And I have the feeling it will be soon.
But the death dream I just had is different. I dreamed of the end and past that. I know, in dream logic, that I had to be dead.
Because Death sounded likehim.The mystery dom from last night who claimed a hold on my psyche, and I’m afraid to find out what that means.
I flop onto my back, and my lingering dread dissipates. I’m alive and awake and covered in deliciously sore spots. Marks the dom left on my back.
Who was he? He knew my name. Not only that, he wanted me to know that he knew it. He might be someone I’ve scened with before, or someone I’ve met, someone from work. But I would’ve noticed his intense presence if I’d met someone like him before.
Inara,he said in that beautiful voice. He’s unlocked the deepest parts of me, the parts I’ve tried so long to hide.
My sex still throbs from the orgasm he gave me. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the touch of his flogger. His marks are like lingering kisses on my skin. It’s my favorite part after a scene, bearing the marks and bruises for days afterward. I admired them in the bathroom mirror last night, but now, they only make me feel like I’m missing something.
I’ve never allowed myself to scene with the same person twice, for their protection and mine.
But I want to scene with him again.
What would it be like to have a dom? Not just an anonymous top or someone to scene with. A real dom who would be a regular part of my life. Someone to hold me. Care for me. Touch me. . .
It’s been years since I’ve allowed anyone to touch me. I haven’t craved it until now. Until him. . .
I pride myself on never needing aftercare. I can take care of myself. But in the moments after he made me come, my skin throbbed with a new poison, a new need. He left marks deeper than the red flush on my skin.
Last night, I fell asleep feeling like someone was watching over me. A powerful, shadowy presence smiling down on me. And, in my dreams, I could hear a deep voice crooningLittle bird. . .
Even now, I sense him with me.
Have you ever wondered what it’d be like to let go? Let someone else take over?
The dom had given me what I wanted. He made my outsides hurt more than my insides. And then, he gave me what I needed. And now. . . I’m craving more.
But I can’t shake an unsettling feeling because the dom knew my name. How? Our encounter was supposed to be anonymous. Club Empire caters to the elite and operates on strict rules.
I don’t like it. He knows me, and I don’t know him. He has the advantage.
Maybe I can dig a little and find out who he is. I won’t misuse my detective’s badge, but I have other ways of investigating.
What am I thinking? What happened last night was a one-time thing.
No matter how much I long for more.
I rub my arms. I still can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched. It’s silly, but it makes me flee to the closet to get dressed. As I move about my townhouse, getting ready for the day, I can almost smell the dom’s sexy, woodsy cologne. I must be imagining it.
But as I leave for work, I can’t help but think that one way or another, I’ll be seeing the mysterious dom again.
* * *
Darling Inara,
Today marks the anniversary of the first time I saw you. It was so long ago, but I remember how blue the sky was, how crisp the air. You stepped out of the shadows and tilted your face to the sun, and the light illuminated your perfect face.
Then you felt me watching and stared into the shadows. Even then, you could see beyond what other people see. You could sense the darkness.
I’ve spent every waking moment hunting for details of you. I learned your name. Inara. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. It means many things, but then I discovered one form of your name means swallow. The bird. A beautiful and fragile creature, like you. Swallows fly vast distances, chasing the warmth of summer.
You have a much darker gift. You see the worst parts of people. You wish you could shut your eyes to it, but you can’t. So you do what you can to fix the world.
Your homing instinct is broken. And I fear I am the one who shattered it.
