A sound from behind had her starting, and she whirled, her hand pressed to her breast.She stared at the man standing before her, swallowed, and gave a soft, pained groan.
Dreamscapes give hope, child.Her grandmother’s gentle voice poured into her mind, almost as if she were in the room, almost as if she hadn’t died cycles earlier.
Betrys sucked in a harsh breath, steeling herself against the shot of the guilt, the searing pain as she acknowledged the truth.She was pretty sure this dreamscape was a big, fat falsehood.
A nightmare.
“What are you doing here?”Leo Mitchell folded his arms across his naked chest.His lower half was garbed in tight black trews that displayed his flat midriff and the bulge of his manhood, but his feet were bare.Strong feet.Big feet.“I said, what are you doing here?”
Betrys frowned and lifted her chin.“I don’t know.”
“Fuck, I can’t even escape you in my dreams.”
She felt the furrow between her brows deepen as she cocked her head.“What do you dream of?”
“I dream of home,” he said.“I dream of running across the paddocks with my brothers and friends.I dream of my girlfriends.I dream of hot, kinky sex.”
Her breath caught, and somehow, the robe she’d worn during the journey here vanished, and she stood in front of him, naked.
She watched his gaze flicker up and down her body, linger at her breasts.Her best feature, according to her husband.
Leo prowled closer.He reached out with his right hand and smoothed his palm over her shoulder.His mouth twisted, and his attention shifted from her to glance at his groin.The growing erection indicated his interest, and he laughed.The sound held irony, a touch of disbelief.
“I haven’t had a hard-on since you signed me up to service Iseult.”
Betrys opened her mouth to refute his claims, then decided to remain silent.Nothing she said would change the truth.Both of them were ensnared in Iseult’s web and neither would emerge whole.
Fact.
“I’ll hate myself in the morning, but I might as well take advantage of the situation.”His gaze sought hers then, bright green like the orb that had led her here and full of mockery.“On your knees.”
Betrys wanted to protest.She wanted to rail at his disrespect and the way he was ruining a perfectly good dream.This moment was important, and he was sullying it by his attempt to subjugate her, make her less.
But look what you’ve done to him, her conscience whispered.
That decided her, and without haste, she knelt before him.“Wish your trews away.”
“What?”
“This is a dream.You control your thoughts.”Not quite the truth, because she didn’t understand how she’d ended up in a bedroom with the scene set to seduction.That made no sense at all.
His clothes dissolved as she watched, and his heavy erection spilled free.She glanced up to meet his green gaze.His expression held a dare, and something cracked inside her.
In that instant, she accepted her attraction to Leo, the hopelessness of it after what she’d done to him.But in this dream world, nothing could touch them because in the morning, they’d both wake in their sleep-beds on different planets.
She reached for him, noted the faint tremor of her hand, but kept going until her palm grazed his hip.
“Touch me.”
His daring tone told her he thought she’d balk, but she slid her fingers over his warm skin until she reached his groin.His cock twitched at her first touch, and she thought she heard a muted groan.With her confidence growing, she handled him with more assurance.She took his hard flesh in her hand and stroked.This time, his moan of pleasure wasn’t in doubt.His cock grew larger as she teased him and tightened her grip.
Betrys went up on her knees and guided his shaft to her mouth.She used her tongue to trace the tip.His salty flavor exploded across her taste buds as she took him deeper, the act making her feel strong and intrepid.One of his hands settled on her head, a heavy yet welcome weight because it meant he was responding.Her private fears that she repulsed him were untrue—at least on the dreamscape.
Beneath his cock, his balls tightened, and she massaged them, fascinated because her husband and their race had smaller gonads with much of the testicles hiding inside the body.More practical, it was true, yet this difference brought a new element to her explorations.Her busy hands investigated while she took him deeper.
His big frame trembled, yet he remained rock-solid on his feet.He groaned with each suck, each teasing sweep of her tongue, and his fingers tangled in her hair, his hands subtly guiding her to take him faster and deeper.
In this dream, there was no gagging, no apologies because she couldn’t do it right.On the dreamscape—at least this one—it seemed only pleasure existed.
