Christa’s Obsession (Obsessions #3)

Chapter Six

Christa

The scent of peaches tickled Christa’s nose. She inhaled, fingers moving restlessly over the plush bed covers as vivid images filled her mind. She moaned at the heady scent of Wanda’s arousal.

Her dryad lay naked on a bed of leaves. Small branches teased pert breasts with pink, budded nipples. Pale, voluptuous thighs were parted, held open by larger branches, some of which stroked her inner thighs, leading Christa’s gaze to the triangle of soft brown curls that covered her mound.

Christa’s body tingled with desire, and a feeling of wetness stroking down her clit made her gasp. She kept her gaze on Wanda. Could not tear her eyes from the beautiful sight she made with her arousal glistening on the folds of her sex. A peach was plucked from a branch, held above her mound, and squeezed. The juice trickled down the folds of Wanda’s sex, but Christa felt it happen to her, too. It mixed with her own arousal.

Thighs parting, Christa arched up into the delight of the wet caress. Breathing deep, she could scent the sweetness, her mouth watering for a taste. The desire was there to follow the path the juice took over Wanda’s clit. Dip her tongue into the folds and taste, then return to suck the plump clit between her lips. Christa's grip tightened on the covers beneath her as the desire built in her core.

Her own thighs strained and shuddered with the need for more of those delicate touches against her skin. She unclenched her hand, moving to stroke at her core, feeling her own throbbing clit as she used her desire to tease herself as she dreamed—because it was a dream, it had to be—of what she would do as the trees watched them. Touched them. Bound them.

The thought sent her flying over the edge, her body shivering as her orgasm peeked and she woke with a start. She bolted upright, her hand still buried between her sticky thighs. Her skin damp from…

Air shuddered out of her lungs so fast she couldn’t draw it back in. The scent of sex and sweet fruit was thick in the air. Trembling at the possibilities, she pinched her arm to check she was awake. In the darkness, she could see nothing, yet if she shut her eyes, there was Wanda being pleasured by her trees.

Watch us, a soft, female voice encouraged .

She could not deny the demand, unsure how it was possible… unless she was in some sort of between space. Dreaming… yet not.

It didn’t feel like a dream with how her clit continued to tingle with aftershocks. She brought her hand from between her thighs and licked her own essence from her fingers. She tasted… peach. With a shaking hand, she reached for the lamp switch and flooded the room with light.

Uncovering her thighs, she shuddered. It’s not a dream.

It’s not a dream!

Her eyes closed, and there was Wanda once more, her rosy skin glowing in the confines of her tree. Her limbs trembled as her trees brought her to orgasm. As they had for Christa.

Holy fuck.

A shiver of pure desire ran through her. If not a dream, then what the heck was it?

Nothing felt right. The dreams were the only thing that felt real. The trees… they spoke to Christa. None of it made sense. None of it. Her body responded, even now, while she sat in a club.

It didn’t matter where she slept in her home in the human realm, the dreams—sleeping reality—followed her. Christa had tried to act like everything was fine when she really wasn’t. How could she be when her body begged for sleep so she could connect with Wanda and her trees?

Today, as a last resort, she had rung Luka, looking for a distraction from her body’s torments and the nasty ache inside her chest. It had become so bad, she was prepared to demand Wanda see her. Talk to her.

“What’s with you?” Luka asked from his position at the bar next to her. “You said you wanted to go out and have fun.” He eyed her closely. “You look like you did when I stole your last cherry popsicle when you were eight.”

They had come to Earth Space, the club that Christa had discovered Silas in and brought Dakata to. Somehow that one decision had ramifications for not only her brother, but her too.

“I’m not enjoying the band,” she finally said, having no desire to open up to Luka.

Dakata was the only one who would understand her problem.

But would he, when Silas had accepted him?

Go, talk to him. Ask him how we can make Wanda see we aren’t like the demons who took her. You know her trees accept us.

Of course we’re not like those demons. They were male, for starters!

Christa had a sudden thought. Was that part of the issue? She wasn’t male? Silas’s tree had male energy, she was sure, not that she’d touched it. Would Wanda’s trees be male or female? The voice she heard was female.

How do they feel when they touch you?

Christa actually felt her cheeks warm at the question and took a moment to consider her answer, despite the voice she’d heard. She didn’t admit that she had to think about it, that she hadn’t the wherewithal to focus on anything when the dreams happened. Wanda held most—all—of Christa’s attention when she looked stunning finding her pleasure.

Female energy. Yes, definitely.

Luka glanced back at the now empty stage, his brows drawing together in thought. “In my opinion, they were good. Not worthy of a contract, but pleasant enough to listen to.”

“Look at you being all music mogul.” She flicked her bangs away from her eyes, smiling at Luka, doing her best to act like she usually would.

“Shut up. I just know what I like. Anyway, your pouting has nothing to do with the band. Have you gotten dumped by your latest fiery flame?”

She aimed a hard, narrow-eyed stare at Luka that could shrivel a man’s balls to raisins. “First, I don’t pout and second, I have never gotten dumped by anyone in my entire life.”

Did being rejected by a blissful one count as getting dumped when they’d not gotten past a touch of fingers?

What about the trees?

Heat flooded a different part of her. Stop reminding me!

“Whatever you say, sweet cheeks,”—he came forward and tapped on her bottom lip—“but if this comes any further out, you’ll trip over it when you stand on those spiky heels of yours.”

Christa hated he was right and did the only thing a demon sister could do. She bit the offending finger, hard.

“Fuck!” Luka yanked his finger back, looking at the bleeding tip. “What you gotta do that for?” he whined, then sucked his finger into his mouth.

“’Cause no one loves a smart ass.” She wriggled off the seat and rose, paying no attention to the looks she was getting from men and women alike. “And as you aren’t entertaining me, I think it’s time I went home.”

He made a gasping noise. “What? You wanted me to entertain you. Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” he exclaimed dramatically.

She raised her middle finger and then sauntered off with a sexy sway to her hips, listening to Luka’s laughter follow her. Asshole.

Outside, she stood at the curb and debated whether going home was for the best. Her demon had other ideas, and a second later she found herself outside Silas’s front door.

You’re such a pain, you know that?

That may be so, but we need answers and I’m fed up with waiting.