surface and sighed. If
this was a dream, playing it up won’t hurt, fantasizing with no
fear of rejection.
Joy sat sideways and crossed her legs. She gazed out into
nothing but blackness, drawn to the burning tapered candles
scattered throughout illuminating the bed in a gauzy,
hallucination-induced mist.
At the faint rustle of movement she turned. Her dream lover
stalked toward her.
She stood as he approached. In all the times she’d visited,
this was a new scene playing out. Was it his? Why couldn’t she
remember?
The man stopped a couple feet from her, his dark silvery eyes
ablaze. She swallowed. This was just a vision, a dream. Like the
others. She could be herself completely with him without the fear
of reprisal. He wouldn’t think badly of her or expect anything she
couldn’t give.
Joy took that first step, she always did. This was her choice.
Raising her hand to his lips, she caressed them and then ran her
fingertips down to his defined pectoral muscles. For being a part
of her imagination, she drew him perfectly.
She leaned toward him, trailing her fingers to the waistband
of his un-buttoned jeans. She gripped the material and tugged him
closer. Not understanding why she saw him this way.
The soft worn denim stretched taunt across his thighs and
cupped his firm ass. His feet were bare like his chest. He had the
appearance of stepping from the shower with his damp, shaggy-cut
black hair.
Had he been bathing or swimming?
She’d created him and should know what he’d been doing. Yet,
she wondered which.
Inhaling his fresh scent deeply, her nipples brushed his ribs
and her pulse raced at the contact. Her stomach muscles convulsed
at his nearness and her pussy clenched in anticipation.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Normally she didn’t have this problem when she encountered him
in dreamscape. What made this time so different?
She shoved those concerns out of her mind. This was the man
she searched for and couldn’t find; her moments with him limited.
She was in love with a fashioned character.
Here Joy could have him and be fulfilled. Be whole.
She reached his mouth without a struggle with the added height
of the heels. She wasn’t tall and he towered over her by almost a
foot.
Maybe that’s why they are on my feet?
Part of her wanted to draw this out while the other desired to
take and revel in the ecstasy found when their bodies united. She
knew she drove him crazy with desire, teasing him. Once he had
enough, she’d find him right where she needed him. Between her
thighs thrusting hard, claiming her in the way only he
could.
He’d let her hold the reins, he always did. Those moments Joy
didn’t want to start things. They were the times she wished for him
to take her and give back what she required to live. He knew her
desires.
She took his mouth with hers and thrust her tongue in to spar
with his.
The first contact made her head spin, the lightheadedness
always the same. It stole her breath every time and her heart
slammed against her ribs. Joy gripped his forearms to keep from
melting to the floor as wet heat pooled between her
thighs.
It always happened when he touched her. After their mouths
linked, when her response flooded her insides, she had to steady
herself. His hands would grip her hips, not to bring her closer or
push her away, more to keep her from falling over.
Deepening the kiss, his fingers dug into her flesh. Joy
pressed toward him. Heat seeped into her body and she bit back a
moan of pleasure. Her breasts flattened against the wall of firm
muscle. She wanted to get closer…needed to be closer.
She looped an arm around his neck and pulled him to her. The
touch of him fueled the explosive passion right under the
surface.
Her mind and body knew he held himself on a leash. She didn’t
comprehend where the insight came from but welcomed it. He wouldn’t
harm or try to control her.
As if he’d recognize her submission, until then he let her
dominate the situation.
this was a dream, playing it up won’t hurt, fantasizing with no
fear of rejection.
Joy sat sideways and crossed her legs. She gazed out into
nothing but blackness, drawn to the burning tapered candles
scattered throughout illuminating the bed in a gauzy,
hallucination-induced mist.
At the faint rustle of movement she turned. Her dream lover
stalked toward her.
She stood as he approached. In all the times she’d visited,
this was a new scene playing out. Was it his? Why couldn’t she
remember?
The man stopped a couple feet from her, his dark silvery eyes
ablaze. She swallowed. This was just a vision, a dream. Like the
others. She could be herself completely with him without the fear
of reprisal. He wouldn’t think badly of her or expect anything she
couldn’t give.
Joy took that first step, she always did. This was her choice.
Raising her hand to his lips, she caressed them and then ran her
fingertips down to his defined pectoral muscles. For being a part
of her imagination, she drew him perfectly.
She leaned toward him, trailing her fingers to the waistband
of his un-buttoned jeans. She gripped the material and tugged him
closer. Not understanding why she saw him this way.
The soft worn denim stretched taunt across his thighs and
cupped his firm ass. His feet were bare like his chest. He had the
appearance of stepping from the shower with his damp, shaggy-cut
black hair.
Had he been bathing or swimming?
She’d created him and should know what he’d been doing. Yet,
she wondered which.
Inhaling his fresh scent deeply, her nipples brushed his ribs
and her pulse raced at the contact. Her stomach muscles convulsed
at his nearness and her pussy clenched in anticipation.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Normally she didn’t have this problem when she encountered him
in dreamscape. What made this time so different?
She shoved those concerns out of her mind. This was the man
she searched for and couldn’t find; her moments with him limited.
She was in love with a fashioned character.
Here Joy could have him and be fulfilled. Be whole.
She reached his mouth without a struggle with the added height
of the heels. She wasn’t tall and he towered over her by almost a
foot.
Maybe that’s why they are on my feet?
Part of her wanted to draw this out while the other desired to
take and revel in the ecstasy found when their bodies united. She
knew she drove him crazy with desire, teasing him. Once he had
enough, she’d find him right where she needed him. Between her
thighs thrusting hard, claiming her in the way only he
could.
He’d let her hold the reins, he always did. Those moments Joy
didn’t want to start things. They were the times she wished for him
to take her and give back what she required to live. He knew her
desires.
She took his mouth with hers and thrust her tongue in to spar
with his.
The first contact made her head spin, the lightheadedness
always the same. It stole her breath every time and her heart
slammed against her ribs. Joy gripped his forearms to keep from
melting to the floor as wet heat pooled between her
thighs.
It always happened when he touched her. After their mouths
linked, when her response flooded her insides, she had to steady
herself. His hands would grip her hips, not to bring her closer or
push her away, more to keep her from falling over.
Deepening the kiss, his fingers dug into her flesh. Joy
pressed toward him. Heat seeped into her body and she bit back a
moan of pleasure. Her breasts flattened against the wall of firm
muscle. She wanted to get closer…needed to be closer.
She looped an arm around his neck and pulled him to her. The
touch of him fueled the explosive passion right under the
surface.
Her mind and body knew he held himself on a leash. She didn’t
comprehend where the insight came from but welcomed it. He wouldn’t
harm or try to control her.
As if he’d recognize her submission, until then he let her
dominate the situation.
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