Rowan – Two weeks later
Looking around the room, Caelan asked, “Are we dreaming?”
“Yes,” I responded, my voice husky.
“But where is your cave? Your safe space?”
I surveyed the room I had conjured. It was the same as the one we slept in, but I had added some little romantic touches here and there.
Fairy lights, similar to those I had in my room when I was a girl, hung from the bed frame, their gentle illumination spilling onto the bed.
On the dresser, a collection of candles flickered softly, their gentle flames casting silent whispers of intimacy into the room as their light danced across the walls.
“I don’t need it anymore. I’m safe here, wherever you are.”
His gaze softened, but then, with a wicked glint in his eye, he said, “I was kind of getting used to it, though.”
The room around us changed immediately to my cave, once my only source of solace and safety, a cavern of endless shadows.
A flame flickered to life within the solitary lantern I created, and the entire atmosphere underwent a dramatic shift.
Stone walls took shape, now glistening with a mesmerising brilliance akin to polished onyx, reflecting and refracting the soft glow emanating from the lamp.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“Hmm,” he said, “let me try.”
An instant later our bed materialised behind me, draped with sleek black satin sheets that harmonised with the onyx walls. His grin was mischievous as he snapped his fingers, conjuring slim silver ribbons that fastened to the bedframe, culminating in fur-lined cuffs.
I raised an eyebrow, but he only grinned. “I may have liked being tied down and want to do it with you. If you’ll let me?”
I bit my lip, secretly turned on, but gave him a shrug as if nonplussed.
“What else?” he said, tapping his lip. Fairy lights came to life, strung up where the ceiling would have been, and I looked closer, expecting to see Solarflies, but they were modern-day electric ones, twinkling inside glass bulbs just like the ones I had strung to my dream bed.
“You’ve been taking note,” I said, amused.
It was his turn to shrug. “Oh, one last thing,” he said, and with another click of his fingers, my clothes fell away, and I was left standing before him, naked except for a G-string.
One I hadn’t seen in many years. It dawned on me then; he had been intruding in my dreams for far longer than I realised.
On my feet, I wore stilettos, also from years past, but I knew they did wonderful things to my legs and arse. With a coy smile, I turned, swaying my hips to give him a glimpse.
The look that came to his eye had my heart speeding up, and I suddenly felt very much the prey to his predator. Without warning, he pounced, and I squealed as we tumbled onto the bed, but I was soon lost in intoxicating sensations as his lips met mine.
I couldn’t get enough of him. “I love you,” I whispered, staring into his eyes. The look he gave back caused my toes to curl.
“I love you more,” he said huskily, and I couldn’t deny him.
Sitting back on his heels, he looked at me lying there beneath him, naked except for the thin lace covering the junction of my thighs.
He still had that wicked glint in his eye.
“Just because I assume – no, I know you are dying in anticipation…”
He clicked his fingers, and his own clothes disappeared. I rolled my eyes at his theatrics, but then caught sight of his heavy cock jutting out from between his legs, and could focus on nothing else. My mouth watered.
“See something you want, lass?” he growled.
I did. I really did.
I swallowed, an entirely different sort of anticipation in mind.
He stroked himself. Hard. From base to tip, squeezing his head between his finger and thumb.
Beads of moisture gathered there, and I watched as one dribbled down his crown.
I wanted nothing more than to stop its descent with my tongue, but when I leant forward, I was held back by those fur-lined cuffs, now affixed to my wrists.
I gave them a little tug before looking back at him.
The desire in his eyes, the way he looked at me as if I were his world, caused a fire inside that I could not put out.
And didn’t want to.
“Here’s the rules of the game,” he said in a sultry voice. “The first one to break and beg for the other’s touch loses.”
“What do I get if I win?” I asked, entirely too turned on for this game.
He thought for a moment. “Multiple orgasms?”
I laughed; I’d get that even if I lost. “Deal.”
He returned to stroking his cock, and the noises he made as he rubbed his hand back and forth while watching me from beneath his lashes had hunger pounding through me. I nearly begged him to let me loose, but I refused to give in.
“Not tempted yet?” he asked, his hand continuing its back-and-forth motion. I bit my tongue to stop the words, shaking my head.
He leant over, his arms on either side of my chest, his cock just barely missing my stomach, and I arched my back trying to reach it.
“All you have to do is say the words and I will touch you,” he whispered, before blowing on my nipples.
They pebbled almost painfully, and I groaned low in my throat, watching him now through half-lidded eyes.
He sat back on his heels and stroked himself again, a wicked smile on his face.
A phantom breeze blew across my chest, its icy fingers stroking my nipples to even harder peaks. I moaned at the touch.
“That’s cheating,” I said huskily.
“Maybe, but I haven’t touched you.” He smiled cheekily as those invisible tendrils trailed down my waist, now warm fingers akin to his own.
I started to pant – to mew – knowing where they were headed. I knew I could break the ties at any time, but I also secretly enjoyed the feeling of being held down. But only by him. Only ever by him.
When his ghostly touch reached the lace of my underwear, it pressed into me through the material, and I whimpered as it moved in a circular motion.
“Caelan,” I panted.
“Yes, little bird?” He raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. He was enjoying this far too much.
“You do realise I am the Dream Weaver, right?”
His eyes widened and then rolled back in his head when the sensation of an invisible, moist, warm mouth sucked his cock deep.
Two could play this game.
He let out a yelp when my invisible teeth lightly grazed the underside of his stem, and when I took his balls in my spectral hand and lightly squeezed, he broke, snapping the sides of my G-string and plunging himself inside of me until he was buried deep.
Game, set, and match.
“I won,” I gasped, as he started to move.
“From where I’m kneeling right now, it would appear I am the one who won,” he said. “But, because I play fair, let me give you your prize, little bird.”
He thrust harder, and I groaned at the heat in his velvet voice. At the feel of him plunging deep within. At the swell of those emotions as they broke apart inside of me.
And when that wave crested, taking me over the edge, he was there too, riding it with me.