Forced To Kill The Prince

by Hollie Hutchins

  And yet, I was. My breath was coming in short gasps and I could feel that blissful zenith approaching me.

  “I want you.” I moaned, clutching onto the beautiful golden angel posted above me. “Now.”

  And like the perfect gentleman, he complied, freeing himself from the confines of his synthetic pants and aligning himself with my entrance. For a moment, I had a flash of concern that I was doing the wrong thing and that none of this made sense, but it quickly faded as he pushed forward, joining us as one.

  There were no words for the ecstasy I felt. All I knew was that I had ascended regular old sex and was experiencing something truly spectacular. My toes curled with every move of the glorious man above me, rejoicing as his flesh slid against my own in an ancient dance. It was perfect in every sense of the word, and it wasn’t long before I felt that same beautiful, amazing exclamation point of pleasure surging towards me.

  Then it hit and my mind took a deep drive off the edge of sanity. I wanted to call out my lover’s name in pleasure, only to realize that I didn’t know what it was. So instead, I settled for a loud, heady moan as my body arched upward in a worshipping curve.

  The man above me let out his own bellow, and I felt him reach his end. Together, we collapsed back to the mattress, panting and spent.

  There were many things I wanted to do. To roll over and cuddle with the perfect specimen of masculinity. To ask him his name and what this place was. To give him a goodnight kiss. But instead, sleep overtook me just as quickly as it had before, and I drifted down into blissful nothingness.

  Chapter Two

  I sat up with a jolt, sure that only a few minutes had passed. But when I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and looked to the entirely too-bright screen, I saw that it was almost time for my alarm to go off.

  How was that possible? I felt like I had just closed my eyes.

  …and that dream? What was that about? My body still felt awash in afterglow, as if I really had taken a good roll in the hay. When I stretched, I felt wetness between my legs. Surprised, I reached down to feel that I was slick, like everything that happened in my dreams had been real.

  How unsettling.

  Obviously, it had been far too long since I’d had any sort of intimacy. But it wasn’t my fault. Between moving to my new apartment, plus our regional manager retiring, I had been swamped with work for what felt like a year of non-stop rushing. Every single day was a blur of getting things done, only to have just as high of a stack the next morning. And forget about weekends! On those she either slept or caught up on the copious amount of paperwork that the older ladies of the library staff couldn’t finish on their own.

  I sighed to myself. “Reina, you’re stop lollygagging and get to work.” With a shake of my head, I got to my feet and went about getting dressed. Dreams or not, I had real life to worry about.

  *

  Thwack!

  Pain bloomed in my head and I sat up with a jolt. Looking around, I realize I was sitting at my desk, and my forehead hurt because I had apparently drifted off while sitting up, causing my head to slam right onto my keyboard with no undue bit of force.

  “Ow…” I groaned, rubbing the tender skin there.

  What was going on? It wasn’t like me to fall asleep without warning. Or even to need much sleep. On a good week, I could live off four hours a night. Sure, I would be cranky as well on those days, and I would drop a few more books than I would normally, but I could still get things done.

  A near jaw-cracking yawn tore its way out of my mouth and I resigned myself to my fate. Maybe I was coming down with some sort of cold? That was probably the last thing I needed with the school year about to roll in. That meant a whole host of hormone-riddled preteens with research projects that probably had never actually been in a library before.

  I tried not to think about it and slid into my bed, the mattress caressing my body like an old lover that had been neglected for too long. Humming pleasantly, I set my glasses on the nightstand next to my cellphone and pulled me hair from the tight bun I always wore it in.

  It was impossible to resist the siren call of sleep and almost as soon as I shut off the lamp beside my bed, my eyes drifted closed and I slid under.

  …only to wake up a second later.

  “What the hell?” I murmured, looking around again.

  I was back in that same strange, dreamlike place. I think I recalled reading that having recurring dreams was a sign of stress, but this was a bit ridiculous. The sheer unlikelihood of me having a dream about being in the exact same place twice took away the drunken, listlessness that I had before. I felt more alert, more questioning.

  I stood slowly, sliding from the silken sheets and pushing the gossamer canopy out of my way. However, the moment I was on my feet, my head started to grow heavy and everything started to take on a shimmery aura of wonder.

  “Whoa…” I murmured to myself. I was vaguely reminded of the one time I had ‘experimented’ a bit at a party in college. Was I high? This felt like being high.

  I heard the sound of a door opening and looked to the spot where the blond man had been in my next dream. I’ll admit, I was excepting him, but there was someone else there entirely.

  “Who are you?” I murmured, taking a wary step back.

  If the blond man from before had been Adonis made flesh, this man was David. He had dark curls that framed his chiseled face. Cheekbones to die for sat under an intense gaze, one that went right through her like she was a windowpane.

  Once more I found myself growing warm, flushing with emotions and desires that didn’t make sense at all. “Who are you?” I repeated when he did not answer the first time.

  “Just a worshipper,” He nearly growled.

  Oh God, his voice hit me like it was tangible, the low masculine notes curling about me like a rope steadily enticing me forward. I had never been one of those salacious, confident types, preferring to keep to myself and never risk social humiliation by attempting to flirt with a stranger. But in the moment, with the gentle, gauzy light of the room with the faint scent of incense drifting through the air, I found myself so much less anxious than I normally was.

  “Worship who?” I asked, my mind feeling like it almost made the connection in what it was saying but falling just short.

  “You,” he continued, taking a step forward. In any other situation, I would have felt threatened by a stranger advancing towards me, but I could only feel something between detached curiosity and ardent arousal.

  “That sounds silly.” I said, my brain struggling to come up with the right words. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because you are the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.” He took another step forward. “I’ve seen how hard you work.” Another step. “How passionate you are about the things that matter to you.” Another step, until he was barely a breath from me. I could feel the heat rolling off his body and it enticed me, tempting me to come closer. To breathe in deep, to touch, to feel. “Any man across this entire galaxy with a modicum of sense would want to have you, and believe me,” He took my hand gently. It wasn’t an imprisoning grip; f I wanted to, I could have yanked away. But I didn’t want to, not at all. Instead, I let him guide me, until my fingers rest over his manhood. “I want you.

  My breath hitched at the contact. His body obviously wanted me so badly. How could that be? I was no movie star, or model. I was just me…

  And yet. Here he was, chiseled muscles, strong jaw and his lengths pressing ardently against my hand.

  Finally, I couldn’t resist the rushing in my veins or the need for him quickly spreading throughout my belly. Like a woman possessed, my fingers wrapped around him as best as I could through the plasticine fabric of his pants, and I closed the distance between us.

  “Then what are you waiting for?” I asked, wicked smile playing about my lips. This was a dream, after all, so I might as well have some fun.

  It was as if my words released a wild animal. Suddenly I was bodily lif
ted, lips crashing against my own. I laughed giddily, wrapping my legs around his strong middle. He felt right, there, crushed between my thighs while his hands gripped my cheeks.

  I wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, mouths moving hungrily against each other. Like we were the last people in the world and the only solace we could find was in each other. Eventually, she did feel their kiss break as his weight shifted and she was slowly delving backwards. Soft mattress, almost like a cloud, enveloped me. I let my legs relax, which only allowed the dark-haired man to position himself fully over me.

  Somehow, he was even more handsome from this position, if that was possible. Or maybe it was the sheer dominance and control he was exuding, posted as he was over her. He was so strong, she could feel it in his arms on either side of her. If he wanted to, he could no doubt crush her.

  But he didn’t want to, it seemed. Not by a long shot. Although there was an undeniable hunger radiating from him, he was still tender in his ministrations. Reverent event. I guess he wasn’t kidding about the whole worship part.

  His lips moved down my face, leaving a trail of desire down my neck then along the collar of my nightgown. With expert dexterity, he slid the thin straps off my shoulders, his tongue laving along the flesh there.

  Then, slowly, ever so agonizingly slowly, he rolled the piece of cloth downward, lavishing me with affection every time new skin was revealed. It seemed like forever, the attention driving me mad, until he finally pulled the lacey, silky fabric over my chest, letting it pool at my belly.

  I barely had time for a gasp before he took one of those dusky peaks in his mouth, bringing me to new heights of passion. My body felt like it was glowing with both heat and arousal, my blood rushing through my every cell with vigor.

  Everything was just so much more intense than real life. If this was what dream sex was always going to be like, then I was never going back to reality.

  Time got sort of funny, stretching and folding around the waves of pleasure churning in my belly. Just when I thought that the fire within me couldn’t burn any hotter, my new companion was pulling away.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but stopped dead when his hands went to his pants. His eyes locked with mine and I swear the most wicked smirk spread across his face as he pulled them down his hips.

  Not for the first time, my breath caught in my lungs as he was revealed in all his glory. He stood tall, proud and very much in need of me. Tentatively, my slightly trembling hand reached up for him. I wanted nothing more than to deftly explore his perfect form, for my fingertips to caress and learn everything that could possibly be known about that chiseled flesh.

  Then, he lowered himself onto me once more, aligning himself with my entrance.

  But he didn’t close the last of the distance. I tensed, waiting for him, needing him, wanting him with every fiber of my being. He seemed to be waiting for something, and it was only after several deep breaths, I realize he wanted me to tell him I was okay to continued.

  “Please,” I whispered, rising my hips to meet him.

  That seemed to be exactly what he wanted, because that crooked smile spread across his face once more and then he was pressing against me only the way a lover could.

  We moved against each other frantically, flesh against flesh. The sheets bunched underneath us, but we just kicked them off as they tried to become entangled in our limbs.

  I gasped breathlessly as the stranger thrust into me, vice-like grip bringing me to meet him again and again in a way that couldn’t feel more right. His tanned skin was slick with perspiration, standing in sharp contrast against my normally-alabaster complexion which had now flushed to a vibrant pink.

  The entire situation was so surreal. How had I gone from lamenting my workload at the library to being pinned under this strange, impossible man, my nightgown bunched at my waist. But surreal or not, dream or not, I couldn’t help the wanton moans fighting their way past my lips. Then again, I didn’t really need to be quiet, did I? That realization was a bit freeing, and I stopped trying to hold back my chorus of cries.

  My senses were growing more and more swamped by the second. Every single sensation was its own rapture, every movement was sinfully and addictively delicious; the heated rush of my mysterious partner’s breath as he moved against me, the feel of his muscles moving and bunching beneath my fingers as I held onto his frame like an anchor against the deluge of ecstasy, the way my body reveled in every moment.

  If my few friends could see me now, they wouldn’t believe it. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I believed it. Everything was just too perfect. The salt, the sweat, the lust. I couldn’t say the last time I had felt so completed, so dazzlingly desirable.

  Most of my previous lovers were either selfish, or just plain inexperienced. But this man, and whatever part of my subconscious that had created him, was full of fire and passion. His hips met my greedy ones forcefully, delicious friction nearly blinding me. How could one woman absorb so much pleasure in so short a time? I didn’t know, but I imagined I was going to have to find out.

  I pulled at his thick, dark curls, and he let out an appreciative growl. His response emboldened me, and I began to grow over confident in my position. I scratched at him, nails sliding against his flesh, and my teeth buried themselves in his shoulder. But he met every one of my challenges with his own bites or powerful surges of his hips.

  “You’re so damned perfect,” He groaned, one particularly strong thrust forcing my hips into the soft cushion of the mattress.

  Something about his words vibrated through me, and the next thing I knew, I could feel my end rushing towards me. It hit, twice as powerful as the previous night, and I could only scream out in jubilation.

  For a moment I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything. I existed only in a haze of blinding euphoria. I rode it for what seemed like forever, until finally I drifted downwards.

  The man was still grinding against me, practically in a frenzy after my climax around him. Less than a breath later, I felt him throb within me, then bury himself to the hit as he practically roared.

  My body was filled with warmth almost immediately, and I gasped at the sensation. His ending went much more quickly than mine had, and we both collapsed to the mattress, completely breathless.

  Just like before, I could feel sleep suddenly forcing itself onto me, rolling up my body like the world’s coziest, warmest blanket. But, unlike before, I found questions coming to the front of my mind. Questions that demanded answers more insistently than my brain demanded sleep.

  “Is any of this real?” I asked, rolling to him and taking his face in my hands. The amount of detail I saw there was uncanny. The faintest hint of stubble around his chin, a tiny, pale line on his forehead that looked like it might have once been a scar, but had long since faded, the way his eyes burred into my own.

  “You’re just dreaming,” He murmured, voice low and rumbling.

  “I don’t feel like I’m dreaming.” I took a deep breath. Everything was so real. The smell of the air, the smell of him, the feel of the sheets below me.

  “Shhh,” he soothed, brushing my hair out of my face. “Just relax. You’ve earned some rest.”

  I wanted to argue with him, and to ask more questions, but instead my eyelids slowly slid shut and I was swept off into the darkness yet again.

  Chapter Three

  I sighed as I stumbled into my door, exhaustion wreaking havoc with my body.

  “And of course, it had to rain today.” I grumbled, wringing out my hair on the welcome mat.

  Although I had slept for so long, I had still woken up exhausted, my body flushed like I had actually experienced my explicit dream. As much as I liked the little romps my minds were cooking up for me, I hated going through my day so tired and distracted. My mind kept flitting back to the dark-haired man and what he did to me. The way he looked at me. No one had ever looked at me like that, and even if it wasn’t real, it made me feel…

  S
pecial.

  I shook my head. Going to sleep so early had lost me too much time, so I needed to make sure I stayed up. Beelining straight towards my kitchen, I started up my automatic coffee maker and let it do its thing.

  And it if I was being honest, deep inside of me, I knew something about these sex dreams were wrong. I had spent hours and hours going over it in my mind, trying to reason out the strange feeling that what I was imagining was less fantasy and more reality. Maybe someone was drugging me and taking me to some kind of kinky sex dungeon?

  No, that didn’t make sense. Why would they return me to her bed every night? And how were they transporting me? Someone was going to notice strange men hauling off a woman in her nighty then returning her a few hours later.

  But still, the strong, irresistible urge to sleep was incredibly suspicious. And since I couldn’t figure it out, I was going to treat that as enemy number one. Besides, I hadn’t pulled an all nightery in forever. It would take me right back to college.

  The wonderful smell of brewing beans filled my modest apartment and it filled me with relief. Sure, my dreams were doing very strange things, and my sleep schedule was completely out of whack, but at least I could count on the delicious, caffeinated dependability of a good ol’ cup of joe.

  I busied myself with pulling paperwork from my work satchel and setting up my laptop until my coffee was done brewing, then poured myself a cup. As I mixed in my creamer, I felt sleep try to tug at me. While I normally liked to enjoy a mug over an hour or so, even as it lost its heat and turned lukewarm, I downed this cup in just a few gulps.

  “Ah,” I said, setting the mug back down. “That was refreshing.” I turned to go back to my work desk before hesitating. I stood there a moment, then turned back and poured myself another cup.

  Then I downed that too.

  In the end, I finished off the entire pot in about fifteen minutes, standing at my kitchen counter and chugging the coffee-creamer mixture until I was so full I might burst. I was going to have to pee like hell later, but at least now I would hopefully be able to stay up for more than an hour.