Chapter Thirteen – Zeth
Chapter Thirteen
Zeth
I lie still inside Wren’s body. Her heart hammers against my awareness, her breathing shallow and quick. I can hear her counting in her mind.
I focus all my energy on keeping my thoughts contained and walled off from hers.
It takes enormous concentration to prevent my consciousness from bleeding into hers; it feels like holding my breath underwater.
Her embarrassment radiates through our connection despite my efforts not to sense it, and I hate that she feels this way. Again, I am the cause.
Slowly, her heartbeat steadies and her breathing deepens. I wait motionless until I’m certain she’s asleep. Only then do I allow myself to relax and let my guard down.
My thoughts flood in now that I can think freely.
The dream was real. I was there and I participated. I experienced everything.
I was sleeping when I was pulled into it and found myself standing outside the steamy shower.
The bathroom materialized around me, and I could see her shape through the frosted glass, her delicate silhouette and the curves of her breasts, waist and hips.
The steam was so thick that it blurred everything, making it dreamlike and surreal.
I heard her soft whimper, and I knew she was touching herself.
A prompt appeared in my head like a whispered invitation: join me.
They weren’t words exactly, more like a pull or a desire that reached out and wrapped around me.
This was her dream, initiated by her because she was the one who controlled this space in her mind.
But now that I was here, I had agency too.
I had two options. I could exit the dream, end it for both of us, and wake her up gently.
That would’ve been the right thing to do.
I’m her bodyguard who’s supposed to protect her and maintain boundaries.
Asleep, she was vulnerable and not in complete control.
Everything about the situation screamed that I should leave.
But I didn’t want to.
God, I didn’t want to.
I wanted to see her. Needed to see her. I wanted to see her naked body and what she was doing to herself. The need consumed me, overrode every logical thought, and I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself.
My hand reached for the shower door.
I pulled it open, and steam billowed out and engulfed me.
I stepped inside, and there she was, pressed against the tiles, one hand braced on the wall, the other between her legs, water cascading over her pale skin.
Her head turned, and her eyes met mine. There was no surprise in her expression, only want.
This was her dream. She’d summoned me here.
Silent prompts filled my head: touch me, hold me, take me.
They were images that poured from her mind into mine.
I moved without thinking, wrapped my arms around her from behind, and felt her wet skin against my chest and her ass pressed to my hips.
My cock was already hard, pressing against her lower back.
She arched back into me and guided my hands to her breasts.
Everything that followed came from her prompts. It was her directing me, and me happily obeying.
I bent her forward the way she wanted, with one hand on her hip and the other between her shoulder blades. She braced against the tiles. When I pushed inside her, the sensation nearly destroyed me.
Tight. She was so impossibly tight. Her pussy gripped me like a fist, her walls rippled around me as I moved, and every thrust sent pleasure cascading through both our bodies.
I could feel what she felt: the fullness, the stretch, and the friction.
I could also feel what I felt: the grip, the heat, her pussy taking me.
She moaned, and I felt the vibration of it.
I reached around to rub her clit, knowing she needed more stimulation.
I pounded into her, holding back so I wouldn’t hurt her, and she clenched around me, getting increasingly tighter.
When she came, her pussy spasmed around me. I felt her orgasm as if it were my own.
I didn’t come because that was when the dream began to fragment.
The scene faded, my arms were empty, and my aching cock glistened with her juices.
Not even this image lasted, because she woke up, and the next thing I knew, I was back in her body, listening to her heat pounding.
Her pussy still throbbed with aftershocks, and I felt the wetness soaking through her pajama pants.
I’d do anything to experience it in reality. Technically, we had sex, even if it was only in our minds.
Now that she’s falling asleep again, I remain still.
There’s no chance of me sleeping now, so I lie awake in the darkness inside her, counting the hours until morning, listening to her breathing and feeling her heartbeat.
I’m thinking about the shower and her body, knowing I can’t have any of it but unable to stop wanting it.
I feel guilty. I took advantage of her vulnerability, invaded her most private space, and participated in something I should have ended immediately.
But my desire drowns all that guilt because I want her so much.
Because I also admire her and respect her, and that can’t possibly be so wrong.
It’s not like I see her as an object. She’s everything to me right now, and that terrifies me as much as it exhilarates me.
First light comes through the curtains eventually. Wren stirs awake, and I feel her mind waking. She sighs and stretches.
Her mental voice is groggy.
“Good morning.”
I keep my tone neutral, careful not to reveal anything.
“Good morning.”
“I need to use the bathroom.” She pauses, then adds, “I know we’re supposed to stay merged all the time, but... I’m just not ready to use the bathroom with you in my body. Can you please unmerge?”
Her voice is apologetic and embarrassed. I don’t protest at all.
“Of course.”
I begin pouring out of her body, flowing down and out. Instead of reforming on the floor, I stay as a pool of black liquid on the bed and spread out across the sheets.
Wren sits up and stares at me.
“Why are you... like that?”
I form just a mouth in the liquid surface.
“Too lazy. Want to doze off for a bit.”
My voice comes out muffled and casual. I hope she doesn’t read too much into it.
Wren looks uncertain but accepts it, then gets up and goes into the bathroom and closes the door.
The second the door clicks shut, I reform into my humanoid shape.
My cock is out, hard and massive. It juts from between my thighs, thick and pulsing, and I sit on the edge of the bed and stare down at myself.
The head is dark and swollen, and it crosses my mind that I’ve never been this hard and needed release so desperately.
I wrap my hand around my shaft, and the simple touch sends electricity through me.
I start stroking myself fast because there’s no time to tease myself.
My cock pulses in my fist, hot and slick, and I think about Wren’s pussy, how tight it felt in the dream, how she clenched around me…
I wonder what it would feel like in reality.
Would she be even tighter? Wetter? Would her walls really ripple like that when she comes?
I stroke faster, my hand sliding up and down my length.
Pressure builds at the base of my spine and in my heavy balls.
I imagine being inside her for real, her body pinned under mine, her legs wrapped around me.
I want to fuck her the way she needs, making her come over and over until she can’t take it anymore.
I hear the toilet flush and realize she’s almost done. Panic and need collide, and I stroke twice more and come hard.
My seed spills across the floor in thick ropes, completely black, darker than my skin. It’s gooey and substantial, and it pools on the cheap carpet. It’s more than I expected, and it keeps coming in waves as my cock pulses with each spurt. The release is intense but not fully satisfying.
I still want more. I want her.
I hear the tap turn off in the bathroom.
She’s definitely coming out, so I stand quickly and step directly into the puddle of my own seed.
The moment my foot touches it, the substance gets absorbed back into my body.
By the time the bathroom door opens, I’m clean, my cock has retreated, and my crotch is nearly flat again. There’s no evidence of what I just did.
Wren comes out fully dressed. She looks at me standing by the bed, and I try to look normal, but I feel dazed. My thoughts are scattered and my body is humming with tiny aftershocks.
“Ready to merge again?” she asks. “We should go out like yesterday.”
I agree, still feeling off-balance.
I merge with her, and she doesn’t flinch like she used to. It makes me happy that she’s getting used to me and doesn’t need to close her eyes and go rigid when I enter her. Once inside, I focus on keeping my thoughts locked down.
We repeat yesterday’s routine: breakfast at the diner and visiting sketchy establishments. But I can barely pay attention to the mission. All my energy goes into keeping my thoughts guarded from hers, building walls in my mind, and maintaining barriers.
I can feel she’s doing the same thing. Her thoughts are unusually contained, but despite both our efforts, images slip through.
I see the shower, my hands on her body, my cock pushing inside her tightness…
I can’t tell if the images come from my mind or hers, but I suspect both of us are thinking about it constantly.
Every hour at least, her mind drifts back to the dream.
Each time, her body responds, heat pooling low and wetness gathering in her panties.