* * *
Reina had considered herself a lonely librarian in a small town that had lost all chance at any sort of romance like the books she faithfully tended to each day. However, things began to change as vivid, sinful dreams come to her at night, thrusting her into a new world full of gauzy lights and delicious, handsome men.
However, there is something ominous lurking beyond the beautiful dreams, something that strikes Reina with fear to her core. Determined to resist them, she finds herself embroiled in an otherworldly plot that she never could have foreseen.
Chapter One
I sighed drowsily, rubbing my eyes as I slid into bed. It had been an exceptionally long day at the library and I was utterly exhausted. It had felt like we had been slammed from every side, with donations coming from the local high school, secondhand shop and church. My entire day had been a frantic rush of processing, printing labels and getting as much done for the closing shift as I could.
“Stop that,” I hissed to myself as I snuggled under my covers. “No more work talk. Go to sleep.”
I didn’t need to tell myself twice. Sleep, luxurious and warm, slipped over my head and I dove down into it’s comforting hold.
*
I had always been a good sleeper, since I was a child. In fact, I had prided myself on it throughout all of college. Naturally, confusion began to rise in me after I felt myself waking up after what couldn’t be very long at all.
Slowly, my eyes slid open and I sat up, rubbing my eyes drowsily.
The bed I was in was not my own. It was a four poster, elaborate bed with a gossamer canopy above that diffused the gentle light shining down from the ceiling.
“Where am I?” I mused, looking around in wonder, my head still heavy with sleep.
“My home.”
My eyes slid to the door, just realizing it was open. How long it had been that way, I couldn’t be sure. But what I could be sure of was that the most gorgeous man that I had ever seen was standing in the open doorway, staring at me with an intense gaze.
He was tall, with a golden crown of pin-straight hair atop his head. His features were noble and refined, with a strong jaw that made my mind flood with impure thoughts of how it would feel against me. He wore only a pair of low, plasticine pants, the rest of his physique completely exposed to me.
And God he was delicious. Every inch of him was sculpted to perfection. Abs upon abs and muscles on muscles. He wasn’t bulky, or intimidating like certain bodybuilders. Simply cut from stone like Adonis made flesh.
“Who are you?” I asked breathlessly, my body thrumming with a strange sort of heat.
“Does it matter?” He asked, striding towards me. His voice was low and rumbling, sending shivers up my spine. Part of my mind was telling me that this was very strange and I should be asking a whole lot more questions, but I was much too attraction-drunk to think properly.
“I…I think I probably should.” But then he was less than a foot away from me. He gripped my wrist, placing my small, pale hand on his rock-hard musculature. How tiny I looked compared to him, and slender. He could probably break me without working up even the slightest amount of sweat.
And yet he didn’t.
Slowly, carefully, my fingers explored the landscape of his flesh. As I traced along the striations, I grew bolder, until I was almost pressed against him.
No words were spoken between us, and perhaps there should have been, but then he was pressing his lips to mine and gently tilting me backwards. I complied, my body alighting with wanton passion.
How long had it been since I had attention anything like this? I couldn’t say. It wasn’t like there was an abundance of sexual tension between myself and the elder ladies of the library.
His lips moved to my jaw, teeth just barely grazing the skin there, and all thoughts of the library staff fled from my head. My hands roved his body, trying to pull his only scrap of clothing from him.
It was only when I felt him fully lower himself onto me, his flesh salaciously burning into mine, that I realized I was completely naked. Normally I was much shyer about revealing my thin, geekish form to perfect strangers, but I found myself not caring in the slightest.
Then his hand found my center, fingers dancing cautiously, teasingly, around that sensitive junction hidden just between my legs. I gasped, allowing his lips to return to mine and his tongue to invade my mouth with vigor. I melted into his ministrations only to have pleasure strike through me like a lightning bolt as his fingers began to work on me.
Much of what happened after was a hazy, euphoria clouded mess of sighs and gasps. I had never been worked over so thoroughly and expertly. While I wouldn’t describe myself as a cold fish, I wasn’t a lover to be left panting and moaning and writhing under a lover.
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.
Wh
at 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 lifted, 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.
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