Dream Warriors 2: Ryder

by Cyndi Friberg

  Unable to access the female subconscious directly, Delilah managed to command bursts of compulsion when Zared fed her female energy. Delilah watched the mortal toss restlessly. The woman moaned; her nipples gathered against the fabric of her blouse. Sparks erupted within Zared, making him look like a thundercloud.

  Come on. She was anxious to confront Chaos. Tormenting him entertained her nearly as well as screwing him senseless. Zared transmitted the energy in a narrow, concentrated stream. Delilah shook, her body resisting the influx of female energy. Heat engulfed her. Searing sensations ignited within her being, making her writhe and moan. Embracing the pain, she stabbed the sleep compulsion deep into the mortal’s brain.

  The woman sagged against the bed, and Zared faded from view, drawing the mortal deeper into the Dream Realm. Peeking into the hall, Delilah hesitated before emerging completely. She must be extremely careful until Zared prepared the trap.

  Chaos wasn’t in the small office in the front of the house. She drifted from room to room, growing more anxious as she found each one empty. If the collar rendered him powerless, he shouldn’t be able to release his form.

  You can lock yourself in the bathroom and test the effectiveness of the collar after you tell me about the succubus. The Dream Warrior’s mocking words reminded her of one room she’d yet to check.

  She passed through the door and allowed her image to appear. Chaos stood in front of the toilet, one hand braced against the wall, the other pumping with an unmistakable rhythm. His back was to her, but the motion of his arm and his frustrated grunts left no doubt what he was attempting to do.

  “So it’s true? You’re impotent?”

  With a vicious growl, he spun to face her, frantically righting his clothes as he turned. “You meddlesome bitch! This is your fault.”

  He reached for her throat. Delilah blinked out and reappeared behind him. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  “What do you want from me?” He didn’t bother to turn around. “What will it take to get you out of my life permanently?”

  “That’s easy. Kill Persephone.”

  He did turn then, his expression incredulous. “You want me to murder my father’s wife?”

  “She despises you. Why would you hesitate?”

  “Because she has done nothing wrong.”

  “And you are neither evil nor good?” She taunted.

  His gaze turned solid red, the perpetual motion gone. She smiled, remembering all the other times she had seen his eyes glow red. Passion and fury affected him much the same.

  “I will not kill Persephone.”

  “Then I’ll see you in your dreams.”

  “The collar prevents me from falling asleep.”

  She laughed. “You were never a convincing liar. It prevents me from compelling you to sleep, but you can’t stay awake forever.”

  * * * * *

  Warmth spread out from Sheri’s belly, stimulating her nipples, making her core throb. What was wrong with her? She’d been fuming about her unwanted guests when this tingling lethargy had made movement impossible. Then her body began to burn.

  Opening her eyes, she gasped. She was back in the tent. How had she gotten to the Dream Realm? She couldn’t have fallen asleep so quickly ...

  Her skin stung, her body ached, and tears filled her eyes. An oppressive presence hovered over her, enveloped her, aroused her. She struggled against the haze, but there was nothing tangible to fight, just the ever increasing need within her body.

  As if of their own volition, her hands skimmed her torso beneath the linen sheet. Her nipples formed distinct peaks against her palms. Desire pulsed between her thighs, hot, wet -- demanding.

  “Ryder!” She wasn’t sure if she called out with her voice or her mind. Why had he done this to her? She was just starting to like him, to trust that he meant her no harm. She rolled to her side, helplessly cupping her feminine mound. God, she hurt!

  “Ryder!”

  The tent flap parted, and the shadow dissipated. She panted, shaking helplessly. Ryder ducked inside, dressed as he’d been in her office.

  “What the hell did you do to me? Make it stop!”

  He rushed to her and knelt at her side, his hand trembling as he reached for her face. His dark gaze moved over her, filled with compassion and dread. “I didn’t do this, Sheri. How did you get here? This is not my illusion.”

  “I was ...” The shadow! “Can an incubus ... Help me.” She drew her legs up toward her chest, tears escaping the corners of her eyes.

  “By the gods, I swear I did not do this.” His hand hovered over her shoulder as if he were afraid to touch her body.

  Beyond modesty, beyond shame, she tossed back the sheet and raised her arms. “Please.”

  Their gazes locked, his burning with fury and compassion, hers hot with desire. He kicked aside his boots and tugged his tee shirt off. “Are you sure?” He paused with his hands on the waistband of his jeans.

  She closed her eyes, cupping her breasts and squeezing her thighs together. “It hurts.”

  “I’m sorry. This isn’t how I wanted our first time --”

  Scrambling to her knees, she jerked down his zipper and tugged his jeans along his powerful thighs. He pulled her to her feet and stepped out of the jeans, catching her wrist as she frantically reached for him.

  “I need you inside me, hard and fast. Now!”

  He framed her face with his hands, waiting until she looked into his eyes. “I know what the incubus did. It’s a powerful compulsion they use frequently. It’s a vicious cycle. It makes you desperate for penetration, but the more you get, the more you will want. I can disable the spell, but you have to trust me.”

  “Anything. Just make it stop.”

  Wrapping his arms around her, Ryder gathered her to his chest. Fury and desire wrestled within him. He wanted to make love to her slowly, sweetly, to savor each touch, each sigh. Damn the incubus and his tricks. Why attack Sheri now?

  He reached across the telepathic link and sensed Chaos’s volatile mood. The demi-god was angry and humiliated, but he was in no danger.

  “Kiss me, little love. Feel my body hot and hard against the softness of yours.”

  She looped her arms around his neck and arched into him, grinding her mound against his aching length. He grasped her hips and held her still as his mouth found hers, determined to set the pace. She wouldn’t let him be gentle. Her tongue thrust boldly. She cupped his butt and resumed her provocative grind.

  Easing his hand between their bodies, he threaded his fingers through her damp curls. She had to be going out of her mind. Gods damn the incubus! His heart constricted, forcing back his desire. He knew how this compulsion worked. If he gave her what her body demanded, it would make her need more intense. Patience and tenderness were the anecdotes.

  He could not lose control!

  “Do you trust me?” He whispered the question against her kiss-dampened lips.

  “Yes. Hurry, take me now.”

  He eased her back to the furs and covered her body with his. Raising her arms above her head and spreading her legs wide, he conjured padded leather cuffs, restraining her wrists and ankles. Long stakes drove into the ground, securing the restraints, holding her immobile so he could concentrate entirely on her pleasure.

  “You bastard!” She twisted and jerked against the restraints. “You did this to me, didn’t you? It’s all some perverted game.”

  He silenced her protests with a slow, gentle kiss. Slipping one arm beneath her neck, he caressed her throat, her shoulders, her breasts. He avoided her nipples, stroked, massaged, and soothed her. “Relax. I’ll join my body with yours, but not while the compulsion still burns.”

  Her tear-streaked face and miserable expression knotted Ryder’s stomach. Why had the incubus done this now? It didn’t make sense.

  Sheri was pliant, but her urgent kisses proved the compulsion still amplified her need. Ryder wanted to lash out, to decimate the incubus and the succubus con
trolling him. Protectiveness surged within Ryder, reinforcing his determination, strengthening his control. He had to make love to her tenderly, free her senses from the spell’s control.

  Sheri’s tummy quivered; her thighs flexed. He accompanied each touch with a soft kiss, whispered endearments, and encouragement. Easing his middle finger between her creamy folds, Ryder groaned.

  Gods, she’s wet! Hot and ready. More than ready! You can’t. Not yet. Think of her. He found her swollen clit and circled, keeping his touch slow and sure. She arched and tossed her hips, but he concentrated on the true nature of her need. Building the tension by degrees, he coaxed two gentle orgasms from her body. She cried out, her body shaking with the intensity of her pleasure.

  “Now? Can we ...”

  “Not yet, but soon.”

  Trembling with the aftershocks of her second orgasm, Sheri stared up into Ryder’s dark eyes. “Why did you tie me up? If you didn’t make me feel like this, why ...”

  The warmth in his gaze made her stomach flutter, and tension gripped her chest. He cupped her breast, his thumb lightly stroking her nipple. “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. The compulsion is making you wild, and I can’t afford to lose control. If I give in and take you hard and fast, like we both want, we’ll have to start all over again.”

  “Would that be so terrible?”

  “Yes.” His expression was grave, his eyes serious. “The urgency is lessening each time you find release, but aggression fuels the spell, makes the demand stronger.” His hand moved from one breast to the other, his fingers barely grazing her skin.

  “I don’t understand the difference. If each orgasm lessens the compulsion, why not just -- do it until we both feel better?”

  He caught her nipple between his finger and thumb. “Do you have something against foreplay?” Increasing the pressure gradually, he built the sensation to a sharp pinch. Sheri gasped and twisted, but even the pain made heat flood her core. “Is this how your body usually responds?”

  Panting harshly, she shook her head.

  “The spell makes you crave aggression. I must give you tenderness.”

  Deep inside her desire-muddled brain, she understood. He couldn’t just screw her; they had to make love. Relaxing in the restraints, Sheri yielded to his ministrations. She followed his lead, let him set the pace. His warm mouth moved along her throat, onto the upper swell of her breasts. He licked her nipples, traced her areolas, but ignored her murmured protests when he wouldn’t suckle.

  Tenderness, patience, each brush of his lips, each stroke of his tongue illustrated his determination. He would guide her through this. Despite his massive erection, he would wait to enter her until she was free from the spell.

  He waved his hand toward her left ankle, and the restraint disappeared. Lifting her leg, he ducked beneath. He rested his cheek against her other thigh and flashed a rakish grin as he draped her free leg over his side.

  “Now, this is a spectacular view.”

  She didn’t speak, could scarcely think beyond the demanding desire pounding through her veins. The longer he waited between orgasms, the more demanding her need became. Parting her passion-slick folds, he moved in close, his breath wafting across her exposed flesh.

  “Do you want my tongue or my fingers?” His voice was a throaty growl.

  “Yes.”

  He chuckled. “Yes it is.” Tracing her slit with his fingers, he firmly stroked her clit with his tongue.

  After only a few seconds, Sheri shattered. Shocked and a bit embarrassed, she looked down into his eyes. He continued to stroke her with his tongue, but his dark gaze watched her face, glowing with tenderness, and something she was afraid to name.

  Parting her folds with his fingers, he rimmed her entrance with his tongue, around but never into her aching core. Sheri groaned as erotic heat cocooned her. She’d been kissed like this before, but Ryder was so consumed by the act, it left her breathless and trembling. He licked and nibbled, laved and sucked. She came over and over. Time and space blurred until there was only pleasure, one wave crashing upon the next.

  Echoes of release reverberated through her body. He released her other leg and settled between her thighs. Hooking his hands behind her knees, he pushed her legs up and back, spreading her thighs wide.

  Sheri licked her lips, anticipation twisting through her. She felt brazen and wanton as she waited for the first forceful thrust of his shaft. With her wrists bound and his strong hands holding her open, she couldn’t help but think of her original fantasy. Conquered, plundered, the spoils of war.

  “Sweetheart, look at me.” She met his gaze. “I’ll be happy to ravish you, but it can’t be tonight. That’s the reason he created this illusion. It reinforces your need for rough play. Watch my eyes. Relax, and accept me. Respond with your heart, not just your body.”

  He pushed into her slowly, filling her inch by glorious inch. She opened for him, stretched around him, amazed at how much he had to give. When he was buried to the hilt, he released her legs and balanced his weight on his knees. He caressed her breasts with one hand, her face with the other, his eyes never leaving hers.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips, content to be filled by him, to drown in the warmth of his gaze. “This is nice.” He pulled back and filled her again. “No, that was nice.”

  Grinning, he grasped her hips and established a rhythm, slow and steady, strong and deep. She arched into each thrust, caressed him with her inner muscles. His hands moved to her bottom, lifting her, adjusting the angle of her hips. Deeper, he filled her more completely, his rhythm still steady and sure.

  She clenched her fists, wishing she could touch him as tension coiled inside of her. Tightening her body around his shaft, she embraced him intimately.

  “Not yet.” He thrust deep and held still, waiting for the sensations to recede.

  “The compulsion is gone,” she cried. “Why did you do that?”

  After a long pause, he whispered, “I don’t want this to end.”

  The raw emotion in his tone sent warm shivers down her spine, and tears stung her eyes. Her lips trembled. He kissed her, softly, tenderly, and her being accepted him. He might not be real in the conventional sense, but she’d never felt anything like this.

  He hooked her legs over his arms, grabbed her bottom with both hands, and parted her thighs further. Possessive passion shone in his gaze. Heat curled through her body, an instinctive response to the promised pleasure in his eyes. Over and over, he drove into her. His fingers clutched her bottom. She moaned. Surrendering the last of her resistance, she opened her heart to him.

  His gaze searched hers as his body moved, hinting at, hoping for things she didn’t understand. Searing heat burst within Sheri. Her nipples tingled and her toes curled. She cried out, arching high as he drove deep, shuddering violently.

  Chapter Six

  Snuggling against Ryder’s warm body, Sheri never wanted to wake up. After reversing the incubus’s compulsion, Ryder had shifted the illusion, creating a sunny meadow surrounded by rugged mountains and a cloudless sky. They’d explored together, learning the texture and taste of each other inch by inch.

  Sheri stroked her hand along his thick bicep and gasped. She was awake, and Ryder was solid. How was this possible?

  “Ryder.” She sat up in the middle of her bed. “Ryder!”

  “Good morning.”

  She looked around, shaking away the last of sleep’s lethargy. This was her bedroom, her bed. “I’m awake.”

  “I see that.”

  “And you’re solid.”

  He grinned. “You might even say I’m hard.” Dragging her hand downward, he demonstrated his claim.

  “I’m awake, Ryder. Why can I touch you?”

  She snatched back her hand. He sat as well, confusion finally registering on his features. “I’m solid.”

  “Not a morning person, I take it?”

  “This has never happened before. If I concentrate great bursts of energy, I c
an force myself to materialize. Why am I solid?”

  They were both fully dressed. Sheri crawled off the bed. An undeniable twinge of disappointment assailed her. None of it had been real. The tenderness, the pleasure, the intimacies they’d shared had all been a vivid dream.

  “This is bizarre.” Ryder kept poking himself as if he expected the effect to wear off.

  “Last night happened for a reason. Is Chaos all right? They wanted you distracted.”

  “Mission accomplished.” He rolled off his side of the bed and stood. “Chaos is downstairs, awake and irritable.”

  “That sounds about right.” She picked up the phone and punched in the number of the Carroll Foundation. “I’m going to call in sick again. There are a few too many spirits in my house right now to leave you guys unattended.” She left a quick message for her boss, then returned the phone to the nightstand.

  Ryder blinked out for a moment, then reappeared, his brow furrowed, his lips compressed. “I still have access to the Dream Realm, yet I am solid.” He moved about the room, touching the furniture.

  “Should you go talk to Morpheus or something?”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?” He pulled her into his arms with a lazy smile.

  “If we didn’t have a houseguest, I’d suggest we explore your newfound solidity.”

  Cupping her cheek with his palm, he stroked her lips with his thumb, his gaze suddenly serious. “I need to understand how it began. Do you remember what happened before you called out to me?”

  She remained in his embrace, but lowered her gaze to his chest. “I was lying on the bed, wondering what I’d done to deserve you.”

  “It doesn’t sound complimentary when you say it like that.”

  “Then I sensed ... or rather, I no longer sensed ... It’s really hard to explain.” She looked up into his eyes. “I felt as if something was leeching the heat from my body. I couldn’t lie still, but I could hardly move. Then right before I woke up in the tent ...” She chuckled. “The terminology gets tricky when dreams are as real as reality.”