The first light of dawn filtered through the dense canopy, casting golden streaks across the clearing. The air was cool, crisp, the scent of dew and earth mingling with the faint smell of smoke from the dying fire.
Angela lay beside me, her breath slow, steady, her body pressed against mine. The insistent hardness between my legs pressed against her, unignored, demanding.
I shifted, my eyes flickering open to find her staring at me, her gaze locked on the damp spot where my drool had marked her shirt.
Before she could react, I leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss—soft at first, then harder as she responded, her lips pressing back with a fierce, hungry urgency.
A soft, breathy moan escaped her, her cheeks flushing a deep pink as she shifted closer, her body responding instinctively, molding against mine.
