stayed deep and even, lips parted, drool still shining at the corner of his mouth.

You felt another wave of guilt crash over you. He looked so peaceful, so soft, so completely unaware. And here you were, burning up and dripping because your brain had decided to turn him into some filthy, mean version of himself in a dream.

But no matter how much that deep, dark part of your brain might want him to be just that— he wasn’t. This was a big, sleepy, ridiculous man you were talking about. One who took up half the bed and drooled on the pillow like a giant toddler.

How could you wake him up just because you were aching like this?

But the throb between your legs only got stronger. Your pussy clenched again. Another rush of wetness soaking through your panties until you could feel it starting to drip down the inside of your thighs.

You swallowed hard, cheeks burning with embarrassment, and tried again, voice even smaller this time.

“Jey… baby, I’m sorry. I just— I don’t feel good.”

He made another sleepy grunt, this one deeper, almost a groan. His arm tightened around your waist for a second, pulling you closer, but his eyes stayed closed.

You bit your lip, mortified, but the ache wouldn’t let you stop. Your hand shook as you reached up and gently brushed your fingers through his curls, trying to wake him without being too pushy.

“Jey… please,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I really need you right now.”

He finally stirred a little more. A long, dramatic groan rumbled out of him as he shifted, face scrunching up like the idea of waking up was personally offensive.

One eye cracked open just a hair, hazy and unfocused, then the other. He blinked slowly, trying to make sense of you in the dark, his voice thick and raspy with sleep.

“…Baby?” he mumbled, sounding half-confused, half-concerned. “Wha’s wrong? You okay?”

You felt your face burn even hotter. You couldn’t just say it. Not outright. Not when he looked like this.  Soft and sleepy and so completely your Jey.

“I… I had a dream,” you whispered, the words coming out shaky and embarrassed. “And I just— I woke up and I’m— I’m really hot. And I feel… I don’t know. I just, I need you. Please.”

He blinked again, slower this time, still trying to wake up fully. His brow furrowed as he studied your face, the flush on your cheeks, the way you were pressing your thighs together like you were trying to hold yourself together.

His hand slid up your side, warm and careful, palm resting on your stomach like he was trying to figure out what was going on.

“You burnin’ up,” he murmured, voice still rough and sleepy, but the concern was already there, soft and genuine. “Like, actually hot. You feelin’ sick, baby?”

You shook your head fast, ashamed, the words sticking in your throat. You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t look him in the eye and tell him you woke up from a dream where he was so mean and using you and that it left you dripping and aching so bad you couldn’t even sleep.

“I’m not sick,” you whispered, voice barely there. “I just… I need you. I need you to, to fix it. Please, Jey.”

He was quiet for a second, still half-asleep, but you saw the exact moment it clicked. His eyes widened just a fraction, the sleepy haze clearing as understanding settled in.

His hand stilled on your stomach, thumb rubbing one slow, soothing circle like he was trying to calm you down even though he was the one still waking up.

“Oh,” he said softly, voice dropping low but warm, nothing cruel in it at all. “A dream, huh?”

You nodded, face flaming hot. You couldn’t say anything else. How could you possibly explain that you’d dreamed about him degrading you and using you like a toy, when the real him was lying here looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world?

He smiled then— small, sweet, and so completely him. The corner of his mouth lifting in that lazy, boyish way that always made your chest feel too full. No smirk. No edge. Just soft affection and a hint of sleepy concern.

He shifted closer without hesitation, wrapping you up in his arms like you weighed nothing, pulling you flush against his chest so your face tucked into the warm curve of his neck.

“I got you, baby,” he whispered against your temple, pressing a gentle kiss there, then another to your hairline, then one more to the tip of your nose like he couldn’t help himself.

His voice was still rough from sleep, but it wrapped around you like a blanket. “I got you,” he repeated. “Let me take care of my girl.”

You melted into him instantly, the guilt and shame and desperate need all tangling together as his big, warm hand rubbed slow circles up and down your back.

He smelled like sleep and his cologne and home, and you felt so safe it almost hurt. This was your Jey. Not the dream version. Not the cruel one. Just this— soft and patient and so ready to give you whatever you needed, no questions asked.

He kissed your temple again, slow and lingering, then gently rolled you onto your back so you were lying beneath him. The sheets were pulled back just enough for him to see you clearly in the low light. He hovered over you, one arm braced beside your head, the other resting warm and steady on your waist.

Jey looked at you like he had all the time in the world.

His eyes moved over your face, down the flushed column of your throat, across the way your thin tank top clung to your breasts, damp with sweat. His thumb brushed slow circles over your hip bone, and when his gaze finally came back to yours, it was so soft it made your chest ache.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, voice still gravely but full of nothing but warmth. “Look at you… all pink and pretty for me. My girl.”

You made a soft, shaky sound, half-embarrassed, half-melting, and he smiled. He leaned down and started kissing you again, slow and gentle, starting at your temple and working his way lower. His mouth brushed your cheek, the corner of your jaw, then trailed down the side of your neck in a warm, unhurried path.

He pressed open-mouthed kisses there, soft at first, then a little firmer, sucking lightly until a small, dark mark bloomed under his lips. You let out a quiet, sweet little whimper, tilting your head to give him more room.

He nipped gently at the same spot, just enough to make you gasp, then immediately soothed it with a slow, warm stripe of his tongue, licking over the fresh mark. You could feel him smiling against your neck, the curve of his lips warm and happy.

He did it again. Another soft nip. Another slow lick. Another little love bite that he kissed and licked until it felt like he was worshipping every inch of skin he could reach.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured between kisses, voice low and tender. “Lettin’ me take care of you like this… so pretty when you all needy and soft for me.”

You made another soft, sweet sound, fingers threading into his curls as your back arched just a little under his mouth. He was so gentle. So careful. The complete opposite of the dream version you created.

He was slow and loving and so happy to spend all night kissing and marking and taking care of you. It was like nothing in the world mattered more than making you feel good.

Jey smiled again against your neck, pressing one more open-mouthed kiss right below your ear before he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and warm and full of that quiet adoration.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he whispered, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “I’m right here. I got you.”

His hands slid under the hem of your tank top without waiting for an answer, palms gliding slow and warm up your stomach, fingertips brushing the undersides of your breasts. He paused there, eyes locked on yours, voice soft and patient.

“This what you want?”

You nodded so fast your head spun, cheeks burning, desperate little whimpers already slipping out as you leaned into his touch. Jey’s eyes softened even more. He didn’t tease you. He just pushed the thin fabric higher, slow and careful, until your tits spilled free. Heavy, flushed, nipples already painfully hard and tight from how worked up you still were.

He let out a low, appreciative hum, eyes locked on your chest like he couldn’t look away.

“Arms up f’me,” he murmured, voice so gentle it made you chest pang.

You lifted them immediately, and he peeled the tank top the rest of the way off, tossing it somewhere off the side of the bed without even looking. The cool air hit your bare skin and you shivered, but Jey was already moving, leaning down and latching his mouth onto one of your nipples.

The wet heat of his tongue was immediate and perfect. He sucked slow and deep, lips sealed tight around the sensitive peak, tongue swirling in lazy circles that made your back arch off the mattress.

A soft, needy sound slipped out of you before you could stop it, your fingers threading back through his curls as he switched to the other breast, giving it the same slow, worshipful treatment.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration traveling straight down between your legs, and you felt him smile again. You whimpered, hips shifting restlessly beneath him. The ache between your thighs was only getting worse with every slow pull of his mouth.

But Jey took his time, switching back and forth between your breasts. He licked warm stripes over your nipples, nipping gently, then soothing each one with his tongue like he wanted to memorize the taste of you.

He lifted his head just enough to look at you, lips shiny, eyes dark and full of nothing but love.

“Still need more, baby?” he asked, voice tender, thumb brushing over one wet nipple. The touch sent sparks straight down between your legs, making your pussy clench hard around nothing. “Tell me. I’ll give you whatever you need.”

You nodded so fast your head spun, cheeks burning, the words catching in your throat. Inside your head it was a desperate frantic chant.

Dick, I need dick, I need your dick right now. Please, please, please make it stop hurting. I need you inside me so bad it hurts.

But all that came out was a shaky, embarrassed whisper.

“I just…I need you,” you breathed, voice cracking. “I need you, Jey. Please. Please make it go away. It hurts…I need you so bad.”

Jey’s eyes softened even more. He didn’t tease you. Didn’t make you say the filthy words your brain was screaming. He just nodded, already knowing exactly what you mean, and scooped you up under your arms with those big, strong hands.

In one smooth motion he flipped you both. He sat up against the headboard and pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him, facing him, your knees on either side of his hips. He held you close, one arm wrapped around your back, the other sliding up to cradle the back of your head.

He pulled you in until your face was tucked against his neck, your chest pressed to his, and he just held you there for a moment. Stroking your hair slow and soothing while he kissed the side of your neck.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m gon’ take care of you,” he murmured against your skin, lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You whimpered, hips shifting restlessly in his lap, the soaked front of your panties dragging against the hard line of his cock still trapped in his boxers. The friction was maddening. Not enough. Never enough. But it still made your clit throb harder, another rush of slick leaking out of you and soaking your panties even more.

Jey reached down between you without a word, hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and tugged them down just enough for his cock to spring free. Thick, heavy, already leaking at the tip. It slapped warm and solid against your inner thigh, and the feeling of it made your pussy clench hard around nothing. A fresh wave of desperate need rolling through you so sharp it stole your breath.

He didn’t rush.

He slid your soaked panties to the side with two fingers, the cool air hitting your drenched folds for only a second before his fingertips were there instead. He felt how wet you were– how your pussy fluttered and pulsed at the lightest touch– and he let out a soft, soothing hum against your neck like he was proud of you for being such a mess for him.

Then he started rubbing slow circles over your clit with the pads of his fingers, gentle but firm. The perfect pressure made your hips jerk forward on instinct. You whined loud and broken against his neck, the sound cracking in the quiet room as your thighs trembled on either side of his lap.

Every slow stroke sent sparks shooting up your spine, but it still wasn’t enough. It only made the emptiness inside you ache worse, made you clench and leak even more, made you feel so empty you could cry.

Please, please, please, your mind chanted, the words too embarrassing to say out loud. I need you inside me. Need your cock. Need you to fill me up right now.

“Jey– please,” you gasped, the words slipping out before you could stop it. “Please… it hurts. Please.”

Jey made a soft, soothing sound, still stroking your clit in those circles, his other hand still cradling the back of your head like you were something fragile.

“I know, baby,” he whispered, kissing your neck again, sucking a gentle mark there. “I know it hurts. I’m gon’ fix it. Gon’ give you what you need.”

He lined himself up, the thick head of his cock nudging against your entrance, and you felt him smile against your neck again.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured. “I got you.”

Then he pushed inside you– slow, steady, stretching you open inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. The relief was instant and overwhelming.

You cried out, the sound cracking in the quiet room as your walls fluttered and clenched around every thick inch of him. He filled you so perfectly, so completely, pressing against that deep, aching spot that had been throbbing for what felt like forever.

The burning eased, the emptiness vanished. It was replaced by the heavy, delicious fullness that made your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut. You could feel every vein, every ridge, the way he throbbed inside you. Hot and solid and real.

Jey groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your neck as he held you close, arms wrapped tight around your back.

“There you go,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. “You feel that? I’m right here.”

You whimpered, burying your face in ish neck, nails digging into his shoulders as your pussy fluttered around him again. You easily adjusted to the stretch, to the way he filled every empty inch of you.

The ache was still there, but now it felt good. Deep and warm and satisfied instead of painful. You rolled your hips once, experimentally, and then the drag of his cock against your walls made you moan again. It was softer this time, almost relieved.

Jey let out a quiet, happy hum, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head while the other stayed splayed across your lower back, holding you flush against him.

“Doin’ so good,” he murmured, kissing the side of your neck again, slow and sweet. “Takin’ me so well. My perfect girl.”

He didn’t move yet. Just stayed buried deep inside you. Letting you feel him. Letting you adjust. Letting you breathe through the overwhelming fullness. His thumb stroked gentle circles on your back. His lips brushed your skin in soft, lazy kisses, and you felt so safe, so full, so completely taken care of that the last bit of embarrassment melted away.

He slid an arm down to cup underneath your ass, big palm spreading wide and warm over the curve of it. He lifted you just enough to shift you higher in his lap, then slowly guided you back down onto his cock, bouncing you in a deep, unhurried rhythm that made your breath catch every time he bottomed out.

Jey didn’t let you do any of the work. He just held you there, strong muscles doing all the lifting. All the guiding. All the moving while you melted against him.

Your forehead pressed to him. Your noses brushed with every slow rise and fall of your body. His lips hovered so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath. Every few seconds he’d lean in and give you the softest, barely there kiss. Just a gentle press. A light brush. A sweet little peck that made your chest flutter even as your pussy clenched around him.

“There you go, baby,” he whispered against your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watched your face. “Just let me take care of you.”

He lifted you again, slow and steady, then eased you back down until every thick inch was buried deep inside you again. The drag was perfect– slow enough to feel every ridge, every vein, every subtle throb of him stretching your walls.

You whimpered softly, the sound swallowed by another one of his gentle kisses, your forehead still resting against his. Noses brushing. Breaths mingling.

You were so full.

So perfectly full.

Every time he guided you down, the ache eased a little more. The burning turned into a deep, warm pleasure that spread through your whole body. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in just a little, but he didn’t mind. He just kept that same slow, controlled rhythm, lifting and lowering you like you weighed nothing. Like he could do this all night if that’s what you needed.

“You feel so good,” he whispered between soft kisses, lips brushing yours, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth again. “So warm and wet and tight ‘round me. My perfect girl.”

You made a soft, broken sound, forehead pressed tighter to his, noses still brushing as he bounced you gently on his cock. The closeness was overwhelming in the best way. His breath on your skin, his eyes so close you could see every fleck of color in them.

He kissed you again, barely there, just a sweet press of lips that made your heart stutter. Then another. And another. Slow and lazy and full of love while his hands kept guiding your hips, filling you over and over.

You were still burning, but now it felt like the fire was being soothed from the inside out, replaced by something warm and safe and so, so good.

He kept the same slow, steady pace for a while longer, pulling you up and down on his cock with those big, strong hands. Forehead pressed to yours. Noses brushing. But the need inside you kept building, the ache turning sharper, hotter, needier.

Your pussy fluttered tighter around him, walls clenching with every deep stroke, and you felt yourself getting closer, the pressure coiling low in your belly.

“Jey…” you whimpered against his mouth, voice shaky. “I’m– I’m getting close…”

He made a soft, encouraging sound, eyes still locked on yours, forehead still touching.

“Go ahead, baby,” he whispered. “Cum for me. Let me feel you.”

He picked up the pace then, bouncing you a little faster, a little harder, the wet sounds of your bodies meeting growing louder in the quiet room. His hands gripped your ass tighter, lifting you higher before pulling you back down onto his cock with more force, the head dragging perfectly against that spot inside you every single time.

You moaned, the sound breaking against his lips as your whole body started to lock up. Jey leaned in and bit your bottom lip gently, just enough to sting, then soothed it with a deep, slow kiss as your orgasm crashed over you.

Your pussy clenched hard around him, pulsing, the pleasure rolling through you in hot, overwhelming waves. You cried out into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders, thighs shaking on either side of his lap as you came hard, soaking his cock even more.

Jey groaned softly against your lips, staying buried deep inside you the whole time, holding you close while your body trembled and clenched around him. He kept kissing you through it. Deep, slow, loving kisses, noses still brushing– like he wanted to feel every second of it with you.

When the last aftershocks finally faded, he stayed right where he was, cock still buried deep inside you, arms wrapped tight around you as he held you against his chest.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

“You feel better?” he asked quietly, voice warm and a little raspy. “The burnin’ gone?”

You nodded against his neck, still catching your breath, body limp in his lap. “Yeah… it’s gone. Thank you.”

Jey smiled, the curve of his lips brushing your skin, and he pulled you even closer.

“Good,” he murmured, pressing another gentle kiss to your shoulder. “Think I’ll just keep you here a little bit longer. If that’s okay with you.”

You let out a soft, content little sound, nuzzling into his neck, arms wrapped around him as you settled against his chest.

“Yeah,” you whispered, voice sleepy, eyes already drifting shut. “I’d like that.”

Jey let out a low, amused little chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. He kissed your forehead, slow and lingering, then pulled back just enough to look at you with that sleepy, playful glint in his eyes.

“Besides,” he added teasingly. “You owe me, little girl. Wakin’ me up in the middle of the night just for a good fuck… it’s a damn shame.”

Your eyes fluttered open for a second, cheeks burning hot as a shy, embarrassed smile tugged at your lips. You couldn’t believe he’d just said that. So casually. So playfully. But the way he said it, with that soft smirk and the gentle way he was still holding you, made warmth bloom in your chest instead of shame.

“You’re terrible,” you mumbled, half-laughing, half-blushing as you hid your face against his neck again.

Jey laughed quietly, the sound warm and fond, and pressed another kiss to the top of your head.

“Nah,” he whispered, lips brushing your hair. “You know you love me.”

Kept you right there, cradled close against his chest, cock still buried deep inside you, warm and full and perfect. His hand stroked slow, soothing lines up and down your back while your breathing grew softer, slower, heavier.

The last thing you felt before sleep pulled you under was the gentle press of his lips to your forehead again, and the quiet, steady beat of his heart under your cheek.

A tiny bit of drool slipped from the corner of your mouth onto his skin as you finally drifted off completely.

Jey just smiled, holding you tighter, perfectly content to stay exactly like this for as long as you needed.