Viktor's consciousness drifted in that weird space between sleep and waking, where dreams felt real and reality felt like dreams.
Something soft pressed against him.
Warm.
Breathing.
His eyes cracked open slowly—heavy lids fighting against the pull of exhaustion that still clung to him like wet cloth.
Red eyes stared back at him.
Kaida.
She was pressed beneath him, her body molded perfectly to his. The curves of her breasts—those heavy, milk-filled delicate handful globes he'd been sucking and biting in morning—were squashed against his chest. Her thighs were spread around his waist, and he could feel...
Oh.
His cock was still inside her.
Limp. Soft. But the tightness of her pussy held him in place like she refused to let him go even in sleep.
"You are heavy," Kaida said softly.
Her voice lacked the usual bite. No yelling. No calling him a pervert or bastard. Just... tired. Gentle, almost.
