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twenty-two

Dreams & Reality

Jade

“Fuck, Cherry. Your pussy is soaked.” He groans, sucking my neck as his fingers slide in and out of me so fucking slowly. I pant as his thumb grazes my clit causing me to grip onto the sheet.

“Why must you torture me, baby?” I whisper as goosebumps litter my skin.

“You fucking love it. You’re a slut for it. Look at you. Laid out in my bed, begging to cum. Fuck, I love when you beg.” He moans, kissing down my chest to my nipples. Taking one into his mouth, he flicks his tongue as his thumb continues to graze my aching clit. I shiver at his dirty words.

“Mmm, but you love when I cum for you. Only you. Right, D’mitri?” I whimper as his fingers move faster inside my cunt.

“I do, Cherry. Especially on my cock baby. Do you want me to fuck this tight pussy?” he asks and I whine, panting like a whore as he continues to work my body over and over as he leaves a trail of wet kisses down my torso, not stopping until he’s hovering over my clit. Blowing on it, I moan loudly.

“Fuck, D. This is torture. I want to fucking cum so bad. Please let me cum.” I beg and he laughs, watching himself make my pussy drip.

“I wish you could see what I see. How your tight little cunt sucks my fingers, drenching them every time I thrust in and out. How needy your little clit is when it’s begging for attention.” He growls, adding a little bit of pressure.

“Please, baby. Let me cum.” I beg, but he shakes his head.

“You’re so gorgeous, Jade. All fucking mine.” He groans as he continues to milk my walls. Tightening around him, I roll my hips, chasing the friction I need. I’m so fucking close.

“Say it, Cherry. You. Are. Mine.” He demands thrusting another finger inside me. I cry out wanting nothing other than to cum. To show him how good he fucking makes me feel.

“I’m yours, D.” I whimper and he smiles as our eyes connect.

“I love you, Jade. Now cum for me.” He growls, applying pressure to my clit, thrusting faster. I tighten around him again and scream my release as my vision goes white and then…I’m thrusted awake.

Taking a deep breath, I look around the room not recognizing where I am. Nothing looks familiar. I’m hooked up to machines that are beeping loudly because my heart rate is erratic.

Where the fuck am I? Where’s D?

I know this isn’t a hospital, this place is much nicer. The bed I’m lying in is much more comfortable than a hospital one. I try to sit up but am immediately hit with nausea.

Looking over, I find a bucket and grabit from the table next to me, retching my guts into it. What the fuck?

Wiping my mouth, I glance around the space and notice a fireplace blazing in the far end of the room, opposite my bed, with a flat screen tv above the mantle. Floor to ceiling windows line the entire room with deep green drapes allowing only a little bit of sunlight to shine through. Where the fuck am I?

The door creaks open and a short old lady comes in with white hair tied back in a bun, her eyes widen at the sight of me as I take in her appearance. She doesn’t look like a nurse when she’s wearing a black dress with green overlays. Maybe she’s the housekeeper? I clear my throat as she comes over to me, not saying a word. She picks up the pitcher and pours water into a glass, handing it to me with a straw. She nods as I take it, bringing the straw to my lips. Her eyes widen as her hand comes up in a ‘slow down’ gesture. I take a sip of the water, letting the cold fluid coat my throat. That feels so fucking good.

Handing it back to her, I smile, “Thank you.” I rasp out, “Where am I?” I ask, my voice barely above a raspy whisperas I try to talk and she hands me back the glass, forcing me to take another sip. I do without hesitation, only to take a bigger gulp, feeling the cold liquid seep into my empty stomach. Handing it back to her again, she checks my vitals and I raise a brow. “Do you have a name? Can you tell me where I am?” I say, but she ignores me. What in the actual fuck?

I force the words out, getting frustrated, “Listen, I don’t do well with being ignored. I need answers, or I’m ripping this fucking IV out, and going in search of what I need.” I spit and her eyes widen in fear.

“No, no, Miss.” She says with an accent. Where do I know that accent from? The door opens again and my eyes collide with someone I never expected to see.

“Ciamar a tha thu a' faireachdainn an-diugh?" He asks, coming over to sit next to the bed and taking my hand into his.

What the fuck is going on?