by Shara Lanel
As she lay there, she thought about her dream man and a tranquil feeling came over her. Warmth spread up her thighs and settled between her legs. She could remember every touch of his fingers, every flick of his tongue along her flesh, and the need intensified.
Bending one knee, she let her skirt ride up to her hip and trailed her fingers up the inside of her thigh. The cool air of the room hit her flesh, making goose bumps rise. If only her dream lover were here. If only he were real and could actually appease this ache that consumed her.
Her palm pressed against her damp panties and she moaned softly, wishing it was his palm that cupped her. Wishing his body could cover her, warm her, satisfy her.
Take them off, Drake’s voice whispered in her mind.
Was it her imagination? Was it the alcohol fogging her brain, making her believe she could hear him? She wasn’t sure she cared. Her flesh hungered for his touch, his kiss. She was so turned on, so hot.
She really had drunk too much if she was actually about to consider doing this, masturbating on the billiard table of all places. She had to do something. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so horny. All she could think about were his hands, his gentle lips, his thick cock, pounding, thrusting, filling her to the thin threshold of pain.
Lifting her hips, she slid her underwear off and dropped them on the floor. The cool air of the room hit her wet pussy as she spread her legs wide. Her skirt settled around her hips as she bent her knees, opening herself up even more.
Drake stood back slightly, the rise and fall of his chest quick and shallow. She looked beautiful all spread out before him like a feast. He wanted to devour her, fuck her with his tongue.
Her long, slim fingers glided up her thighs and came to rest against her pussy. Her wet nether lips glistened from her juices, and he ached to lick it away and to feel more flow against his mouth. Stepping closer, he breathed in her scent of jasmine and sex. So powerful, so perfect. Running his tongue along his bottom lip, he could imagine her taste and his cock turned to steel.
Placing a hand over the bulge in his breeches, he watched as she circled her clit with the ball of her middle finger. Her juices flowed, coating her hand and dripping between the cheeks of her ass.
Ever so slowly she worked herself. Her hips bucked and moved with her hand, the muscles of her thighs quivered. With a moan, she slipped two fingers deep within her pussy, slowly fucking herself.
Bloody hell! He didn’t know how much more he could take.
Growling, he undid his breeches’ opening and clamped his hand on his shaft, moving his palm up and down the hard length. He wanted to take her, deep and hard. Long and slow. He didn’t care how, he just wanted her.
He moved to stand between her legs, his hand still working his cock. She had pulled her fingers out and was now back to her clit, her moans becoming louder with each gentle swipe of her hand. Taking physical form, he leaned down and swiped his tongue along her slit, making her gasp.
Pure ambrosia.
Again, he dipped his tongue, this time going deeper within her dripping channel. She groaned and bucked her hips.
“Drake?” she moaned.
He glanced at her face. Her eyes were still closed, her face flushed in passion. Not wanting her to see him and become frightened, he faded back out and continued to watch. A moment ago, she’d heard him speak to her so he tried it again, softly at first.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered from his position above her. His hand kept squeezing his shaft, trying to ease some of the pressure, the pain. “I want to fuck you, Jordan.” She mumbled an unintelligible reply, and he continued. “I want to take my cock and bury it inside you, deep inside, to see you take all of it, baby. Every last inch.”
Two of her fingers plunged within her pussy, and he smiled. “That’s it, baby. All of it.” He could imagine the tight walls of her pussy squeezing him, milking him of his seed. “You feel so good, so wet and hot. So tight.”
“Drake,” she sighed.
“How does it feel? Does it feel good?”
“Yes. Oh, yes. Your cock feels so good.”
Drake closed his eyes against his desire. Damn, he wanted to fuck her. “I want to fuck you for real, Jordan,” he groaned. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
“I want you to fuck me. Hard, Drake. Deep and hard.”
Damn it.
His hand pumped harder, faster. His gaze remained glued to her hand and fingers, her dripping pussy. He wanted to keep them together, let them come at the same time. Her hips undulated, bucked, simulating sex, and it was all he could do to keep from plunging into her tight, heavenly depths. But she was drunk. Rake that he was, he wasn’t that much of a cad. He would settle for this. Settle for spurting his seed on her stomach as she climaxed.
His breath caught in his chest as he felt himself getting closer. His balls tightened painfully. He watched her fuck herself with her fingers, watched her chest rise and fall with her heavy breathing. The inner muscles of her thighs began to quiver, and he knew she was close. “That’s it, baby. Come with me.”
With a loud shout, she arched her back, her fingers plunging over and over. Her hips rose to meet each thrust just like she would if he was buried within her depths. He closed his eyes, imagined the feel of her walls spasming around his hard shaft, milking him.
“Fuck,” he shouted, and pumped harder, letting his orgasm race through him. Semen jetted out, coating his hand.
With a ragged sigh, he stared at her. Her eyes were closed, a blissful smile on her lips. He softly touched her cheek with his hand. She didn’t move or respond in any way. With a half grin, he realized she’d passed out.
Looking around, he found some napkins to clean her up with, then carried her upstairs to bed. In the morning he was sure she’d wonder how she got there. Maybe one day he’d tell her, he thought with a grin, then laid her on the bed. As gently as possible so as not to wake her, he removed her clothes and dropped them on the floor. Her alabaster skin was still flushed, her nipples still hard and distended.
Bloody hell. Even unconscious the woman made him hard.
With a sigh, he covered her with the sheet and blankets. He needed to get the hell out of here before he took advantage of her. Again.
Before leaving the room, he bent down and sucked hard on the side of her neck where she would be sure to notice. It was time he’d made his presence known.
* * * *
“Good morning, sleepy head.”
Nina’s voice penetrated Jordan’s alcohol fogged brain. She eased her eyes open, then winced as blinding light coming in through the French doors intensified the pounding in her head. Nausea roiled her stomach, and she licked her dry lips, the aftertaste of liquor heavy in her mouth. She had no doubt that if she tried to climb out of this bed, she’d pass out.
“Come on. We have a tower to explore today.”
Jordan scowled at her chipper friend. How could someone as drunk as Nina was wake up so cheerful?
“Fuck you and your cheerfulness,” Jordan grumbled and rolled to her other side, putting her back to Nina.
Nina chuckled. “It’s almost two and Kimberly has the most incredible stuff for a hangover. It tastes nasty going down, but once it settles you’ll be rid of that god-awful headache.”
Jordan opened one eye. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
Throwing the covers off, Jordan sat up, and then wished she hadn’t. Her stomach lurched violently, and she covered her mouth before making a mad dash for the bathroom. Dropping to her knees before the commode, she put her head in her hands and prayed for a quick death.
“Oh, honey,” Nina soothed as she held Jordan’s hair back. “I keep forgetting how bad your hangovers are.”
“Just put me out of my misery,” Jordan moaned into the toilet.
“Don’t be silly,” Nina chided with amusement and handed Jordan a cold, wet cloth. “Here, this will help.”
Jordan stood and placed the cool cloth a
gainst her face. It felt wonderful, and for one fleeting second, the headache disappeared—but then returned full force with a vengeance.
“Jordan?” Nina placed her fingers against Jordan’s neck. “Did you have another dream last night?”
Jordan frowned. Images of her masturbating on the billiard table floated through her mind, then something else, something just out of her reach. “I don’t remember.”
“Honey, I think you better look in the mirror.”
Something in Nina’s voice made her skin prickle in fear. With trepidation, Jordan spun around and glanced at her reflection. She inhaled sharply as a cold chill snaked through her. Gingerly, she touched her shaking fingers to the side of her neck. There in full view was a love bite—a big one.
Desperately, she tried to remember what happened the night before. Was there someone else there? She certainly hadn’t done this to herself.
“Something tells me your dream man isn’t a dream at all,” Nina whispered.
Holy crap! Had he been real all along?
Chapter Eight
“Rene!” Jordan yelled as she stomped down the stairs, Nina on her heels.
Every jarring step sent a sharp pain through her forehead, but she ignored it. She needed to find out what the hell was going on. “Rene, where are you, damn it?”
“I’m here, Miss Jordan.” He stepped from the dinning room into the foyer, his face drawn into a frown. “Is there a problem?”
“Who is he?” she demanded.
“Who is who, Miss Jordan?”
She stopped directly in front of him, her hands on her hips. What kind of joke had they been playing on her?
Brushing her hair aside, she pointed to her neck. “The man who did this. That’s who.”
“Oh, dear,” Kimberly said from beside her.
Jordan jumped and stared at Kimberly in surprise, a shiver of apprehension running up her spine.
“Where the hell did you come from?” Nina asked. Her voice quivered slightly and Jordan knew the same smattering of fear was beginning to take over Nina as well. Something wasn’t right here. She could feel it deep in her gut.
Kimberly stammered. The blush on her face deepened. “Well, I’ve … um … been right here, Miss Nina.”
Nina shook her head. “Okay, something weird is going on here.”
“I agree,” Jordan sighed. “I want some answers. Now.”
“And you deserve those answers.”
Jordan stiffened.
Surely not.
Turning, she stared in shock at the man standing just outside the parlor doorway. Drake. The man she’d been dreaming about. Her heart hammered in her chest, her fingers flexed, clenching and unclenching in a mix of panic, anger, and desire.
He looked so gorgeous with his dark hair a mass of unruly waves, his white shirt partially open, showing off a chest she’d memorized the feel of. His tan breeches clung to his thighs and molded to his perfectly-formed, firm hips. Even his knee-high boots looked sexy.
“Holy crap,” Nina sighed.
My thoughts exactly. “So you’re not a dream after all,” Jordan said.
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. Her heart raced in her chest, every beat a searing pain in her head. Nausea rolled in her stomach but she refused to move from the spot until she had some answers.
He grinned sheepishly, his cheeks actually showing a hint of a blush. “No. I’m not a dream.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m who I said I was. Drake Montgomery.”
Anger beat a hard rhythm through her chest, and her hands clenched at her side. “Who are you really, and why the hell did you do it?”
Drake sighed and moved toward her. “Let’s go to the kitchen and have some tea. We’ll talk there.”
Jordan narrowed her eyes in distrust. She’d spent the last several days giving herself to this man, and she had no idea who he was. Not really.
He came to a stop in front of her. She felt his heat, his thoroughly masculine presence affecting her like a drug. A drug she was quickly becoming addicted to. Her hands shook with the realization she’d slept with this man. Not just slept with, but fucked. She’d screamed his name, begged for more. He’d made her feel things she never dreamed she could feel with anyone. And she didn’t even know who he was.
“Please, Jordan,” he whispered.
There was something in his eyes. Pleading? Regret? She swallowed and nodded her head in agreement. Stepping aside, she allowed him to lead the way to the kitchen.
Nina grabbed her elbow, slowing her down. “Is this the guy you dreamed about?”
“Yes, but apparently they weren’t dreams. I’m dying to know how the hell he pulled this off.”
“You and me, both. But I want to know more than anything is why.”
Jordan nodded. “Me, too. Have you felt anything?”
Nina shook her head. Sometimes, her friend could pick up on things. Vibes of some sort that would tell her if there was any impending danger. “Apparently my powers have deserted me this time. We’ll just have to hear him out.”
Drake pushed the swinging kitchen door open and held it for the women to pass through. Rene and Kimberly following closely behind.
“I’ll fix some tea,” Kimberly mumbled, and headed toward the counter.
Drake pulled out a chair. “Have a seat.”
Jordan eyed him warily and took the chair he offered. Nina sat next to her, offering a small smile in support. Whatever he was about to tell her, at least she wouldn’t have to hear it alone. She was glad Nina was here.
Drake took the seat across from her. His sapphire gaze was questioning, uncertain.
“Well?” Jordan said.
“Well.” Drake repeated. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
“The beginning would be nice.”
His lips quirked slightly. “Okay. About four hundred years ago I was imprisoned…”
“Oh, please,” Jordan sighed. “The truth, damn it. Not some ridiculous story.”
His eyes met hers squarely, never wavering. Intense heat shot from their depths, scorching her very flesh. His eyes narrowed to slits, and Jordan shivered.
“Hold up your hand,” he commanded.
“What?” she asked surprised. What did he want her to hold up her hand for?
“Just do it.”
Pursing her lips, she thought about it for a second, then held her hand up, palm out. Without breaking his gaze from hers, their fingers touched. At first there was warmth, then suddenly it changed, becoming cold. She turned to watch in terror as his hand passed through hers. The cold traveled up her arm as he continued to wave his hand through the skin and bones of her hand. As he did so, his skin became transparent, blending with hers.
With a startled gasp, she jerked away. She rubbed at her fingers, trying to replace the warmth he’d just stolen from her flesh.
“What the hell did you just do?” Jordan yelled.
“Are you a ghost?” Nina asked.
Kimberly set teacups in front of each of them. Jordan cupped it with her cold palm, letting the warmth from the fluid seep into her skin, but she didn’t dare lift it from the table. Her hands trembled too badly.
“No, Nina. I’m not a ghost. Not exactly.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m trapped.”
“Why? How?” Nina asked.
Jordan glanced at her. Nina’s eyes were shining with excitement, her body leaned forward in interest. The Wiccan in Nina would certainly understand this better than she would, that was for certain.
“At one time, I was a rake—a scoundrel,” he began.
“Can’t imagine that,” Jordan replied dryly.
“Jordan,” Nina admonished. “Hear him out.”
“I can’t believe you’re suddenly on his side. The man seduced me. Led me to believe I was dreaming.”
Nina leaned close and whispered. “Need I remind you, you enjoyed those dreams?”
“Tha
t’s not the point!” Jordan snapped.
“Just hear me out, Jordan. Let me explain what happened. Then maybe you’ll understand why I did what I did.”
She glanced around at the faces staring at her expectantly, Kimberly and Rene in particular. “Did the two of you know about this?”
Kimberly looked to the floor, her head bowed in shame. “Yes, Miss Jordan.”
A sudden thought occurred to her, and she felt sick at her stomach. “You said my grandfather dreamed of him.” She turned her attention to Drake. “Did you have sex with my grandfather?”
“No!” Drake replied, with a firm shake of his head.
Kimberly stepped forward, her hands clasping her apron. “I’m sorry, Miss Jordan. I just told you that so you wouldn’t think your dreams were quite so odd. His lordship just appeared to your grandfather.”
“And he accepted you?”
“After a little convincing.”
“All right. So you’re the original Viscount Blackthorn. How did you end up trapped?” She had to admit, even her curiosity was now piqued.
“As I said, although I am ashamed to admit it, I was a womanizer. I seduced a young woman and, for a while, we had an affair. I told her in the beginning that an affair was all it would be, but she fell in love with me, anyway. When I didn’t return those feelings, she cast a spell, entrapping me within the castle walls indefinitely.”
Jordan frowned. “So you’re here forever?”
“More or less.”
“What about them?” Nina asked, pointing to Rene and Kimberly.
“They entered my chamber at the same time she spoke the spell, trapping them as well.”
“So this woman was a witch,” Nina replied, her fingers tapping her chin.
Jordan knew that look. An idea was hatching.
“What are you thinking?”
“That maybe, if you can remember the exact words of the spell, I may be able to invoke a counter-spell.”