“What is wrong with you today?” He scrutinizes me beneath him, his eyes probing. “Are you still mad at me? I told you it couldn’t be helped.”
“No.”
“What is it then? You’ve been giving me hell all morning.”
I gaze up at him for a few seconds before I dart my eyes away. “I might have had a dream.”
“This is about a dream,” he says in the same breath.
“I told you,” I sigh, pushing at his chest to no avail. “I’ve explained this. They
’re real for me.”
“But they aren’t real, Cecelia. And you can’t hold a dream against me.”
“Says you, and it felt real.” I can hear the ache in my own voice. “You locked me out of my own bedroom.”
“You had a dream that I locked you out of your bedroom, and you’re mad at me?”
“Yep.”
He narrows his eyes. “There’s more.”
“Nope, that’s the gist of it.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
He reaches between us, gripping my thigh and squeezes.
“S-s-stop. I c-can’t breathe inhaling all of this cinnamon. Get off me. I’m hungry.”
His fingers begin traveling to the hem of my sleep shorts before inching toward the promised land. “I can do this all day,” he assures, unflinching when I pinch his skin. “Tell me, what was I doing in this dream?”
“Non.” No.
“Non?” He leans in, darting his tongue along my bottom lip just as his finger faintly brushes over my clit. I moan, and he captures it, kissing me breathless as he sinks more of his weight onto me, pinning me to the grass.
“Damnit, man, you’re suffocating me.”
“Tell me, and I’ll set you free.”
“No.”
He resumes his touch, suckling my chest and teasing me without reservation.
“You’re a cruel and evil man,” I rasp out, digging my fingers into his scalp.
“Word of the day, soumission.” He muses as my hips buck due to his touch.
“Submission? Dream on, pal.”
“Have you forgotten already? One finger.” He licks a trail from my neck to my ear. “And I’m pretty sure that was a tear I licked off your temple.”
“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” He licks his finger in threat.
“Tobias,” I mewl, hearing the husk in my voice. “It was just a dream.”