Page 47 of Sweet Dreams

“What if…I just–.”

His eyes were glowing now, the air around us shifting as if the power of the moment was pulling air towards us. A moment later, I realized it was. For all that Zaldi claimed he wasn’t a dream walker, he still knew how to feed into the power of arousal. Especially mine. The heat from his touch was sinking in, the pinpricks of delicious pain stemming from his hold on my waist. And then, at my throat, a trail of heat seemed to ignite. The place his tongue had traced. Fuck, because I remembered that tongue. I remembered the things he’d done and I…my knees quivered and I knew he could smell how wet I was.

Why was that even hotter?

“Zaldi,” I reached for his shoulders. “I know it’s big, but…”

His chuckle was pure male satisfaction, “It is…”

“I meant,” I swallowed hard, wishing I was in a place where I could rebuke his comment, but I wasn’t. Zaldi was making any conversation nearly impossible as he slowly raised one of his hands to his face, sniffing at the claws there. The same ones that had pricked my skin. “I meant, oh God, I meant…I want you, however I can get by without–.”

His tongue slipped out, impossibly long as it licked up the tiny droplet of blood at the edge of his claw. “You want me to get you ready?”

I nodded, my legs moving restlessly.

“Good girl,” that impossible tongue darted out again, leaning the other dark claw. “Now…get on your knees. Let me show you what it’s like to feel true need.”

My heart leaped in my chest, but before I could even doubt myself, I was doing it, folding to the ground, my hands splayed on my own thighs as I stared up at him. From this angle, he might as well have been a vengeful god, his ruby-toned skin glowing, stretched tight over muscles and veins that were popped and straining.

His cock was swollen, pressing against the fly of his pants. My hands were there in an instant, tracing the thick line of him. My mouth watered.

“Is this what you want? Me, right here, looking up at you, begging for you.?”

He looked down at me, his hair, swirling wildly on his face, and whatever wind this moment was creating. “You look beautiful like that,“ he said to me with a smirk. “But, that’s not exactly what I meant. “

In a flash, I was moving my knees pivoting in the warm summer grasses as I found myself on my hands and knees facing away from him now. I gasped my body automatically bowing under the pressure of his hands as he pressed my shoulders, low, low, low to the ground.

“This,” he said with rasp, “this is what I meant.”

I moaned into the grass, feeling the spike and slice of those blades as I curled my fingers into them, feeling the Earth under my hands, and the strange air swirling around us. And then, there was pressure, tugging his fingers at my waistband, and then below, pulling the fabric from me as if he was well practiced at the maneuver.

“I have been dreaming about this since the night we first met. Since I knew who you were, and since I knew who you would be.“

“Z,“ I whimpered against the grass again, my hips, moving rhythmically against his grip on them, loving the pen pricks of his claws as he held me in place.

“Behave yourself,” he said, with a growl, his hand tracing up the line of my spine, taking my shirt with it and exposing me inch by inch rib by rib until I knew he was watching the way my breathing fluttered and out of my body under his hands.

“Behave,” he repeated himself, “or else I’ll be forced to punish you.”

My entire body lit up with the sensation of his claws loosening and tracing patterns into my thighs. Then his grip changed, lifting me, tilting me, posing me to his heart's content and then his teeth were there; biting first into one cheek, and then the other. I was exposed completely to the light of this world and the exploration of his tongue.

“Punish me?”

“What do you think it would take?” Z breathed into the heat of me where I could feel myself wet and dripping for him. “Such a little brat.”

“I am not,“ I said back to him, trying to move my hips, so I could swing around to glare at him.

Instead, there was a sting across one side of my hips, the cheek that just had his teeth in it now burned with a delightful tingle. This time I really did gasp. “Did you just spank me?”

But Zaldi only held me more firmly, repositioning me until his tongue could dance across that burning handprint. A moment after, the magic in his saliva hit my bloodstream with a whip of pleasure making my head roll forward.

“I am yours, Lulu. Yours to command. Yours to rule, and occasionally, when needed, yours to submit to.”

I didn’t stop the roll of my hips as his clawed fingers traced a circle around my clit. Each word carefully articulated with a roll over the painfully sensitive nub. My hips were moving, pressing back against him before I knew what I was doing.

“Give me one,” Zaldi said with a huff, “And then, we’ll start working you up to taking this one.” In response to his words, he pressed his still clothed cock against my ass, the fabric rough against my sensitive skin.

“One?” I asked, my mouth hanging open as he again began to circle my clit with one hand, the other carefully massaging my ass with the other.