Belle
The dream was erotic, sensual, and shocking. In it, Belle had never left the bar. She had continued kissing Blayze, biting his lip and licking off the drop of blood that appeared. The fire in his eyes turned to flames, and she enjoyed knowing it was caused by her. Ripping open his shirt, she let her tongue flick his right nipple. He growled and repeated, "Come home with me."
Instead, Belle let her hand slide provocatively between his legs, rubbing the swollen member she found there. "How about you come with me, cowboy? Let's set fire to the ladies' lounge."
Heat bounced off him, pushing back the crowd and giving them space to saunter through the center of the dance floor, untouched. Belle's hips swayed with a come and get me invitation. Blayze was happy to oblige. He grabbed her around the waist from behind, his hands full of breasts and his manhood tucked against her bottom. A throbbing began in her womanhood as desire built. She kicked open the lounge door with a boot-clad foot, uncaring who was inside that might be hit.
Rolling over in bed and moaning, she continued to dream. Blayze had set her on the counter in the empty lounge area, then locked the door from inside. His big hands worked the tank top out of her waistband and lifted it over her head. Her breasts were bare, the nipples distended and begging for his mouth to claim them. Lowering his head, Blayze lavished them with a warm, wet tongue. He closed his lips and tugged. The sensation sent waves of need to her center, arousal dampening her curls.
Belle's hands went to his belt buckle, undoing it and the button beneath. She eased the zipper over his huge erection, careful not to catch skin in its teeth. Blayze growled against her plump breast, declaring how much he liked her touch. She shoved his jeans down his hips, releasing the hard member and giving her access to his perfect, boot scooting booty. Pulling him closer, between her spread legs, she grasped his hardness and rubbed it over her bare stomach. The tip had a droplet on it, and she used her thumb to smear it over the slit. His manhood quivered with pleasure. Bolder now, she stroked the silky length from base to tip over and over. His lips were on her ear, moving toward her neck.
A buzzing noise disturbed her briefly, but she was too involved in the dream to understand what it was. Blayze was panting and begging her to go faster, his hips moving with the rhythm of her hands. His head fell back, his lips having left his mark on her neck. He roared, and dragon fire burned a hole in the ceiling, and he lost control. His seed spilled over her hands and stomach, warm and sticky. She milked every last drop.
Gazing into his eyes, she deliberately licked her hands, letting him watch as she drank his essence. The embers left in his eyes burst forth in new flames, renewing his needs. He popped open the snap of her jeans and tugged down the zipper as if it offended him. His fingers slid into the gap, beneath the lace and silk covering her core. He found the nub and pinched it gently, then rolled it between his fingers. Belle raised her hips and wrestled out of her jeans. She spread her legs wide, inviting Blayze to play. He impaled her with his middle finger while his thumb continued caressing the sensitive nub. She pushed against his hand with her pelvis, asking for more. He added a finger and moved deeper and faster. She was panting and writhing with ecstasy.
The COM link buzzed again. The dream disappeared, and Belle was left throbbing and unsatisfied. She wanted to shatter the screen in a fit of rage, but she couldn't. She had delivered the tiny object from the hidden surgery center into the hands of a very discreet friend who had no love for the CIA director. She had been waiting for his findings when she had fallen asleep. Afraid he might see the leftover desire in her face or notice her embarrassment over the erotic dream, she blocked his view of her before answering.
"What was it? Was it a microchip as I suspected?" she asked.
"Good morning to you too, Belle. A greeting and a face would be nice. I hate looking at a blank screen," the man replied.
"You would hate seeing my matted hair and unwashed sleep face more," she retorted. "Give me the news. Tell me we have something that exonerates the weredragons."
"Yes and no. It's like a microchip, but much more. Put in the right spot of a person's brain, it could control their actions. It can be filled with information and send signals at specific prearranged times, receive brainwaves and act according to its design, perhaps inhibiting certain ideas or bringing them to light. If necessary, its programming can be overridden remotely, changing everything."
"Mind control," Belle stated bluntly. "Does it have any biologic attached?"
"No, that's not possible. Besides, if it had, then you would be infected and so would I. Neither of us was careful when we handled it."
"What about the programming? Can you read it?" she probed.
"I'm still working on it. It's encoded. I'll let you know if I break it."
"You have to break it. Otherwise, the director is going to destroy the alliance and innocent weredragons."
"Are you certain the weredragons are innocent? Evidence seems to prove differently," the man replied.
"I'd bet my life on it," she replied. My heart too, she realized.
