***
ALLIE
Wren’s body is greedy as he pushes into me over and over, and his mouth is hungry and demanding, owning everything I can give him. But he pulls out, teasing me as he backs away with his glorious body. I arch my hips in submission as he binds me and does whatever he wants while wearing his mask over his eyes.
He taunts me with dark promises, using my name to punctuate each dirty phrase, and pushes me up onto my knees. He pops the side of ass with a black leather riding crop. After he bends and runs his tongue over the stinging mark, he pounds into me once again, and my world explodes around him, shattering me into oblivion.
His name comes out in a prayer-like praise, and my whole body goes limp as pleasure racks through my every nerve.
I smile when my eyes flutter open, but then my eyes widen in horror when I see a blushing Wren under me, doing all he can not to laugh. I take in the fact I’m straddling his leg very firmly, and there’s no doubt that I just had a very real and very loud orgasm.
“OhmyGod,” I say in a rush, trying to dive off of him, but tumbling to the floor like an ungraceful idiot instead, landing on my hands and knees… just like my dream.
I. Could. Die.
He laughs while rising up, shifting when his very large bulge comes into view.
“You… I… Did I… on you?” I stammer, my voice a shrill and annoying pitch.
His laughter grows louder as he uses his hand to adjust himself in his jeans. Why did I have to see that?
“Yes you did—on my leg, actually. Must have been one hell of a dream,” he teases, arching one eyebrow to accentuate his amusement.
I lurch toward the bathroom, scrambling there on my hands and knees, and slam the door. It takes me a while to stand when I start shaking with humiliation. I just… Oh damn. I just used real Wren’s leg as a surrogate for dream Wren’s big, glorious, hard—
“Allie, open up,” real Wren says through his chuckles. “Please. Don’t let this be weird. I was trying to wake you up before you… well, before you came, but I think saying your name only made it worse.”
Oh no. No. No. No! This can’t really be happening right now.
He’s still laughing. That asshole. He’s enjoying the fact that I’m never leaving my house again, let alone facing him.
My name. I groan when I realize real Wren was the voice of dream Wren. No wonder it was so frigging perfect. The best dream ever was just sullied by reality.
“You said my name, so I have to know what you were dreaming.”
My face pales in horror as he laughs harder, and I get a little dizzy. I’m going to have to quit work, move towns, buy a fake identity—
“Allie, come on. Let’s nip this in the ass.”
I grow even paler. Did I tell him what I was dreaming while I was dreaming? Or is that just a coincidental use of words?
Oh fuck me! Please let it be a coincidence.
“Allie, please. I swear we’ll never mention it again, but considering I was just a weapon of your pleasure, I’d at least like a few details.”
“Stop enjoying this,” I groan, only prompting him to laugh harder. “And stop being so loud. Our daughter… Oh shit. I’ve got to get Angel to school.”
Oh, no. She might have heard me. Or worse… saw me. I swallow down the painful knot in my throat as my mind scurries to try to come up with some feasible lie to tell her, but Wren puts me out of my misery before I craft a very in-depth story.
“Bella already took her. It’s just you, me and the bathroom door. Oh, and your dream, of course.”
I glance around, curious if I could squeeze my ass out the tiny half window of the bathroom. I’d probably get stuck like some cartoon character, then Wren would have to rescue me, and all this would be worse.
“You suck,” I grumble, glaring at the door once again.
“Is that what I was doing?” he asks, too damn amused.
Sucking, biting, licking… working me over with that riding crop… Shit! I really need him to shut up. I’m never, ever, ever reading one of those damn books again.
“We’re not talking about this if I come out,” I tell him, sounding a little too hopeful.
He snickers softly while knocking again. “Come out. I’ll try not to mention it.”
He did not have to say come like that. Jerk.
“Trying isn’t good enough.”
“Fine,” he says through a small laugh, not sounding convincing at all. “Mum’s the word.”
Cautiously, I open the door to see the smiling asshole leaning against the jamb. His arms are crossed over his impressive chest, and small scratches mar his otherwise flawless, tan skin.