Page 76 of Dream in Darkness
She shifts forward, filling me more than I thought possible, and I realize she’s untying the blindfold as it slips from my face. The tent is dark, the only light a dim red. Tempest kisses down my spine, nipping and licking, and it sends goosebumps down my arms and legs.
She thrusts harder, picking up speed, and I feel like I’m flying as she pushes me to the edge of pleasure. Everything about this feels primal and instinctual, and I want her to bite me again.
I want her to bite me hard, and then I want to make her come. I’m enjoying this more than I believed I could, but I am desperate to touch her, taste her, and bring her as much pleasure as she’s brought me.
“Tempest,” I moan. My orgasm crashes like an ocean wave, sudden and strong. It pulls me under, sweeping me away in its current.
Skin is slick with sweat, my entire body shakes as she lowers me off the rig and unties the ropes.
Sometimes the best things start by closing your eyes and letting go,I think, but I don’t say anything, waiting to see what Tempest does next.
Once I’m untied, she kisses my forehead, and grabs a small tote that was hidden backstage. Unfolding a thick fabric, she slips a robe over my shoulders. It’s soft and plush, and I breathe in her scent.
I can see the way the actual straps fit around her body, squeezing her ass and thighs as she begins to unbuckle them, and it only makes me want her more. I reach for her, but she maneuvers out of reach.
Tempest shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“Butwhy?”
“I just can’t. I don’t want to.” She pinches the bridge of her nose.
I nod, completely respectful of that. “Okay.”
“No.No,” her voice cracks, her eyes watering, but she doesn’t let the tears fall. “I’m sorry. The problem is, Idowant to, but Ijust can’t afford to let anyone in right now. It’s a step further than I’m willing to take.”
“It’s okay, Tempest. I promise,” I say, my voice softer than I intend. “We should head back to our tent before someone catches us, anyway.”
We pack our things, clean up the big top, and walk next to one another through camp in uncomfortable silence until we reach our shared space. There’s a weird knot in my chest, but I try to ignore it. I’m completely fine with Tempest not wanting me to reciprocate, I just wish I understood her more.
If it were a physical thing, or a preference, I don’t think I’d think twice about it, but my mind keeps getting stuck in an endless loop of her words.
I just can’t afford to let anyone in right now.
So what is this, then? What are we if we can never be anything more than a farce?
I won’t pretend I understand the gravity of her side of things. She’s from a different species—practically a different world—and her traditions and expectations might differ so deeply from mine that any chance of anusseems impossible to her.
But right now, as I look down at my wrists and the faint cuffs of red blooming on my skin, as if it were painted in faint watercolor, I can’t imagine anythingexceptan us, and that terrifies me.
Walking into our tent, I climb into bed, and Tempest flicks off the lantern. I’m trying to fight back tears as everything threatens to consume me. The Legion’s recent assassination attempt, the conflict between our people, the fact that Baelor might be a predator.
My mind races, traveling down a hundred different paths. The expectation that I might become the new representative of the felion is exciting. It makes me proud, but it’s also a heavy weight on my back, threatening to take me out. The last hour felt like the ride of my life, but now I’m experiencing the drop. All the happy chemicals are leaving my brain, exhaustion and terror in their wake.
It feels like there’s a dagger in my hand and I’m trying to cut the rope to free myself from this anchor, but I’m not moving fast enough. I am underwater and I amdrowning.
“I’m scared,” I whisper in the dark.
There’s a beat of silence followed by the rustling of covers. “Come here.”
Slowly, as if I’m mistaken or maybe dreaming, I crawl into Tempest’s bed. She’s warm, her body heat comforting as my arm reaches over her chest.
“Don’t read too far into this, nuisance,” she says, and kisses my forehead. “Sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t?—”
“You can still call me that,princess.” I know she can’t see it, but I hope she can feel the smile that spreads across my cheeks.
Tempest draws shapes on my skin, starting at my wrist and moving up my body until her fingers dance on my shoulders and chest.
“Did you really hate me?” I ask, even though I know the truth will sting, but I want to hear it regardless. I need to.
