My fingers find slickness, heat, the swollen bundle of nerves that’s been screaming for attention despite my trying to ignore it.
I bite my lip hard to muffle the sound that tries to escape.
My hips twitch against Sarven’s thigh. He’s still behind me, still solid and warm, still wrapped around me like a living shield.
Oh God, is he awake? Can he feel this?
I freeze for half a second, listening.
His breathing is deep. Even. The purr is still there, steady and low.
Asleep, then.
Probably.
I should stop. I absolutely should stop.
But my body has other ideas.
My fingers circle, press, find the rhythm that the dream started, and I let my eyes fall shut again, chasing the ghost of his mouth on me.
In my mind, I’m still there. Still golden and warm and his. Still hearing his voice murmur praise in a language I shouldn’t understand.
The orgasm builds fast.
My thighs clench. My breath catches. My free hand fists in the scales of the tunic, knuckles tight.
And then it hits.
The release crashes through me like a wave, drowning out everything else. My whole body locks up, toes curling, back arching, and I see gold light flash behind my eyelids like someone turned on a spotlight inside my skull.
For one dizzying heartbeat, I swear I feel someone else’s pleasure tangled with mine.
Not my own echo.
Someone else’s.
Then it fades, and I’m left gasping quietly in the dark, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure it’s going to wake him.
The aftershocks ripple through me,softer now, gentler.
I lie very still, trying to catch my breath without making noise.
My hand is still between my thighs, fingers slick and trembling. I drag them away slowly, wiping them on the inside of the tunic where it won’t be obvious.
The satisfaction should feel good.
It doesn’t.
Because it wasn’thim. It was my hand and my imagination and a dream that felt more real than it had any right to.
And I’m still here, wrapped in his arms, with the ache only partially sated and the guilt starting to creep in.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I take a shaky breath and risk a glance over my shoulder.
Sarven is still behind me, eyes closed, face relaxed in sleep.
