by Lyra Shanti
“Me?”
“Well, no, not you,” she said, followed by a small cough. “But it's a man who looks like you… kind of.”
“Like me? How?”
Sam started feeling ridiculous. I sound like a weirdo! Crap. He's gonna think I'm coming on to him. Wait. Am I? I have no idea!
“Um… he has your eyes,” she continued, “and your…”
Jon grinned. “My what?”
His smile made Sam smile too. “I don't know! He has your whole vibe, I guess.”
“What's my vibe?” he asked, still grinning.
“Okay, quit it,” she said, giving him a playful push to his side. “If you're not gonna take this seriously, then forget it.”
“No, no, I am!” he protested. “I'm just a little stunned, actually.”
“About what?”
“The fact that we've had such similar dreams. Except, I don't see myself. I see a warrior and, strangely enough, a priest with…”
“White hair,” they said simultaneously, giving each other goosebumps.
Chapter 7: The Blessing
L ying in bed, his body felt warm, sticky, and restless. Spring had just passed and summer was upon them, and Sa couldn't sleep. He opened his eyes and looked at the radiant moonlight as it poured into his room, bathing him in its penetrating glow.
He felt spied on, as if the white dragon itself was watching, tempting, awakening the deep, unbridled lust in his soul.
I can't! Sa yelled in his mind as he turned over and grabbed the back of his head. The denial only made his frustration grow. Flashes of the warrior in his guest room flickered in his mind. He wondered if Gan was having trouble sleeping as well.
Darting up, Sa flung on his white robe and paced in his room. He grabbed his fan and attempted to cool his aching mind and body. The fluctuating air soothed his face, but he still felt hot and twitchy.
I will check on him, he told himself. I just want to make sure he hasn't scratched or torn my stitching.
Sa walked through the dark of the temple, with only the moonlight guiding his movement. His heart beat faster as he approached the room of his guest.
Gan was fast asleep on his bed, his right arm raised above his head and angled to the left. His chest was exposed, protruding beneath a silky white cover, and he appeared to be deep in dream.
Sa swallowed down his urges. I cannot touch him. He is not for me.
Resolved, he turned to leave.
"Please… no," a voice mumbled in the dark.
Sa turned back around and saw Gan twitching while shaking his head. His eyes were closed, and Sa concluded that his beautiful guest was merely dreaming.
Sa moved closer to see if Gan's wound still remained closed. Luckily, the stitching hadn't ruptured with the way Gan struggled in his sleep.
Poor man, thought Sa. All he knows is conflict and survival. Sighing, he found himself sitting at Gan's side. He wanted to stroke the warrior's forehead, calming his mind, if he could.
Silently, Sa began to pray. The white dragon was awake. He was listening. Sa could feel it. Let this weary man find peace. Let him find… truth.
Gan moaned, reacting not to Sa, but to his own mind. His deep, throaty voice quickly ignited a fire within Sa's stomach, making the priest want to touch the sleeping warrior's bare chest. It was muscular, rounded and smooth, and Sa wanted to feel the curves with his fingertips.
His fingers twitched as he fought back his desire. This is not allowed. I must stop, he scolded himself. And yet, his fingers moved, almost of their own accord.
Gently tracing Gan's neckline, Sa's breathing quickened, and his heart raced. He'd never seen anything or anyone so radiant.
His fingers followed downward as he outlined the warrior's pectoral flesh. Sa's face flushed, and he felt an intense tugging sensation in his groin. Living all alone by the mountains, he'd never known such desire. It was foreign, and yet, purely intoxicating.
I must have him, another part of his mind suddenly demanded—it was the white dragon's voice. But he will be gone by the morning. He will leave and never return. In a sudden rush of impatience and need, Sa flung off his robe, then gracefully straddled the object of his lust. I must have him! The white dragon in his mind was now at the forefront, pulling at the reigns of his desire.
Without Sa realizing it, Gan had been watching him. He blinked, then whispered, "What are you doing, Master Sa? Why are you here?"
Why indeed, thought Sa. He could have said he was praying for Gan's soul, but that wasn't entirely true. He was there to simply look at him. It was almost a compulsion.
"I'm here to give you the white dragon's blessing. Will you receive it?"
Ga raised his brow and swallowed. Sa didn't wait for an answer before his hips began to move. He felt Gan harden underneath his own aching shaft.
Tilting his head back, Gan let out a slow, deep moan. Sa took this as a sign; his warrior felt the same, at least physically.
Soon, Gan matched his movements, sliding against each other, wet and stiff with hunger.
"I… need…" Gan barely muttered.
Sa hushed him with a finger to his lips. "I am here."
Not knowing what to do or how far to take his lust, Sa hesitated for a moment. He gazed at the beautiful man with black hair and dark blue eyes. He absorbed his manly visage into his mind and soul.
Without warning, Sa felt his bottom raise slightly above Gan's swollen length. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he ached with need. He placed his hands on Gan's broad, smooth chest, and then closed his eyes. Gliding against Gan's slippery tip, he felt himself slowly ease the warrior's length inside. It was deep, burning, and then finally, utterly fulfilling.
Rising and lowering again and again, Sa could feel Gan's sudden explosion as it reached far back into the unknown place in Sa's pleasure. It had been there all along, though he had never imagined such intensity.
As they both erupted, Sa gazed at his beautiful warrior. He dug his nails into Gan's chest and simply said, "You're mine."
Chapter 8: The Dance
G an couldn't believe what was happening. His heart raced as his body responded to the priest in uncontrollable lust.
Despite having just reached a climax, he found himself needing to thrust inside his white-haired god again and again.
"What are you doing to me?" Gan moaned.
A smile formed on Sa's face as he continued to move his hips on top of Gan's lap, taking the warrior's impressive length, as if it was as easy and warm as the healing hot spring outside.
"I told you," Sa whispered sensually. "I am giving you my blessing."
Gan moaned in euphoric pleasure. Surprisingly, it was the greatest bliss he'd ever felt, even compared to his beautiful, but departed wife.
"Are you saying you're the white dragon itself?" Gan asked in a low, teasing voice.
Sa leaned down to his warrior's mouth and softly kissed his lips. "No," he replied, "but I carry his spirit." Giving him another, more passionate kiss, Sa continued to move on Gan's shaft in a slow, circular motion.
"Ah," Gan let out. He didn't know how much longer he could go on without needing to explode once again. He wondered how such pleasure was possible, and from a man.
Sa smiled. "And you, my gorgeous one, you carry the black dragon. We are the dark and the light, the yin and yang of the universe."
Gan moaned as he listened to Sa speak. Caught up in the feeling of Sa's body and in the lyrical magic of his words, Gan climaxed once again, this time even stronger.
Sa quivered and shook his bottom, arching his back. Gan watched in awe as his glorious priest let go a waterfall of white, hot liquid onto Gan's stomach and chest. It felt warm and good, but it made Gan nervous. Had he just been claimed? And had he been claimed by a man who thinks he's the white dragon? If so, what would that mean?
Fear suddenly gripped Gan's mind as Sa slowly lifted off him. He felt a mix of joy and sorrow. Part of him wanted Sa to stay and love him forever. The other part wanted n
othing more to do with this mad priest.
Sa's brow knotted, as if reading Gan's mind. "It's too much for you, I know. You're not ready yet. I am sorry. I will leave."
Sa reached for his robe, which had fallen to the floor, then wrapped it around him. "Sleep soundly, my beautiful black dragon. I will dream of you until the morning." And with that, he glided out of Gan's room.
For a few moments, Gan couldn't move or even think. He lay still, unable to fathom the monumental and incredibly sexual event that had just taken place. Finally, he looked at his lower half and gave a small laugh. He was a mess… inside and out, body and soul.
Can this strange and beautiful priest save me? Am I worth saving?
Images of battle and death filled his mind as he shed long suppressed tears. They were tears of loss, but also of release. Soon, a giant wave of sleep washed over him, and he began dreaming of dragons as they gracefully danced in the realm of the stars.
Chapter 9: Breakfast
I n the darkness of early morning, Sam woke with a jolt. She didn't know why, but she had the urge to call out for… someone.
What was I dreaming?
Images poured into her mind: the moonlit hall, the trees swaying in the wind, and his eyes… those deep, blue, penetrating eyes.
In a flash, she remembered the feel of him between her legs and his warm, muscular chest breathing in and out as she held it firm.
Wait… she thought. What the hell? In my dream, was I that… priest? Great, I'm having gay sex dreams now.
Laughing at herself, she got up and nearly tripped on the lamp nearby. It was a beautiful, red and gold Chinese lamp, but located too closely to the side of the bed. Navigating the darkness, and after such an intense dream, Sam felt entirely uncoordinated.
Managing to find the bathroom, she yawned and sat on the toilet. After relieving herself, she wiped, then focused on what she had dreamt.
It was that white-haired priest again. Damn it. Why do I keep having dreams about him? And why did it feel like it was actually me? I saw through his eyes… and even felt his…
She looked down, then reached between her legs and felt a gooey sensation with her fingers. Are you kidding me? she mused, silently laughing at herself.
She toyed with the idea of making herself climax before starting the day, but she knew she only had about an hour before the Great Wall tour group was set to meet in the lobby. She seemed to have slept through her alarm, which had been set to go off at 4 am. It was now 5, and she didn't want to be late. No time for pleasure.
Just then, the warrior's eyes flashed in her mind, begging her to touch herself. "Oh, geez, fine," she whispered to herself, swiftly stroking her wetness.
Out of nowhere, Sam heard a loud knock at the door. Physically needing to finish what she'd started, she decided to ignore whoever was at the door. Reaching her plateau, she bit her lip and imagined the warrior's blue eyes and strong, smooth chest. She quivered with desire, and then exploded. She was surprised at how fast it happened. She never took that quick to climax. What is with these crazy dreams?
Again, the loud knocking occurred, and Sam had the urge to yell at whoever was to blame. She threw on a hotel-provided robe and opened the door, ready for a fight.
"I'm so sorry," said Jon, breathless and dressed in a red dragon-embossed, silk robe. "I hope I didn't wake you, Samantha, but… we need to talk. May I come in?"
Speechless, Sam nodded and opened the door.
~~
Walking inside her room, Jon felt extremely embarrassed, but he couldn't keep this to himself. He needed to know if she'd had the same dream as he, or something like it. She had told him the night before about the white-haired priest, and after such an intensely sexual dream, he couldn't calm down. Were they linked somehow, or was this hotel cursed? He had to know!
"I dreamt about the priest guy again," he blurted.
Sam stood motionless. He waited for a reaction, but none came.
"Did you dream about it again too?"
Sam gave a nervous smile and shrugged.
"I… experienced it like never before," he continued, unsure how much to tell her. "This time, I almost felt it… like I was actually there. And I remember things the priest told me, I mean, the wounded man he healed."
"You felt it? You felt the feelings of the warrior guy?"
Jon nodded, inwardly blushing.
"What did the priest tell you, I mean… him?"
Jon paced a little, then said, "He told me we were yin and yang, the dark and light of the universe."
Sam's jaw nearly fell to the floor, which made Jon nervous. "What? What is it?" he asked.
"That's… almost exactly what he said in my dream as well."
Jon shook his head. "What the hell is going on between us, Samantha?"
"Sam."
"Huh?"
"Sam. Just call me Sam. I never liked Samantha. And honestly, I don't know what's going on. All I know is I need coffee to deal with it. Want room service? I need coffee… and eggs… and maybe toast."
"Yeah," Jon slowly replied, "coffee would be good."
Sam got on her room's phone and began ordering food. Jon wasn't all that hungry, but coffee sounded like a good idea. His brain was a fuzzy mess.
When he'd first awakened, he was stiff as a tree. He couldn't stop thinking about the way the white-haired priest looked in the moonlight: his graceful, arched back and his beautiful face. The sensations made him burst in less than a few minutes. And after that, all he could think about was seeing the woman who shared his recurring dreams, to try to make sense of it together. He hadn't eaten or even showered.
Feeling silly and impolite for his intrusion, he insisted on paying for the room service.
"Okay, sure," said Sam. "Listen, I really need to quickly shower and get on something else besides just this robe."
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Jon blurted, turning away, as if it would help at this point.
Sam gave a small laugh and said, "It's fine. Just… pay the order when it gets here, okay?"
"Yes, of course," said Jon. As he watched Sam head toward the bathroom and then shut the door, he began to berate himself. Where was his usual calm, cool charm? He knew where it was: back in that damned temple!
He decided to relax as much as he could. He sat on the floor and assumed his meditational position. Breathing deep and slow, he hummed out, "Ommmmm." It helped… at least until he heard her singing in the shower. It sounded like "Come Sail Away" by Styx. He always adored that song. Damn, she's so cool.
He had no idea why they were dreaming the same dreams, but he hoped it was for a good reason. Feeling calmer, he sat on her bed. It was all ruffled up from her sleep. She seemed like a rough sleeper, and a messy one. Her pajama pants were lying there, as well as her panties, which immediately made him aroused.
No, you've had enough, he silently told his lower region. Unfortunately, his libido seemed to be in control. Without planning it, his hand was now picking up her underwear. It had little frogs on them. It was ridiculously adorable. Jon had never gotten an erection from frog panties before, but it happened nonetheless.
He wanted to sniff them. What am I, twelve?
Feeling utterly stupid, he put the panties down and tried to act normal. He crossed his legs and took a deep breath. It's just the dumb dream getting to me, he thought. Nothing more. She's cute and all, but come on, I haven't even been with a girl since Zhong Xi drama academy. Plus, she's not my type… or is she?
The hardness under his robe seemed to answer as it pulsated and throbbed. He was just about to grab hold of the growing beast to try and wrestle some sense into it when he heard a knock at the door. "Damn it."
Calming himself, he stood up and answered the door. After the room service rolled in, Jon told the delivery man to charge his room instead of Sam's. The man agreed, and Jon closed the door, then inspected the carafe of coffee, tea, and two plates of pork, eggs, and Japanese style fluffy pancakes topped with fruit and cream. It smelle
d amazing. He assumed the hotel had found out his favorite foods and was trying to impress. It was working.
Pouring a cup of coffee, he was unprepared to see Sam exiting the bathroom in a towel. She rushed to her suitcase and got out a t-shirt and jeans, then ran back into the bathroom.
He smiled and loudly said, "Hurry up, my dear, or I'll eat all this yummy food myself."
"What?!"'
He laughed and repeated himself even louder.