“You need a cupcake,” I said forcefully.
The dream had been way too real. I almost expected to turn over and have Beck lying next to me.
But he wasn’t.
“Chocolate will definitely make everything better. And maybe some seltzer,” I decided, stumbling through the dark to the kitchen.
I grabbed two cupcakes and put them on a plate then poured a glass of sparkling mineral water and sat on the couch.
Unfortunately, the cupcakes weren’t cutting it.
I didn’t want chocolate. I wanted sex.
I kept thinking about the last time I had sat on the couch, Beck shirtless, hovering over me, his hands moving up, up my thigh, closer and closer to my aching pussy.
I spread my legs, imagining him there.
I needed him. I rubbed one of my nipples through the thin T-shirt fabric, imagining it was him as I fingered myself through my soaking wet panties.
“Beck, I need you,” I whispered as one finger hooked under the edge of the lacy fabric.
“Need me how?”
Wow, I had really gotten good at this lucid dreaming thing.
“I need your cock,” I whimpered, opening my eyes slightly to see his gray ones staring back at me. I jumped and shrieked, but he grabbed me and silenced me with a kiss.
It was forceful and masculine. He smelled amazing, and his jaw was slightly stubbly against my skin. One of his large hands grabbed my hair, tipping my head back so he could take my mouth like I wanted him to take my body. It was way better than anything I had even fantasized about.
I moaned, straining against him, needing to feel him, needing his hands on me and his dick inside me.
His tongue slipped into my mouth as his other hand ran down my curves, briefly cupping my breast then going lower to trail circles on my thigh.
I whimpered, grabbing his bare shoulder, needing to feel him closer to me.
Beck drew back, and I gasped.
“I can’t believe,” he said, sounding way more collected than I was, “that you would rather sit here and stroke your pussy instead of coming to find me.”
“I was trying not to lead you on,” I said, mesmerized by his mouth.
“And yet,” he said, his fingers trailing tantalizingly close to my pussy, “you instead opted to make an erotic display on my sofa.”
“I got carried away,” I croaked, straining against him, my nipples brushing his bare chest through the thin T-shirt fabric. “But since you’re here, do you want to join me?”
He pushed me back against the sofa, and little whimpering noises came out of my mouth as I spread my legs for him. His tongue flicked out to taste my mouth.
Abruptly, he drew back.
“Actually,” he said, “I was going to go for a run.”
“After all that?” I asked, looking at him in shock.
“I want to make sure you’re good and ready.”
I reached between my legs. “I’m ready now, so since you don’t want to join me, maybe I’ll just take care of it myself.”
He moved and grabbed my wrist, forcing my arm up to pin it above my head. He kissed me hard.
