He did. He loved every second of it, every drawn out second that she had her mouth trailing hot affection against his long neck and strong jaw. It was very difficult to comprehend such a thing so clearly and even more difficult to link the lust he felt to something more pure like an underlying love felt for Stephanie.
He knew it was there, deep down, but mostly he wanted to focus on the surface things. He wanted to touch, taste, smell, hear everything about her he could before he woke up from this dream. Because that was what this had to be: a dream. In real life, Stephanie Fawcett didn't buck her hips like that. In real life, Stephanie did not purr or moan when he let his long hands explore the soft flesh of her torso under that shirt.
"Mmhmm?" he was starting to peel that shirt off as she said his name. Stephen had to pull back, the move making his head swim as he collapsed back against the couch to gaze up at her under half lidded eyes.