Instead, his soul had to shine for her. That special glow from inside him, that light which poured from his eyes inspired much warmth and tenderness. She knew such a man had to exist outside of her dreams. He just had to!
The mere thought of him climbing from her dreams into her reality made Nadia weak with desire. She sank down onto the matching stool before the dresser. “I need a thorough shag,” she said to herself, “before I go crazy."
She began to caress her pale, bare skin, running her fingers over her small upturned breasts, watching their pink tips tighten. They throbbed against her fingers as she squeezed them. She moaned.
Observing herself in the mirror made Nadia feel rather naughty and this caused her to become even hotter and wetter. She trailed a path down her belly to the thatch of damp copper curls. Once there, she spread her thighs wider and opened her lips to expose her inner secrets. She watched her fingers slide over her pulsing clit and then lower, dipping into her drenched heat. She imagined him pleasuring her this way, and she raised her ass to meet her thrusting fingers. Her breasts bounced with the motion. She added another finger, thrusting two deep inside her velvety heat.
As her body undulated, her hair floated about her pale skin. She looked the wanton creature, panting and thrusting wildly in pursuit of her own gratification. Her muscles spasmed and gripped her fingers greedily. She bit her lip and ground herself against them, taking them as far as they would go, still wanting more ... wanting him deep inside her. Her juices glistened on her fingers as she retracted and inserted them over and over, until she could no longer bear the intense rapture and came hard.
She withdrew her fingers and licked the juices from them. She imagined him tasting her, and she couldn't help the frustrated sigh that escaped her. The fact was that she wanted him badly. If only such a thing were possible.
Nadia hastily washed up and dressed in a pair of white panties and lacy push-up bra, a lemon-colored ribbed cashmere sweater, a long charcoal-grey woolen skirt, pantyhose, and black knee-high boots. Rose will approve of my attire.
She quickly applied black-brown kohl liner around her eyes and brown mascara to her long lashes. Brushing her hair out, she let it hang loosely about her shoulders. She fluffed her fringe, crinkled her freckle-smattered nose, and flashed a beaming white smile. “Hey, baby, you look hotter than the Sahara Desert.” She winked at her reflection and giggled.
After one last spin before the mirror, she was good to go. She turned, grabbed her woolen coat off the four-poster bed, and made for the door, a well-fed Muffie protesting loudly as she walked briskly down the hall.
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Chapter 6
Nadia smiled and nodded at Sarah as she entered Susanne's Haven. “Rose Virgilio's table, please."
"Certainly, Ms. Kimble.” The attendant smiled back as she took Nadia's coat. “Ms. Virgilio was a little concerned you wouldn't arrive on time."
Nadia felt her cheeks flush. “Oh. I see."
"Don't worry, you're not too late."
Nadia sighed. “Thank goodness for that."
"Come. We'll get you seated so you can order."
She ushered Nadia past the seated diners to the tables at the rear of the restaurant.
Susanne's Haven was a place one usually had to book well in advance, which led Nadia to believe Rose had help garnering a table tonight. Her suspicions were confirmed when she laid eyes on the beautiful Spaniard: Rose had brought Bruce along with her. Bruce was Rose's ticket to the unobtainable.
The restaurant had a romantic air, which Nadia appreciated. A soft golden glow reflected off the glassware, white and red linen, and highly polished timber furnishings.
Nadia discerned the mouthwatering smells of various grilled and spicy meats, sauces, herb breads, pastas, cheeses, steaming vegetables, and more ... Her stomach rumbled loudly, and she looked around to see whether anyone had heard.
A dark-haired male who was sipping wine with two silver-blonde haired companions caught her eye. His pale, sculpted cheekbones, jaw, and chin fitted the knight who invaded her dreams on a regular basis. She could almost feel the thickness of the silky black curls that teased the collar of his crisp white shirt.
The way that shirt stretched across the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders made her want to run her hands over it, to discover exactly how tightly it fitted. The notion of unbuttoning it to feel the texture of his skin, kiss his neck, and inhale his pure male essence caused her pussy to pulsate. She knew, without a doubt, that her panties were wet.
She lifted her eyes to meet his penetrating ones and forgot to breathe. Dark and mesmerizing, they pulled at her insides. A slow smile crept up a firm set of lips, and his gleaming white teeth flashed at her. “Do you remember who I am, Nadia?” he asked, without uttering a word aloud.
He's telepathic! This isn't happening to me! I've finally gone crazy from writing too many works of fiction!
His look was knowing, intimate, and affectionate. Oh, my God! My dream knight is real! He's just as perfect in reality. How can this be? It's not possible
"Ms. Kimble? Ms. Kimble, are you all right?” She heard Sarah ask in the distance.
The beautiful man nodded and then returned his attention to his male and female companions.
Nadia tore her gaze away from his extraordinarily familiar form, sucking in much needed air as she did. Her heart rate was through the roof; she felt ill and needed to sit for a minute or two, or else she'd more than likely heave the remaining contents of her stomach upon the floor. Her lunch wouldn't be completely digested yet.
"Ms. Kimble, are you all right?"
"I-I'm perfectly fine.” Nadia summoned a smile for Sarah as she removed her vice-like grip from the table before her. “Just fine...” She forced her legs to move forward. She stumbled, but she caught herself in time. His eyes were on her; she could feel their warmth penetrating her back.
"Are you certain, Ms. Kimble? You look rather pale."
"Indeed. I am indeed fine.” Straightening the messed up tablecloth, she pressed on towards her designated table.
Get a grip, Nadia, it's just a coincidence. Nothing more. You're acting crazy, old duck. She stifled a groan when she realized that both Rose and Bruce had witnessed her bizarre behavior.
"Bruce, it's nice to see you again.” She leaned in and kissed his pudgy brown cheeks. “Rose.” She pecked both of Rose's heavily made-up ones and then seated herself. “How are you, dear?"
Rose leaned in and whispered, “What the devil has gotten into you?” Her tone rang with displeasure. She'd have frowned had she not been injected with Botox.
Nadia waved a hand in the direction of the table where he sat. “I know this will sound crazy, but that dark-haired man two tables down, the one in a white shirt and blue-grey woolen trousers, looks just like the character in my latest book."
"Nocturnal Offering?"
Nadia nodded. Rose's dark eyes rolled upward, and she let out a long sigh. “I swear you get nuttier as the years go by."
Nadia couldn't really blame Rose for her reaction.
Bruce moved his hand over Rose's, his fingers sliding through hers. “You could at least look, sweetheart."
Rose shrugged, turned, and then gasped. “What's he doing here?"
"Dining with his dearest friends Robert and Grace,” Bruce replied.
Nadia didn't like being left out of the loop in such situations. She cleared her throat loudly. They both turned to look at her. “Would either of you mind telling me what's going on?"
Rose waved at Bruce. “Go ahead, make her behavior worse than it already is."
"I take exception to that statement, Rose."
Rose's shoulders slumped. “Sorry. I'm having a hormonal day as well."
"Hmm. No harm done.” Nadia glanced at round-faced Bruce.
He scratched his balding head. “The male you're referring to is my employer."
Nadia's throat suddenly went dry. Rose poured her a glass of water, which she
gulped down rapidly. “Ch-Charles Poitier?” came out of her mouth, barely more than a whisper.
"Yes, but don't announce that fact to the world. He's a rather private man, you see."
Nadia's heart hammered rapidly in her chest. At this rate, stress would likely kill her before she reached thirty years of age. Coldness clawed its way under her skin—something was very wrong with this picture. “Why is he here tonight?"
Rose shook her head. “He has to eat as well, you know. The w—"
Nadia held up her hand. “I know. I know. The world doesn't revolve around me, right? I get it."
The party of three rose, all nodded in their direction, and then departed the restaurant single file. Charles Poitier's blonde companions looked very familiar to Nadia too. She tried to recall where she might have seen them before, but the details seemed to fuzz out.
That can't be all there is! Disappointment filled her for the second time that day. What is it about that man? Am I simply going crazy?
"If you desire more, accept my invitation. Be my Nocturnal Offering." His mentally communicated words triggered an adrenaline rush.
Nadia hastily got to her feet. “Look, I'm not all that hungry now. I'm feeling a little under the weather. I'll catch up with you tomorrow, Rose."
"Are you sure you won't stay for dessert?"
"No. I can't ... won't stay down, I'm afraid. Come by the house in the morning and we'll talk."
"I'll call you.” Rose obviously planned to shag Bruce all night long.
Nadia nodded. “Okay. Just don't forget to call me."
"You're my bread and butter, dear. How could I forget you?"
"Ha! Very amusing. With friends like you, who needs enemies?"
Rose laughed in reply.
Nadia patted Bruce's arm. “It was good to see you again. You have my apologies for interrupting your evening. Perhaps we can make it some other time?"
"Sounds like a plan.” He winked.
"Enjoy the rest of your evening, folks."
Nadia pulled her coat tightly about her as she exited the restaurant. The evening carried an extra bite from the wind. She looked all over; he was nowhere in sight. I'm going stark raving bonkers. I really need to get it together. A long rest will do me some good.
She turned to make her way toward Ladybug, her Volkswagen, which was parked a half a block down the street.
Charles stood there in the darkness, watching her just as he had when she'd masturbated earlier that evening. His cock had grown hard at the memory. He could scarcely wait to get inside her on Halloween night. Forever wasn't nearly long enough...
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Chapter 7
Club Decadent, Nocturnal Offering
Halloween, October 31
Halloween night found Nadia standing inside the grey stone walls of the castlelike Club Decadent. Her costume was a simple medieval style gown of cream and emerald-green velvet, and she wore a matching cream and green velvet half mask. Nadia had found a golden key the moment she stepped over the threshold. She couldn't help but wonder whether she was meant to discover it.
Most of the furnishings were decorated in shades of red, offset by a profusion of thriving potted plants. Nadia had enjoyed Rose and Bruce's company while devouring a fine roasted meal and white wine. Wishing her a shagging good time, Rose had deserted her the moment dinner ended.
Nadia had wandered through the magnificent ballroom, enjoying renaissance and baroque music. However, she had yet to dance. The offers she'd received hadn't been to her liking ... She couldn't fathom why it had to be him she danced with, or why she sought him out. It all seemed too ridiculous to contemplate.
Admittedly, the whole scene had surprised her more than she'd expected. Her head was spinning from all the entertainment she'd witnessed. Not that the debauchery concerned her too much. She just wasn't about to join the other guests, no matter how many times she was asked.
Gratuitous displays of fornication filled almost every available space—the banquet hall and main ballroom were the only exceptions.
Exhibitionists fucked in twos, threes, and groups. Men with men and women with women, they fornicated on crimson couches, beds, floors, tables, and stairwells. Even the leafy internal courtyard and swimming pools were filled with undulating, rutting forms. Grunts and groans echoed throughout the enormous structure.
Suddenly, cool, long fingers enclosed Nadia's forearms as his solid form pressed firmly against hers from behind. She could feel everything. He smelled bone-meltingly divine. Oh, God, it's him! I think I'm going mad!
"You were surprised to see me the other night.” His breath caressed her ear, and his tone mesmerized her. Fortunately, he was holding her, or else she'd have fallen on the floor. His close proximity did peculiar things to her insides.
"I-I ... well, yes."
"Were you stunned I was the one who invited you to my Nocturnal Offering masquerade ball?"
She nodded. “I imagined you acquired the information from Rose. At first, I thought it was a publicity thing..."
"I see. And now?"
"My dreams, merging with reality, I still have difficulty believing..."
"I noticed ... I wondered whether you'd gotten my message,” he whispered.
She felt his cock harden against her bottom. It felt heavenly to have him so close. “I received your message loud and clear, Mr. Poitier."
"Mr. Poitier?” He laughed softly. “Come now, Nadia. You know we're on more intimate terms than that."
A shiver of excitement ran through her. Her limbs were starting to feel like jelly. She tried to calm her panted breaths. “I-I don't know what you mean."
"Don't play coy; it displeases me.” His lips moved down the column of her throat. “Do you remember how it feels to wear my bite, beloved?"
"Your bite?” she couldn't keep the shudder out of her tone. “What an absurd thing to say, Charles."
"So Nocturnal Offering isn't about you and I, then?"
"It's purely fiction.” Stop lying to yourself, Nadia!
"Mmm ... I see. So why am I the primary focus of your story?"
"I...” Nadia shrugged. She was out of excuses and tired of denying it all.
He took her hand, and suddenly they were in the ballroom. “Let's dance, shall we?"
She sucked in several calming breaths. “How did you do that?"
"I am immortal, dear. Remember, I can move faster than a blink of an eye.” He snapped his fingers.
Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata played, and couples danced about the room. He held her close as they waltzed. He was an excellent dancer, and she thoroughly enjoyed keeping in step with him.
Nadia gulped for air as she moved, her mind swinging from incredulity to belief. “I recall ... so many things..."
"Was masturbating while imagining me fucking you pure frustration, because you couldn't have me for real?"
"Oh, yes...” Night after night, in fact!
"Did you ever ask yourself why I'm always in your dreams, Nadia?"
"Yes.” She sighed.
"And?” He nibbled at her ear.
"Oooh.” She closed her eyes and absorbed the pleasure. “I knew we had a special connection."
When she opened her eyes again her stomach knotted as she surveyed the surroundings. BDSM paraphernalia crammed the chamber where they now stood. Dominants and submissives were engrossed in special entertainments.
Nadia stepped further into the room; an icy chill worked its way down her spine as his eyes burned into her. She watched a master dress a slave in a kikkou rope tie—Shibari, the ancient art of Japanese rope bondage, fascinated her. It was such a beautiful art form.
His hands slid down her arms, and he laced his fingers through hers. “This fascinates you, although you deny it. I know you better than you know yourself.” He removed her mask, and then his lips brushed her cheek.
"Mmmm...” The pit of her belly quivered in nervous anticipation.
"Come on, Nadia. Moan a little l
ouder.” His teeth sank into her neck, and he began to drink from her.
Icy pain shot through her body. She let out a piercing scream that drowned out the other sounds in the room.
"Do you remember now?" he asked telepathically.
The pain rapidly subsided, and warmth throbbed through Nadia's body to replace it. His teeth retracted and his mouth moved over her wound, his tongue gently stroking. “How could I not remember? I really thought my imagination was too vivid. I worried the men in white coats were going to show up on my door, straightjacket in hand, and take me away."
"Hmm ... while you exude peculiar behavior, this certainly doesn't make you insane, my dear.” His lips brushed over her neck and ear.
Soon Nadia's pussy beat to his sensual rhythm. Her body tightened as ecstasy curled its way through her belly and extended out to her limbs.
How could I ever forget such a magic touch?
"Much better, my sweet,” he whispered. “Do you remember how your blood warms me?” he whispered.
"Yes, I remember.” She noticed he wore no mask. She longed to turn and look upon him. Heat coursed through her veins.
"And your promise to me upon your deathbed, eight hundred years ago?"
"I remember.” She nodded. “Just as it is written in my novel."
"Yes, just as it is written in your novel.” His lips traveled over her cheek.
"I know I'm repeating myself, but I thought I was going mad.” She laughed. Without realizing it, she'd turned to receive his kiss.
His hungry mouth savaged hers, his tongue gracefully twisting and gliding with her own. His fingers worked to unlace her gown.
She buried her hands in his luxuriant curls and dragged him closer, needing to feel him possessing her.
Suddenly, she was against the wall, her dress falling to the floor and her panties and bra closely following. His mouth gorged on her breasts, his teeth nipping, his fingers squeezing.
"Oh! I can't wait to fuck you."
He sank to his knees, caressing her inner thighs and ass-cheeks, then drawing her close to drink her flowing juices. Slow strokes flicked over her clit and labia before sinking into her aching vagina. Deliberately and sensually, his mouth performed the best oral she'd had in this lifetime. She lifted a leg over his shoulder, and he buried his face further in her heat to tongue her drenched pussy with hungry abandon.
A Torrid Celebration! Page 9