“I wish I could see your eyes, mellis. What beautiful color will I find when you finally wake?” Cato released a sigh and leaned forward. “So, where did I leave off? Oh, yes. I believe I’d just described the Montis mountain range on my home world. Your drawing brought back many memories of that place. My father used to take me right after our three moons rose high in the sky and the sun peaked at the horizon. It was there that I learned to be silent on my feet as we hunted the kruthka with nothing except the swords on our backs. It’s a fierce creature and resembles your wild boar, except for the size. Kruthka are large as a horse and as tasty as the cow. Don’t get me wrong, Angeli. We’re not a backward species. Insedivertus is far more advanced than Earth, yet our culture prides itself on self-reliance. We were taught that mindless trust in technology almost always precedes the downfall of an advanced race. Every adult Insedi is tasked with training their children to survive as if we’d just risen from our genesis.”
Cato’s brows drew together. “What am I doing? If you could open your eyes, sweetness. Would I find fear at what I’ve revealed? Would you find me hilarious and think I’m one of the crazed that wanders the halls and speaks to the shadows?” Slumping back against the chair, Cato rubbed his forehead with his free hand. He couldn’t bring himself to release her hand from his other. He felt comfort when touching her skin. “Rest, baby. I’ll satisfy myself with listening to you breathe.” Cato willed his eyes to close. Eventually, his breath synced with hers and he fell quickly into a fitful slumber.
* * * *
Cato opened his eyes and drew in a quick breath of surprise at the shroud of thick fog surrounding him. Looking down, he recognized the magenta grasses of his home world beneath his boots and chuckled. You’re dreaming. Wake up, fool. When he stayed firmly attached to the ground, he shrugged and glanced around. “Let’s hope a kruthka isn’t lurking about.” Reaching backward to his shoulder, he was surprised to find his favorite sword wasn’t snugly attached within its leather brace.
Great, you damn idiot. Let’s dream of hunting and not be prepared. Squinting into the mists, he was barely able to discern much of his immediate surroundings. He knew the mountain range was to his left. Despite the soupy mixture, the highest Montis Peak loomed as a mighty beast and cast a darkened shadow across a majority of the veil. Even if he hadn’t seen the shift in shading, he would have known by the trail of purple vines lining the path before him. This particular vegetation grew only within the eastern valley. He knew this terrain by heart and could probably navigate by feel alone.
Okay, buddy. It’s your dream. Where do you want to go? Further up the trail to the sweet spring or behind you to the flat plains? Cato shook his head and laughed loudly at the insanity of his words. Why don’t you just wake the hell up before someone catches you snoozing in Jane Doe’s room, you damn moron.
“Hello?”
Shocked at the softly spoken greeting, Cato crouched into a fighting stance and waited. He immediately picked up the sound of branches being moved aside and tentative steps around long-stalked crichton bushes reaching out to snag an unsuspecting traveler. Gradually, a feminine form emerged from the mists and took his breath away. Slowly, he rose to his full height and lowered his arms. He didn’t want to frighten the beautiful creature standing before him. Her name left his lips on a hushed whisper. “Luna.”
She wore a dark blue gown that fell just below her knees. It was similar to the hospital gown, yet sleeveless. The material swayed slightly in the breeze and hinted at her lush breasts and curvy hips. She held her arms casually to her sides, but he could see the nervous clench and release of her fists. He suppressed a smile when he noticed that her feet were bare. Familiar black hair swept back from her features and he could imagine a long, silky braid moving behind her back as she approached. The words were stronger as she called out to him again.
“Hello? Are you real?”
The familiar, husky voice washed over his senses and he was dumbstruck. No words would leave his mouth. When he glanced up to her face, he was immediately drawn in and remained locked in place. He drank in her features, yet refused to look into her eyes. He feared his dream would turn into a nightmare if they were nothing more than black, empty sockets, so he focused elsewhere. Her skin was perfect with just the barest hint of pink tinge dusting her high cheekbones. Delicate nostrils flared below a perfectly straight nose. Her full lips were partially opened and upturned on one side as if she wanted to smile, yet wasn’t quite certain of her safety. Her jawline and chin were delicate and smoothly transitioned into a long, graceful neck. She was close enough that he could see her heartbeat thrumming against her skin. Suddenly, she halted a few feet away and spoke in a shaky whisper.
“Are you an angel? Have I died?”
He flipped his eyes to hers. Her beautifully arched brows rose in question as he locked onto the cerulean pools fringed with thick, black lashes and laced with concern. His gut clenched at the stark reminder that he was locked in his own dream. He was imagining her. He’d never seen her eyes and had replaced them with ones the same color he’d seen in the mirror for years. With a resigned sigh, he answered.
“No, my sweetness. Far from it.”
* * * *
Luna stared at the vision before her. She’d called out to him several times, but he’d only stared at her. Perhaps this was another figment of her imagination? She’d tried to leave this area several times, yet the thick fog wouldn’t release her. Despite the strangeness of her surroundings, she felt oddly calm. Maybe she’d conjured another so she wouldn’t feel so alone and helpless.
The storyteller had already left and no matter how much she begged, his words hadn’t drifted back into her head. She wanted to learn more of the alien world of which he spoke, and in which she now resided. His voice had been deep and mesmerizing as he told of his ancestors’ genesis, a vortex that allowed his brothers to travel to Earth, and unimaginable tragedy when their females had been taken from them.
She’d cried when he’d spoken of his sister’s drowning death, his mother’s death at the hands of a madman, and the ever-growing distance from his father. She could understand his pain. She’d laughed when hearing stories of his friends and their many escapades. She knew she’d imagined him when his presence would disappear for what felt like hours. Only when she thought she couldn’t take the quietness a moment more, his voice would return. She’d thought herself alone in the vastness of her dream and had given up hope of ever finding her way out.
She’d just dipped her toes into the gurgling stream discovered moments ago and resigned herself to a long bout of staring at the strange, colorful fish darting beneath the crystalline water. She was biding her time while she waited for the storyteller to return. When she’d actually heard masculine laughter, the first thought had been to run, but to where? She was glad she’d finally found the courage to approach. Her visitor was devastatingly beautiful.
The man was exceptionally tall and built like a pro-football player with broad shoulders, massive arms, muscular chest, and narrow waist. She liked his clothes. He wore a black, sleeveless, Iron Maiden T-shirt. His hair was dark like hers and short, yet still long enough to run your fingers through. The top was thicker and gently spiked. The tips were blue and just added another layer to his bad-boy persona. His face was perfectly proportioned with slashing brows, flawless nose, full, sculpted lips, and a strong jaw dusted with a light beard. His eyes, fringed with thick lashes, were traveling her body, and she couldn’t make out the color. Small, gunmetal-gray balls lined his right ear, and she could see the beginning of a large, tribal tattoo peeking out from the neckline of his shirt and extending down his right bicep, but not quite to his elbow. The lines were clean and the color well-tended.
Faded jeans hugged his thick thighs and she smiled when she recognized the Harley Davidson XElement boots. They were well-worn and the left one was noticeably scuffed along the top. She glanced around and expected to see that he’d arrived on a monstrous bike. Her gu
t clenched and she stopped her approach. Wasn’t this a fantasy she’d harbored for years? Hadn’t she wished for a man of strength to come rescue her from her awful life? She’d felt her lips trembling when she’d asked if he was an angel and if she’d died.
When his eyes had flipped up to hers, she felt a shiver of electricity pass through her body. Stunning, intense, blue eyes continued to study her. She’d watched sadness cross his features even though he’d told her she wasn’t dead. A flood of warmth washed over her as soon as she heard his deep, masculine voice. She smiled and stepped closer. “You. You’re my storyteller.” Transfixed, she watched puzzlement move across his handsome face before returning back to sadness.
“Yes. I’m your storyteller. I suppose you’ll now tell me that you liked everything I said and it doesn’t frighten you. Otherwise this will become a nightmare and I’ll soon wake.”
Luna narrowed her brows in confusion. “I loved your stories. I’ve been waiting for you to return and tell me more. It comforts me.” She was surprised at his snort of derision.
“Of course you love them. I’m a glutton for punishment and refuse to acknowledge the inevitable. Even in my dreams. I suppose this is where the kruthka will charge from the thicket and I’ll have to save you.”
Stepping closer, Luna placed her hand on his chest and was happy it didn’t pass through. He was real enough. However, she was confused at the turn of his emotions. This was her dream, or perhaps her “in between” before moving on to another reality. She’d conjured this beautiful entity and she wasn’t going to waste another moment wondering what the hell he was talking about.
“I haven’t seen any kruthka around, but if it does pop out and try to kill me, then I have no doubt you’d win. If nothing appears, then I’ll still give you a kiss for saving me. Your voice has kept me from losing what’s left of my mind. It’s the least that I can do to thank you.” Luna was surprised at his bark of laughter.
“Of course! You would offer the greatest desire I’ve harbored from the moment I heard your voice. I’m projecting my needs through you. I’m surprised you haven’t said you loved me yet.”
Luna stepped back and frowned. “What on Earth are you talking about?” She didn’t flinch when his large hand wrapped around her arm and gently kept her from moving away.
“Ah, sweetness. This should be proof enough that I’m dreaming. Look around. You’ve obviously passed time here or you wouldn’t have avoided the crichton as adeptly as you did. This isn’t Earth. Where do you think you are?”
Luna glanced around the foggy landscape and then down to the magenta grass vibrating against her toes. She flipped her gaze back to his and smiled. “It’s just a common saying. I know it’s not Earth. I’ve seen this before. It’s the place that you come from. It’s Insedivertus. You’re not dreaming. I am.” Luna shrugged and moved closer.
“I’m either dead or close to being there. You’re the personification of what I’ve always desired. You’d protect me from rampaging beasts and talk to me when I’m sad and lonely. Of course, I also conjured you into the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my life. Hell, if I’m about to bite it, I can’t complain about the view.” She placed both hands on his chest and enjoyed the heat penetrating through the soft T-shirt and the rumble vibrating across her palms. Luna threw caution aside. As was evident, life was too short to hesitate when something felt right. She moved her hands across the bulging muscles of his chest then reached up to clasp each side of his face. She caressed the fine stubble running the length of his jaw and gifted him with a brilliant smile.
“Now tell me about this desire you’ve had, storyteller. Perhaps I’m projecting my needs through you.”
Chapter 9
Cato knew this was a figment of his imagination, yet he still grasped the small, warm hands caressing his skin and pulled them to his shoulders. He knew that he sat slumped in the chair beside her bed, yet he still placed his hand to the back of her head. He was well aware that the beautiful woman smiling up at him really didn’t know the truth of things, yet he still wrapped her silky braid around his wrist and tilted her head back. He stared into her luminous eyes and dipped his head closer to hers. His words came out low and heated as he placed a palm to her lower back and pulled her tight against his body.
“I know you’re not real, but I don’t care. I want you, Angeli. Probo mea gusto ista. Let me taste you.”
As soon as her plump, moist lips parted, he was on her. He felt her fingers dig into his skin when their mouths met in a clash of need and urgency. Her groan of acceptance ramped his desire even higher. He slid his tongue along hers and tasted ambrosia. She was warm and soft and he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to mist and push himself inside her body and stay forever. He wasn’t surprised that he didn’t feel the Occasio surge overwhelm his senses or the heated sting of the mating necklace dangling against his chest. It was just another reminder that he swirled in a dream of his own making.
His cock pressed hard and insistent against his jeans when she pulled back and caught his lip with her teeth. Gently, she bit down then licked the sting. He opened his eyes when she tilted her head back. Her look of trust mixed with innocence broke his insistence of disbelieving this reality. Releasing her, he stepped back and yanked his shirt over his head and threw it to the side. His boots and socks landed seconds later. He couldn’t help the low rumble that carried his words.
“I want you against my flesh. Let me have you.” At her quick nod, he reached down and lifted the blue gown up her body. Every second revealed more of her lush curves and creamy flesh. Her mound was clean shaven and he could see the delicate slit between her legs beginning to glisten for him. Growling in discontent from being unable to see and touch everything at once, he ripped the cloth over her head and looked down in wonder. She was breathing rapidly and fighting to keep from lifting her arms to cover her flesh. He reached forward and caressed her flushed cheek.
“No. Never hide yourself from me. You’re beautiful. Look at yourself as I do, Angeli. Your breasts are magnificent. Such sweet little nipples waiting for my tongue. They’ve tightened just from my gaze.” He palmed each globe and smiled at her sudden intake of breath. “So very soft and they fit perfectly within my palm.”
He teased one nipple with his thumb then traced a finger slowly down her shivering flesh. He caressed her gently rounded belly and whispered, “This is my favorite part. It’s here that you would carry my child. You’ve no idea how appropriate that this beautiful tattoo of the phoenix rising from the ashes sits here upon your flesh.” Something inside him shifted when her eyes shone with unshed tears. A sense of urgency wafted across his senses.
Cato stepped back a pace and popped open the top button of his jeans. Quickly, he slid the zipper open and shoved the material down to where it hung on his hips and trapped his cock at the base. Eyes narrowed, he watched as her gaze traveled appreciatively across his body and locked to where his hands lay still and waiting. “Do you see how he fights to be free? He knows you’re near and he wants you. I want you.”
When her pink tongue darted out and licked across her lower lip, he hummed his approval, pushed the jeans to the ground, and kicked them away. Grasping the beast rising strong before her, he gently squeezed the bulbous head and watched a pearl of pre-cum slide down and hit the top of his thumb. He swirled the creamy liquid against the sensitive flesh and groaned. “Look how he weeps for you.” His skin shivered as her husky words caressed his ears.
“Damn, storyteller. What are you doing to me? I can’t breathe.”
“Come to me, sweetness. Put your flesh against mine. I need to feel you.” His heart thundered within his chest when there was no hesitation in her forward steps. He wrapped his arms around her waist, as hers linked around his neck, and easily lifted her from the ground. The warmth of her body sank deep into his soul and he whispered across the skin of her neck, “Are you mine, Angeli?
“Yes, storyteller. And you’re mine, too. Take me. I want to fe
el you inside. Make me forget all the bad things I’ve seen.”
Cato slowly dropped to his knees and placed her gently on a mound of thick grasses. She immediately smiled, spread her arms above her head, and arched her back.
“I love the grass. It has such a pretty color and it loves to vibrate and caress my skin.”
Stretched out alongside her body, Cato reached up and clasped her delicate wrists with one hand and ran the other across her breasts and down the curve of her hip.
“I can understand that. I want nothing more than to touch every inch of your body.” He flipped the mating necklace over his shoulder and ignored the cold mineral laying heavy against his heated back. Reaching down, he palmed her knee. “Open up for me, baby. I need to see if you’re ready for me. I can’t wait much longer.”
When her leg fell aside, he moved his hand to her mound and moaned at the slickness that met his fingers. Slipping two inside the fiery hotness, he captured her mouth the instant she gasped. He drank in her moans of pleasure as he swirled his fingers inside and brought them back out to circle her extended clit. He released her mouth and kissed his way to her delicate ear.
“You’re sopping wet for me. I want to taste you, but I can’t wait. I’ve wanted this for way too long.”
Her words burst forward on panted breath. “I’m yours, storyteller. Do your worst.”
Cato pushed her gently to her back and lifted up on one arm. Gathering more of her juices with his fingers, he grasped his throbbing cock and slicked the burning flesh. Tilting his hips, he placed the purplish head against her opening and pushed inside. Her wanton cry had his ball sac lifting tight. “Damn, baby. You feel so good. I’m barely in. Relax, sweetness. I don’t want to hurt you.” He felt her thighs slide against his hips and her pelvis tilt forward and roll. He slid in another inch and bit his lip to keep from spilling into her. She was blistering hot and pulsating. Her gaze was languid and sensual as she stroked his arms and dug her nails into his flesh. Fighting for control, he slowly sawed in and out and inched further inside as her cream continued to coat his hard flesh. She panted out her need.
Fueled by Lust: Cato (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 7