The wind howled outside my window, sending a chill through the bedroom. It had been a rainy week. I fought the cold for as long as I could, but the flu finally won. For three days, I’d been a shivering wreck, buried under the duvet, my head throbbing and my throat feeling like I’d swallowed shards of glass.
I felt sorry for myself. My nose was raw, and every muscle in my body ached. This continued till the weekend.
I was drifting in a feverish haze, half-awake and half-dreaming when I heard a key turn and the front door open. It couldn’t be anyone else but Dayo.
He pushed open the bedroom door, bringing with him a food basket, a rush of cold air, and the scent of rain. His eyes softening the moment they landed on my flushed, sweaty face.
“You look like hell, Eve,” he murmured.
“Feel like it too,” I croaked, my voice barely a whisper.
He didn’t say another word. He walked over to the bed and pressed the back of his large, warm hand against my forehead. The contrast was electric. I leaned into his touch instinctively, craving that heat.
“You’re burning up,” he noted, though his gaze had shifted. He wasn’t looking at my fevered eyes anymore; he was looking at the way my thin silk nightgown had ridden up my thighs, leaving me exposed and trembling.
“I’m freezing, Dayo. Please,” I whimpered, not even sure what I was asking for.
He didn’t reach for the medicine. Instead, he began to strip. He shed his sweater, and his shirt in quick, efficient motions, revealing muscular chest and shoulders. When he kicked off his trousers and underwear, his cock sprang free: thick, heavy, and already pulsing with a hunger that matched the fire in my blood.
He slid under the duvet with me. I gasped as his bare skin hit mine. It was like being pressed against a heater. I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and rubbing my chilled legs against his powerful thighs.
“I’m going to sweat this fever right out of you,” he whispered against my ear, his breath hot.
His mouth found mine in a kiss that wasn’t gentle; it was a claim. He tasted of peppermint and desire, his tongue sliding deep into my mouth, mirroring the way he wanted to be inside me. His hands, rough and warm, wandered over my body, squeezing my breasts through the silk, his thumbs flicking my nipples until they were hard peaks.
I arched my back, a moan escaping my throat that sounded more like a plea. I wanted him. I wanted the friction, the heat, the sheer force of him to override the sickness in my veins.
Dayo didn’t make me wait. He gripped my hips and yanked the nightgown up over my head, tossing it aside. He spread my legs wide, his eyes darkening as he looked at my pussy, already swollen and aching for him. He leaned down, his tongue lashing out to lick my clit in long, slow strokes. I screamed into the pillow, my toes curling as the intense pleasure surged through me, momentarily erasing the ache in my joints.
He didn’t stop until I was sobbing, my hips bucking wildly against his face. Then, he shifted, positioning himself between my legs. He guided his thick cock to my entrance, rubbing the head against my wet folds for a torturous second before slamming home.
“Fuck, you’re so warm,” he groaned, his voice a guttural growl.
The sensation was overwhelming. He filled me completely, stretching me open, his heat radiating deep into my core. Every thrust was a shock to my system, a violent, passionate rhythm that forced the air from my lungs. I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking him in, pulling him deeper with every shove.
He fucked me with a primal intensity, his chest slapping against my breasts, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the quiet room. I could feel the sweat breaking out on my skin—not the cold, clammy sweat of the flu, but a hot, erotic perspiration that bonded us together.
“You’re so sweet, Eve,” he gasped, his pace quickening. “So fucking hot.”
I clung to his shoulders, my nails digging into his muscles as the tension built. The world narrowed down to the point where he joined me, the friction of his cock sliding in and out of my soaking pussy. I felt the familiar wave of heat build in my belly, a pressure that exploded into a crashing orgasm that shook my entire frame.
As I came, Dayo let out a loud, triumphant shout, his body stiffening as he pumped load after load of hot cum deep inside me. I felt the warmth of his seed filling me, a final, searing heat that seemed to burn away the last remnants of the virus.
He collapsed on top of me, his heavy weight grounding me, our hearts beating in a synchronised, frantic rhythm. We stayed like that for a long time, tangled in the sheets, drenched in sweat.
As the adrenaline faded, I realised the fog in my head had cleared. The chill was gone, replaced by a glowing, humming warmth that radiated from my centre to my fingertips. I looked up at Dayo, who was kissing my forehead with a tender smile.
He asked: “Feel better?”
I smiled back, feeling stronger, lighter, and completely satisfied. “Much better.” I felt so good, I was able to eat the food and fruits he brought me.
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