Page 20 of Dormeo
Without realising I've moved, I’m at her bedside, my fingers sliding through her tousled blonde strands as she lies there, unaware of my presence.
She whimpers, writhing under my gaze, and that breathy little moan, one that speaks of desire and frustration, is my undoing.
Leaning closer, I trail a dark finger along her collarbone, humming in satisfaction at the silky smoothness of her skin.
She's soft where I'm hard, pale and pure, where I'm dark and damaged.
I want to know what her innocence would taste like on my tongue, to be the one to ruin her for all others.
These possessive thoughts should concern me, and pull me back from the brink, but against all my common sense, Instead, I ignore them. I close my eyes, my heart pounding in my chest, and focus on easing myself into her thoughts without waking her.
While I’ve done this before, it was as a means to an end, a way of restoring my power, when all other avenues were exhausted.
I’ve never felt so personally invested in what I discovered when I entered someone’s mind. If she's dreaming of another man, a lover from the human realm, I can't promise I won't hunt him down and rip his limbs from his body, one by one.
Both in her dreams and reality.
I know this is going to end badly, but I couldn’t stop now, even if I wanted to.
I tell myself that I’m helping her, giving her an outlet for the desire growing inside her each day she remains here. Thisshould take the edge off for both of us, because the alternative is me giving in to my very real desire for her and taking her during her waking hours.
This will ease my curiosity and sate her hunger, for a while, at least.
My little Rose needs to be taken care of. And while I can’t take her flower while she’s under my watch, I can perhaps strip her of a petal or two.
I relax and slip into her dreams quietly without disturbing her. Instantly, I’m struck by the force of her need. It’s raw, all-consuming, but more powerful than that, and I feel her impatience at the climax that remains disappointingly out of reach.
“Shh, Rose. Show me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
With a wicked smile, I delve deeper into her mind, trying to see what her subconscious has conjured up for her to enjoy. She’s here, in my quarters, but not in my bed. I struggle to follow her chain of thought, the images fracturing and rejoining before I can get a grip on what she’s seeing. And feeling.
No wonder she can’t come. There’s no consistency, no rhythm.
My sofa. Rose naked. Her hand between her thighs. She’s turned on, eager and wanting more. The picture of her on my actual sofa is hard to shake.
But then the image fractures, and suddenly, I'm watching her from above, her lips parted, her eyes wide open as she gasps for breath, fingers clawing at the black leather of the cushions beneath her.
“Yes, yes,” she chants,and I growl, enjoying how eagerly she rocks her hips forward against her hand, wanting more and more. I wait with bated breath for her to fall apart before my eyes. But instead, her release slips from her grasp again,and she cries out in anger, unable to maintain the fantasy in her head.
“Ash.” She moans in frustration, digging her hands into her hair and tugging hard, her back arching up off the couch, and her knees drawing up.
My chest swells, and something dangerous unfurls inside me as she calls my name. My little Rose is already using me to fuel her dreams before I've even had the chance to interfere.
I knew she liked what she saw.
A new feeling, far more unsettling than pride, blossoms inside me, and instead of being concerned, I let it consume me, welcoming it. My tail curls up, wrapping itself around her thigh, parting her legs on the bed, so her small hand can find her clit and stroke it in real life.
In her dreams, I settle myself over her on the couch and run my thumb over her bottom lip.
“I’m here,” I whisper, and she stills, sighing contentedly, all her agitated movement calmed by that tiny touch.
She waits to see what I'll do next, intoxicatingly compliant and submissive after just one featherlight caress.
When I press our lips together, tasting her, letting our breaths mingle so I can breathe in her very essence, she sighs, and her entire body relaxes.
Rose lazily stretches her arms up over her head and spreads her body out for me, completely at my mercy, presenting herself and allowing me to do whatever I want.
In reality, her hand reaches out, and her fingers stroke my thigh, dangerously close to my rock-hard erection. My tail slips between her damp thighs as I grip the edge of the bed, restraining the urges that burn within me. I could plunge its tip deep within her, but I'll have to settle for penetrating her mind.
