“And it’s real?” I asked again, needing to know if I was somehow trapped in my mind.
He grabbed me by the waist, yanked me to him, and pressed his mouth to mine.
A zing of energy zapped through my system, my eyes widening at the unexpected power.
Then his tongue parted my lips, forcing me to feel him. To see him. To be with him.
I wrapped my arms around his neck to better align our bodies and allowed him to ravage me with his mouth.
This, I thought. This is real. So, so, so real.
“Mate,” I whispered, recognizing the fervor burning between us. “I need you.”
He walked me backward into the tree. I glanced around, shocked by our new surroundings of wood and leaves. A secret house with windows that overlooked our meadow.
“What is this?”
“Our place,” he whispered, continuing to walk me backward. “I enchanted it just for you.”
His lips met mine once more, drowning me in sensation and lust and yearning. I moaned, needing this more than I needed to breathe.
We’d yet to truly explore each other, all the dreams leading to a few orgasms that he usually inspired without even really touching me. At least not with his hands or mouth.
Well, sometimes with his hands and mouth.
But it didn’t count. They were fantasies of the mind.
This was real.
Our bodies touching, the mattress meeting my back as he pushed me onto the bed, his groin settling between my splayed thighs.
Yes, yes. This was my ultimate craving, the forbidden yearning I hated to admit. He was the one who tricked me into this entire mess, the one to bite me without permission, and while I should hate him, deep down I couldn’t.
Because I felt connected to him.
That connection was what drew me out of my nightmare and into our dream meadow. Then he’d pulled me into this house. Oh, how I adored this house! Flowers scented the air. Fresh cypress trees, too. And, mmm, something very sweet like chocolate.
“C
ookies,” he whispered against my neck, his hands roaming up my sides. “They’re cookies.”
I must have spoken that out loud, and I couldn’t bring myself to care. “I need you.”
“I know,” he said, his lips tracing a path up to my ear. “I need you, too.”
“Will you bite me?” I asked, arching my neck backward in invitation. I barely even recognized myself, this wanton energy flowing through me and captivating my every move. Yet, it felt entirely right. I wanted him inside me in all ways. “I missed you,” I realized out loud. “Please don’t leave without telling me again.”
Who am I? Who is speaking these words?
Oh, who cares!
I felt high on life, our bond thriving inside me and pulsating with an intense craving.
Shade kissed me instead of answering, his tongue sparring beautifully with mine. My blouse fell apart, his hand ripping it from me in an eagerness to expose my breasts. I followed his unspoken suggestion and tried to tear his own shirt off, but I lacked the finesse required to mimic the movement.
He chuckled against my throat, then went up to his knees and began the tedious task of unbuttoning his dress shirt. I went up onto my elbows to enjoy the show as he displayed his tanned torso one slow inch at a time.
He truly was a work of art, his lithe form lean and strong, his muscles flexing as he removed the fabric from his shoulders and arms. I admired his alluring display and eyed the trail of dark hair that led to the button of his dress pants. He flicked it open and drew down the zipper while I watched, his intentions clear.