A Dream

Mara

I can’t fall asleep for hours.

I keep tossing, turning, pushing the sheets off my legs, then yanking them back up when the night air hits my skin. I’m too sensitive to put on clothes and I lie naked beneath the sheets.

My body is still warm from a kind of heat that comes from the inside, burrowed into muscle and blood, humming.

I blame the wine. I blame the book. I blame him.

Kaelith with his sharp face and blood-red eyes. His body sketched on pages does more for me than a real, live man has ever done.

Eventually, I must fall asleep, because I dream. Fuck, I dream.

My room is so dark, like smoke is curling around me. My skin buzzes, hypersensitive to every movement. Every inch of me is alert and waiting.

I toss and turn, my eyes shut so tight that the edge of a headache plays with my senses.

The bed creaks, and I still. Eyes like blood, glowing in the dark, appear in front of me. Not evil. Not cruel. But bottomless.

They pin me in place. I struggle for breath, my thighs pressed together. I am soaked. Aching. I reach out, and he leans into my hand, the hard planes of his muscular chest tightening beneath my fingers.

“You called for me, my light.” His voice is rough, deep enough to vibrate in my chest and coil low in my stomach.

It makes my muscles weak. Makes my breath stutter. It’s the kind of voice that belongs to nightmares, meant to be obeyed, worshipped, feared. I clench around nothing, aching with the want of him.

Oh fuck, this dream is perfect.

“Kaelith,” I whisper.

His blood-red eyes flash in return, and he grips the sheets like they offend him. He throws them off my body, making me gasp at the sudden flash of cold air.

A low growl emits from his chest. Rough hands grip my hips like I’m something precious, and he pulls me closer to him.

“You are much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. So soft.”

His mouth trails over my collarbone, my breasts, and the hard peaks of my nipples. I am delirious beneath him, my blood boiling. He trails down kisses to the swell of my stomach.

“My light.” His lips murmur words, and I feel them down to my bones. The foreign language of his voice curls into my ear and sets me on fire.

My legs wrap around his waist. My fingers tangle in his hair.

His mouth drops down to my thigh and I jerk my hips, seeking that pleasure, seeking that release. I can see nothing else, think of nothing else as he breathes across my skin.

I barely have time to catch my breath before I feel him inhale. Deep and low, a guttural drag of air through his nose like a predator savoring the scent of its prey.

It isn’t human. It is animalistic. A sound so primal it vibrates through me, straight to my core.

His face hovers near my pussy, his breath hot and wild, and he growls. It rumbles in his chest and sends a bolt of heat straight between my legs.

His fingers dig into my hips, it fucking hurts. It is possessive. Starved. Like he is barely holding himself back.

And fuck, I love it. Every feral second of it. The sound, the grip, and then the way he drags his nose between my pussy lips.

It ignites something in me, wild and burning. I arch into him, offering more, needing more.

“So sweet,” he mutters.

One sweep of his tongue. That’s all it takes. From my asshole to my clit. I come with a scream that burns my throat. I tremble, locking his head between my thighs.

He continues to lap at my wetness even as I struggle to get away from his touch. It is a devastating sort of pleasure. My mind shatters, and I writhe against his hold.

He finally loosens his hold on me, sucking the last of my wetness into his mouth. He trails kisses up my body, and I can barely keep my eyes open.

“You’re such a good dream,” I murmur.

He chuckles against my neck, peppering kisses there. “There, my light, you can sleep now.”

Sleep wants to drag me under, but regardless of the tiredness taking over my mind, I am still wound tight. I reach for him as he lies beside me, gripping onto his neck.

“I need more,” I grunt like a deranged woman.

He finds my lips with his, and he presses the weight of his body over mine. His hand trails down my ribs, down my stomach, and he buries it between my legs. The rough pads of his fingers slowly circle my clit. A sigh leaves my lips.

“Sleep, as I take care of you.”

My eyes close on their own.

“I know your need for The Vowed is great, and I will keep you satisfied until we cross the realm. Until we all get a taste of you.”

That is the last thing I hear.

What a perfect dream.

I wake up feeling better. I sit up slowly, the corner of my mouth tugging into a lazy smile I can’t seem to fight.

My thighs are slick. My whole body, fulfilled. It’s true what they say that women can orgasm in their dreams. I think I dis last night, multiple times.

I blink, trying to shake it off, but the images of my dream are still there, his eyes, his hands, his mouth. The way his fingers and tongue move inside me.

I should be disturbed. Or at least confused.

But I just sit there, warm, humming, utterly sated.

With a soft sigh, I stand, wrapping my robe around me. I pad to the kitchen, still half dreaming, still glowing. As I reach for the coffee beans, my gaze drifts toward the window.

Kaelith is sitting in my armchair, his blood-red eyes locked on me. He’s bare chested, still only wearing a pair of leather pants.

I smile at him, warmth blooming in my belly. “Good morning.”

He nods once.

I turn back to the counter, then freeze. My eyes go wide. My pulse thunders in my ears. I snap back toward him, breath shallow, mouth parting in silent horror.

He’s here. Kaelith is here.

He just watches me, silent and still, like a shadow, and stands making his way toward me. He moves fast and is so tall I have to crane my neck to look at him.

I don’t think. I just move. My fingers close around a kitchen knife, my hand lifting it, blade pointed at his chest.