Taking

Jetlag is a killer.

We're having a hard time adjusting to our new time zone, but otherwise everything is lovely. Friends, shows, family, fun. Just as arranged.

Something I ate didn't agree with me, and when we went to bed so, so early, my husband merely wrapped me in his arms, told me a story, and we fell asleep.

Later - much, much later, his fingers drifted across my face, he cupped my breast. His gentle touches were pulling me from the depths of sleep. I moaned softly.

"Mine," he whispered. I felt his cock pressing against my leg. His fingers kept stroking my skin - waking me up more and more. I resisted internally, though I did nothing to stop him. He'd already reminded me to whom I belonged.

"What you doing with the sleepy girl?" I asked groggily.

"I thought I might fuck the sleepy girl," he answered. He knocked my legs apart and stroked me between them, adding a slap or two for good measure.

He drew me out of sleep, he fucked me, and I thanked him for it.

"Thought it would be a shame for the fuck toy to go a night without being fucked," he said as his fingers drove me to the heights of pleasure.

After the screaming, he gathered me into his arms and squeezed me tightly. We lay awake for a long time like that, our limbs entangled. In an odd twist of events, I fell asleep before he did.

One of my favorite parts of our dynamic is when he takes what he wants - even if it means waking me from a sound sleep.

There's an indignant feeling at first, and then comes the realization that this is good and right and exactly what I've always wanted. There's a brief internal conflict and then I am swept away, all my walls down, his for the taking.

He's very, very good at this.