Page 19 of Dormeo
It seems uncharacteristically generous of my father to leave such a valuable asset in my possession. He must know the potential she possesses, and the power that pulses through her veins. Or he would, if he’d met her, but her constant state of unconsciousness may have prevented him from realising how strong she is.
Even now, she’s already slipped into sleep. The potion that her father gave her leaves her unable to stay awake for more than brief periods of time.
A demon like me could spend all day playing with her mind, growing more and more powerful as dreams feed me. And I’denjoy every minute of it, too. With her pale blonde hair and gentle curves, she’s exactly the kind of woman a demon could lose himself in.
And my father knows that.
The question is whether he's really just too busy to concern himself with keeping her alive, or is he up to something I won’t approve of and wants to keep me distracted.
Or more likely, maybe he’s hoping I’ll indulge myself, and then he can rub my failure in my face when we hand her back to her father as a vastly different woman than when she arrived.
Whatever he’s up to, it really is a genius plan.
Even now, the tiny shred of concern I had about using my powers to tamper with her dreams is fading. I am a demon. It's not in my nature to do the right thing when a golden opportunity such as this presents itself.
Especially when the subject of my dream-walking seems so eager for satisfaction anyway. She won’t be harmed, after all. I’d wager she’ll be more than open to my subliminal suggestions.
Drawing in another deep breath, I curse.
Her innocence perfumes the air, made all the more alluring by the near constant state of arousal she’s in.
Really, I'd be putting her out of her misery.
And when my imagination strays into conjuring up exactly what scene I might play out to give her the greatest release, and me, the largest boost of power, I know that I’m done for.
It’s a case of when and not if.
She need never know. I have the experience to create any visage I want when I infiltrate her dreams. The person who delivers her orgasms doesn't even have to be me. I could generate a tall, handsome prince, with charm and wealth, probably exactly who she thinks she wants.
And yet, I don't want to.
Twisted though it might be, I want her to be uncertain tomorrow. I want to see her when she knows that she came from my touch, on my hands, on my tongue, around my cock, even if it’s all just a dream.
I saw the way her hungry eyes roamed over my body. The idea of a noble woman like her finding a creature like me desirable is absurd. She should be repulsed, yetshetouchedme.
I saw her pupils dilate and heard her breathing pick up.
She liked it. She desires me. She may be innocent and destined for a life far from here, but I want to give her more, to let her play with her desires, to venture into the unknown, before reality sets back in and steals her back to her mundane existence.
I come to a halt facing her bedroom. There’s only one way to find out if she’s as powerful as I predict. I need to know what I’m dealing with, so I can figure out my father’s plans for her.
It’s research, that’s all. Research that we’ll both get something out of. I’m not hurting her.
Unease settles over me as I stride over to the heavy wooden door and push it open. Not because of the morals of what I’m about to do, but because I already know how much I’m going to enjoy it.
In the gloom, I see her blankets tossed aside as if she’s burning up. Her nightdress has risen up her thighs, exposing pale, toned legs. I grip the doorway as primal lust takes hold within me.
Just her dreams Ash, nothing more.
As I step inside, the scent of her arousal strengthens, and I close my eyes, knowing she’s growing wetter, even in sleep. Even without me meddling, she’s dreaming sexy dreams.
Her thighs press together, sliding back and forth, seeking friction where there is none.
They demand to be parted.
Nothing should hide her from me. Not when she's dripping her desire ontomybedsheets.
A dark compulsion to know what turns her on has me in its thrall. Will she be shy and submissive, or wild and free?
