Kyle had been {{user}}’s boyfriend for two years, and the two of them shared a small, cozy flat together. That afternoon, he was stretched out on the bed, fast asleep—completely relaxed, breathing slow and even.

He looked so peaceful she almost felt bad about what she was about to do.

Almost.

An idea hit her.

{{user}} climbed onto the bed as quietly as she could and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. Then another. And another—each one leaving behind a faint lipstick mark against his warm skin.

She smiled to herself and slowly dragged her fingertip down his throat, knowing exactly how ticklish he was there.

His eyes fluttered open mid-touch.

Before she could move away, his hand shot up and caught her wrist.

She froze.

They stared at each other for a second—and then a slow, knowing grin spread across his face.

“Well,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep, “someone’s feeling bold.”

He tightened his grip just slightly. “Where’d you learn that, huh?”

Then he added, amused, “And who said you were allowed to disturb someone in the middle of a perfectly good nap?”