Page 212 of Hunters and Prey

Black Dreams

BLACK DIDN’T DREAM.

Well… not that he knew of.

And by dream, he meant the sort of subconscious wanderings and mental hodgepodge of associative images, emotions, thoughts, mental processings, mundane anxieties and external stressors that were common of human dreams.

Like all seers, he had the occasional Barrier jumps in his sleep.

He’d had flashbacks while he slept, too… trauma-related things, war-related things, vampire-related things… but he didn’t really count those as dreams, either. Those were more like Barrier jumps too, if of a different type.

He’d even had Barrier sex a number of times in his sleep.

That had mostly been with humans.

Of course, most of his life, Black had lived on a version of Earth with few seers. For a long time, he hadn’t known any other seers at all lived on his world.

He’d thought he was alone.

Black didn’t expect to dream on this night, either.

Truthfully, he doubted he would even sleep.

He knew he was exhausted. If he hadn’t known he was exhausted before, the point was hammered home when he’d been too tired to act on his wife pulling on his cock with her light, running her hands over him, half-teasing him to pull on her back.

She’d been restrained about it, of course.

She’d been… polite.

More polite than he would have been, if he’d had even half as much energy as she seemed to have––if he’d been half as worried, half as stressed out.

Even so, just the fact of that restraint, of feeling that restraint, of feeling that semi-curious, semi-joking, semi-serious, semi-questioning pull on her light was enough to get him hard as a fucking rock, and half-sick with separation pain, even with him feeling light-depleted and hallucinating from needing sleep.

It was enough to make him want to say the hell with it, try and fuck her anyway, even if he was half-conscious through most of it… even if he had to coax her into doing all of the physical work of the sex act itself.

He’d wanted to before.

He’d wanted to even more after she reappeared with that creepy fucking bite on her arm, pulling on him for contact, for sex, for affection.

Then Luric said she had a concussion and physical exertion was out.

He told himself they would do it tonight… tomorrow at the latest.

He told himself maybe it would even keep her here.

Maybe his not fucking her was part of the problem.

Maybe they needed to fuck until both of them were so wrapped in each other’s light, she couldn’t go anywhere, not without him. Maybe the whole thing was his fault for not taking care of her in that regard for what felt like weeks now.

Maybe it was his fault for not being over the Nick thing. Maybe it was his fault for struggling with the Nick thing even more than she seemed to be.

He would do it.

He definitely wanted to fucking do it.

He pictured her mouth on him, like she’d been teasing him with for days, and pain rippled through his light, making him even harder.

His mind turned that into intercourse, into the two of them being tied together with the canvas straps with him gripping her hips, holding her under him, while––

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