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Sorry, Were You Sleeping?

By Genevieve Darcy Granger

Romance / Erotica


Making sure someone sleeps well shows just how much you love them. Sometimes, however, how you wake someone up and when you decide to just let them be also shows just how much you care, too.

Well, Not Anymore I'm Not

In the pleasant breathlessness and bliss that came after a powerfully satisfying orgasm, Logan slipped out of Darcy, sated and spent. Feeling similarly, Darcy carefully climbed off of him before collapsing on the bed besides him, equally as satisfied and exhausted. They had been making love in his bed all night for no other reason than that they could. It had switched between loud and rough flat-out fucking to slow and passionate, tender love-making. There were plenty of kisses, be they more teeth than tongue at times, and plenty of words from expletives to names to simple sounds. Thus far, it had been a night well spent.

Still recovering from her multiple climaxes, Darcy stared up at the ceiling and tiredly passed a hand over her face. Her claws caught in her messy, tangled hair and she flopped her hand back on the bed in mild, brief frustration. She wasn’t really thinking of anything in particular, just enjoying that warm after-glow that came after good sex with someone you loved. For some reason she wasn’t quite sure of, she turned her head to check the time. The alarm clock’s blue numbers showed 12:30 a.m. and the alarm was set for 5:00 a.m. for Logan to get up for his 8:00 a.m. class. They spent too much time making love, but it was doubtlessly time well spent.

Darcy turned her head the other way to tell Logan that they should get ready for bed when she first heard his wheezy, little snores and then saw that his eyes were closed, mouth slack. He wasn’t drooling yet, but she knew there would be a wet spot on his pillow the next morning. Rarely did Logan ever get the chance to sleep so deeply as he was often haunted by nightmares from his past. In fact, that was one of the reasons that they constantly stayed up so late. Whether it be making love or getting drunk or doing their grading that they procrastinated on, they were chronically going to bed late.

By now Logan could pass for an insomniac as he forced himself to get up in the mornings. As his significant other, that almost made Darcy an insomniac, too, as she didn’t want him to stay awake by himself and think too much, or wake up and miss a decent breakfast. Too recover, she often took catnaps throughout the day, normally when he had a class to teach. After all he doubled as both the History Professor and taught Defense classes to older kids interested in becoming X-Men after graduation. The only class Darcy taught was Sexual Education, and that was to a smaller group of students. So she spent the hottest parts of the day normally asleep outside in a patch of sunshine whether it be on the patio furniture or a hammock or a picnic blanket. Logan never knew.

So now for Darcy to see Logan fall asleep first she was gratified on an emotional level compared to her physical level of gratification. She was happy because now Logan would be able to rest, and if he rested peacefully, he could probably afford to sleep in a little bit. With that in mind, she reached back over her shoulder to the alarm clock and set the alarm two hours later. Her first class in the morning wasn’t until 10:30, so she would have plenty of time to get up and get ready for that. The only problem now was that to ensure Logan sleep went undisturbed, she had to stay up and watch him.

Normally, during the small amount of time that they did sleep at night, Darcy would succumb to sleep first and Logan soon after, as he assured her. The way they slept was normally cuddling each other, wrapped tight in a tangle of arms and legs. Often they used each other for a pillow rather than their actual pillows; and the blankets and sheets would twist around their limbs and slip to only cover them from the waist down. They’d be a sweaty heap with cold feet pressed against each other, the other’s hair tickling their noses. From a distance, it looked uncomfortable; but in their pile, they were comforted by the heat and touch the other provided. Their lullaby was the sound of the other’s breathing (or in Logan’s case, snoring) and heartbeat.

Often Darcy would fall asleep still holding Logan’s hand, and the next morning she would still be grasping it just as tight. Logan said he didn’t mind, and Darcy suspected that he was telling the truth. He was starved for her affection and always ate it up when she gave it to him – which was always. Darcy could never deny him anything. She gave her all, her entire being, and everything in the world she could provide. Now, she would give him a good night’s sleep, even if it meant she couldn’t dream just as serenely alongside him.

Carefully, she shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed beside him, laying on her side with her arm propping up her head so she could keep watch while he slept. She took many precautions to make sure she didn’t jostle him or shake the mattress too much as she moved, her eyes riveted to his face to detect any sign of distress he might have. Once settled, then she slowly reached down, blinding searching for their blankets. First she pulled the sheet up until it pooled in his lap. Then she yanked the quilt comforter until it was tucked up under his chin. He preferred to feel the texture of that blanket compared to the sheet because Darcy quilted it herself one winter. It was meant to be a light blanket for their hot summer nights, but now that the seasons were starting to turn, they were going to have to switch back to a heavier cover. When she deemed he was tucked in properly, she oh, so carefully reached over where he lay prone to switch off the lamp on the bedside table. The room fell into darkness, and his snoring got louder, but he did not wake.

Assured that everything was right for Logan to sleep dreamlessly, or at least with pleasant dreams, Darcy settled down deeper into the bed beside him, only half of her body covered under the blankets. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, but without her glasses she still couldn’t see that well. She could hear his steady and deep breathing, though, doubtlessly as his snores were loud now.

Darcy was a little too cold to be able to fall asleep, and she longed to reach out and touch his bare skin, to cradle his face in her palm and press kisses to his forehead. She wanted to curl into his side and put her ear over his sternum and feel his breath ruffle her hair, to have his arm wrap over her protectively and to splay her hand over his stomach with possessive pride. But she didn’t want to risk waking him up, so she spent the rest of the night watching him almost obsessively.

At one point, he snorted and twitched, his feet and fingers jerking almost violently. On the verge of sleep herself, Darcy nearly jumped out of her skin at his unexpected movements, but recovered fast. Quickly Darcy moved in to soothe him. With practice ease she slipped her arms underneath him and moved in behind him. In this new position, she was sitting up against the headboard, their pillows propped behind her back. She was leaning over him now while he was nestled between her thighs, head now pillowed on her soft and rounded stomach. Darcy placed one hand on his forehead while the other grasped his hand firmly. Gently she rubbed her hand over his forehead in slow, measured strokes, smoothing down his hair as she went. With her other hand she intertwined her fingers with his, keeping a reassuring grip, and held their hands to his chest so she could check his heartbeat.

Under her breath she muttered to him in as smooth a voice as she could, “Hush now, my love, my darling Logan. Shush, Carcajou, and sleep, sleep and dream. Dream of anything you like or dream nothing at all. No tears, no screams, no, none tonight. Baby, sweet baby. I love you. Light of my life. My reason to be. Love, love, love. Logan, your name is Logan. You’re safe. You’re with me. You’re with those who love you, you’re with your people. You’re in my arms and I will always protect you because I love you. Please, rest. Rest easy now. No one can get you now that you’re with me. Sh, Logan, love, Logan.”

This was not the first time she had to stopped him from having nightmares, and most likely it wouldn’t be the last. Her tactic was discovered by following her instincts one night as she really didn’t want to wake him up, and so far, it worked every time. The words came to her unbidden and unpracticed, almost thoughtlessly. She just said what the felt and what she knew, deep down, what Logan wanted to hear. It was enough.

Eventually he settled back down again, lapsing back into his repetitive snoring. He suddenly got heavier as he relaxed into a deeper sleep, but Darcy didn’t mind. She knew she’d have to stay like this for the rest of the night. Logan was sprawled against her, clutching her hand to his chest like a teddy bear. Asleep on his back at in a reclined pose as he was propped against her large stomach, his elbows digging into her thighs. Darcy had her legs squeezing around him like a cocoon, the blankets tucked up to his armpits now. Her feet pressed against his thighs, slightly chilled, but quickly warming up now. The chill of her toes didn’t bother him at all.

From this angle, she could see him a lot better, and hunched over further for a closer inspection of his face. In sleep, everyone looked younger as all harsh lines went away and wrinkles soften. With Logan, it was now different. Of course, he wouldn’t have a baby face with the dark shadow of facial hair, but his mouth was perfectly kissable with the way his lips were parted. His eyelids flickered as she knew he was in the REM cycle of sleep from the way his eyeballs rolled. She doubted he would wake or have a nightmare now.

Unexpectedly, Logan shifted to get in a more comfortable position. He turned his face and buried it into the plump flesh of her stomach, huffing out a deeply drawn breath. His body turned with him until he was on his side, and he hugged one of her legs to him and curled himself around it. Now Darcy was in a somewhat awkward position as Logan had pinned her in place with his shoulder so dangerously high between her legs. His hands grasped the thick flesh of her thigh, fingers rhythmically squeezing and releasing as he kneaded it. Her knee was in his gut, but again he didn’t mind. Her foot brushed against his softened member, but if she wiggled her toes she felt it twitch in interest. She made a conscious effort to not wiggle her toes now. Her other leg moved to close the gap, again wanting to make that cocoon of warm around him. Darcy pressed that neglected leg against the length of his spine and her heal dipped below his rear. She’d really half to make sure her legs didn’t spasm or it would be a rude and painful awakening for him. Darcy could make this work for him, though, if he really wanted to sleep like this.

A small part of her became aroused, however, when Logan moved his head, scraping the facial hair on his cheek against her naked flesh. He had bent his head further down toward her thigh, and the very tip of his nose barely bumped against it before he went still once more. His lips subtly dragged against her enflamed skin, the softest and laziest of kisses as he pursed his lips in a small frown and bumped his mouth against her. Darcy had to muffle a whine at his unintentional teasing, but soon his actions ceased and he snored again. God, what she did for him out of love.

All the same, she was happy that he was comfortable even if she wasn’t. To her, Logan deserved a good night’s rest. She loved him and wish she could kiss away all of his pain. Maybe then he wouldn’t drink so much or he would sleep better, but she just wanted to help him anyway she could. If this was the way to ensure he slept like a baby, then so be it. Darcy would sacrifice him nearly anything for it, then.

Against her will, Darcy fell asleep just as the sun started to rise. When dawn had fully broken, Logan was beginning to rouse into wakefulness once more. The sunlight had not broken into his room as he kept his windows sealed tight against that. It became a necessity when Darcy started staying in his room at night to protect themselves from voyeurs. Still, Logan only woke because of his inner alarm clock. If the alarm had not been tampered with by Darcy last night, he would be waking up five minutes late.

The waking up process was a slow one for him as Logan had to take the time to process where he was. Logan knew he was asleep in his bed with Darcy, but was confused on how he had fallen asleep as he didn’t remember doing so between her thighs. It wouldn’t be the first time that he has, but he distinctly remembered that they finished the night off with her riding him to oblivion, not with his face between her legs. But since he had woken up this way, he wouldn’t be opposed if this was how they started their morning.

Glancing up at Darcy who sat rigidly against the headboard, asleep with her head tilted all the way over to one side, Logan admired her lovely face. Like him she did not age, or if she did it was slow. She had the youthful face of someone in just beginning their twenties, and in sleep it remained about the same. Her skin was brown with a healthy glow, her hair unkempt from last night’s activities, her flesh bare. He could see that her nipples were tightened buds from the cold, buds he wanted to take into his mouth, but couldn’t quite reach from this angle. What a shame. Without a thought, he smoothed his palms over the meaty flesh of her thighs, petting her softly to wake her. She did not rouse.

Not ready to give up yet, he rolled on his stomach between her luscious, generous thighs, digging his erection into the mattress. His eyes were still glued to her face, waiting expectantly for her to say something. He took a deep breath in and was nearly overwhelmed with the intermingling of their scents that came from the apex of her legs. It was a musky smell, and it managed to drag his attention away from her face to finally inspect her pussy.

She didn’t clean up from last night so he could see where his semen had dried like the remnants of glue, caked over her folds like frosting as it was liberally mixed with her own milky essence. The sight didn’t repulse him; in fact, he was proud. It was like a brand of ownership to have his fluids fill her up to the brim and overflow in such an artful way. Still, he couldn’t leave Darcy all dirty like that.

Using his arms, he carefully spread her legs open even wider to accommodate himself. Then he used his fingertips to gently peel open her pussy like opening the petals of the flower. Her petals were still slightly dewy from last night, and he sighed at the sight. It was beautiful to him in a way as he rested his cheek against one of her big thighs. His breath flowed over her intimate area, rustling the hair, and it sent a chill down Darcy’s spine that began her waking up process.

Patiently, Logan waited as Darcy stretched her arms and legs, popping her neck and her back. Her hands reached beside her head, flicking her hair out of the way as she grasped the headboard. She let loose a sleepy little moan, like someone who didn’t want to wake up. Finally, her amber-orange eyes opened and she immediately looked down to Logan, squinting slightly to see the details of his face.

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” Logan innocently inquired, the pads of his fingers rubbing circles into her flesh.

Darcy quickly glanced at the clock on the bedside table and saw that she had fallen asleep for less than fifteen minutes. She groaned lightly at that and then looked back to Logan, careful not to let any signs of her frustration or anger show on her face. “Well, not anymore I’m not. You want breakfast, Carcajou?”

“Oh, I plan on it, Cumcake.” Then Logan dragged his tongue down the seam of her lower lips, dipping his stiffened tongue into her entrance and finishing the move off with a slanted kiss across the lower lips.

Surprised but not opposed to what he was doing, Darcy dug her claws into the headboard and threw her head back until it slammed into the wall with a crack. She didn’t care, though, not when he was licking her clean and taking his time doing it. What a way to wake up in the morning.

Around lunch time, Logan dismissed his class early and went looking for Darcy. He was in an amorous mood and he figured she would be cooking as per usual. Cooking was one of her favorite hobbies after all.

Well, he didn’t find her in the kitchen, nor was she in the library, one of her favorite places to be. He popped his head in her classroom, but it was empty. When he visited his bedroom, she wasn’t there either. Logan even went so far as to climb three flights of stairs to see if she was in her bedroom that she used mainly for storage at this point. It, too, was empty and his Darcy was still missing. At a loss, he wandered through the mansion, idly.

There was no need for concern yet as he doubted that she left on a school day when she had a class at 1:00 p.m. which was less than thirty minutes away. Just to make sure, he checked the garage and her car was there but she wasn’t. While he was looking, he traversed down to the lower levels, but she wasn’t practicing in the Danger Room or working in the lab. Unsure of where she could be, he finally asked Hank in the laboratory if he had seen Darcy or knew where she was.

“Why, she’s probably outside of course, taking her catnap. It’s such a pretty day after all,” Hank informed him and then went back to making his mathematical conversions for his new experiment.

Logan was slightly surprised, but didn’t bother to ask Hank to explain his reasoning. So, he went upstairs and outside, going to the patio area where his designated smoking area was. Perhaps she was smoking one the Cuban cigars she stole from him. She wasn’t there. He went further out into the garden, but still didn’t see her yet. Logan was hesitant to enter the hedge maze yet, though, so he took a detour to the lake. Maybe she decided for one last swim before it got too cold for that. The Professor had already closed up the pool again when school started anyway.

Luckily for Logan, that was where he found her. Darcy was under a weeping willow whose branches barely hovered over the water’s edge. As the months progressed and when the weather got colder, it would die, and the shroud of privacy it provided would be gone. For now, though, there were still some leaves clinging to life, so Darcy was nearly hidden.

“Darcy,” Logan called out to her as he approached. Nimbly he slipped underneath the tree beside her, carefully moving her book and what remained of her lunch out of the way so he could sit with her. “Darcy, why are you all the way out here?”

But she didn’t answer. Darcy was dead asleep, her picnic blanket wrapped around her so that she looked like a burrito. She was dead to the world, completely oblivious to her surroundings as she slept and dreamed.

Mesmerized by the sight, Logan leaned against the tree next to her and put his hand on her lap. He let her sleep as he gazed out over the lake, lost in thought in how he deserved such a wonderful woman.

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