It started in the middle of the night.

You woke up to JJ shifting behind you — warm skin pressed to your back, arm slung heavy over your waist. His chest rose and fell against you, steady… but his hips?

Grinding.

Slow. Lazy. Just enough to feel the outline of his cock stiffening through his boxers.

You squirmed a little in response, letting out a sleepy sigh — and that’s when he really moved. One hand slipped under your shirt, fingers grazing your stomach before sliding lower, into your panties.

He froze.

“Holy fuck,” JJ breathed, his voice rough and raspy from sleep. “You’re soaked.”

You could barely form a sentence, still half-dreaming. “I… don’t know why…”

He rolled you onto your back, eyes burning into yours even in the dim light.

“Don’t know why?” he echoed, sliding two fingers through your folds, then pulling them out — glossy, dripping. He stared at them like he was hypnotized. “You’re dripping, baby. I haven’t even touched you yet.”

You whimpered when he brought his fingers to your mouth and slipped them past your lips, watching you suck your own arousal off them like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “I haven’t even been inside you today. You just missed me that bad?”

“I was dreaming about you,” you admitted, blushing.

JJ’s smirk turned wicked. “Yeah? What was I doing in the dream?”

You bit your lip. “Everything.”

That was all it took.