Page 5

I was drowning in heat and fur and pleasure.

The dream had started slow, teasing, lulling me into its grip like warm honey pooling in the sun. Now I floated in it, my senses heightened to every touch, every brush of his fur against my skin, every rumbling purr that vibrated from his massive chest into mine.

This wasn’t my first dream of Zehn, but it was the most vivid. The most real. I could smell him—that intoxicating mix of wild spice and something earthy that made my blood sing. My fingers twitched with the need to touch, to explore.

So I did.

He let me.

I ran my hands over the tawny suede of his belly, marveling at the texture—soft yet firm, the ridges of his abdominal muscles shifting under my touch. His chest was massive, a broad, muscled plane dusted with fine golden fur that felt like silk against my fingertips.

“This ...” I whispered, trailing my hands lower, feeling every defined ripple. “This is very unfair.”

He rumbled—a sound that was pure male amusement, vibrating through his ribs. “What is unfair, kitten?”

I flattened my palms against his stomach, reveling in the sheer size of him. “That you get to be this hot.”

The laugh that rumbled from him was wicked, his fangs glinting as he grinned up at me. His eyes—liquid gold with vertical pupils—tracked my every movement with predatory focus, though he remained still beneath my exploring hands.

I had never been petite—at 5’7”, I’d always been tall and strong, solid enough that no one had ever called me delicate.

But compared to him?

I was tiny.

Even in this so-called “base form,” he was still a beast of a man, his golden-striped body sprawled beneath me, nearly seven feet of muscle and sin and purring arrogance.

“The larger form you saw before is my battle form,” he murmured, his massive hands spanning my hips, thumbs brushing the dip of my waist. “This is my true form.”

I smirked, dragging my nails lightly over his chest, watching his abdominal muscles tense in response.

“This is still really big.”

His tail wrapped around my waist, tight and possessive, pulling me flush against him as he arched his hips upward, grinding his cock against me in a way that made my breath catch.

I swallowed hard.

Yup.

Definitely really big.

I shifted, straddling him, the thick, silken heat of him nudging at my entrance, teasing, tempting. I was already slick, ready, my body knowing what it wanted even as my mind still struggled to process the reality of him.

His golden eyes burned, watching me, letting me take control.

So I did.

I sank down slowly, feeling him stretch me inch by achingly perfect inch, the fullness stealing my breath. My thighs trembled with the effort of restraint, of wanting to take all of him at once but knowing I needed time.

His grip tightened on my hips, his claws pricking the skin just enough to remind me who was really in control here.

He groaned, low and guttural, his muscles tensing beneath me as he filled me completely.

“Stars, kitten,” he growled, his voice ragged. “You feel...”

He hissed, his tail tightening. “So good.”

I rolled my hips, and he snarled, his fingers digging into my skin.

His control was cracking.

And it was intoxicating.

I braced my hands on his chest, lifting, lowering, setting a pace that had us both shaking. The drag of him inside me sent sparks shooting up my spine, pleasure coiling tight in my core.

His breath turned ragged, his grip hard, his cock pulsing inside me, his tail flexing around my waist as if trying to hold me still. But I wouldn’t be controlled—not in this dream, not in this moment. I wanted to watch him come apart beneath me.

I grinned down at him, delirious with power.

“I thought you were supposed to be the big bad?” I teased, tightening around him, squeezing deliberately.

His eyes went wild.

And then?—

He bit me.

Sharp teeth sank into my shoulder, not painful, but possessive, his growl rolling through me as pleasure detonated behind my eyes.

I came instantly, gasping, trembling, the shock of it making me arch hard against him. The waves of ecstasy crashed through me, my body clenching around his length as I cried out his name.

He followed with a roar, his body locking beneath me, his hands tight on my hips as he spilled inside me. I could feel each pulse, each throb, each hot spurt as he filled me.

I collapsed against his chest, panting.

His arms came around me, holding me close, his purring deep and satisfied. One large hand stroked up and down my spine, soothing, claiming. His tail remained wrapped around me, as if even in satisfaction he couldn’t bear to let me go.

The warmth coiled around us, and I sighed, utterly wrecked, utterly content.

Until I woke up.

I was mid-swoon when reality slammed into me.

My eyes flew open to darkness, but the heat—the heat was real.

Scorching. Overwhelming. Heat pooled low and urgent, my hips grinding instinctively against something big, hard, and very real.

I froze, my brain frantically reconnecting to my body, trying to make sense of where the dream ended and reality began.

A heartbeat passed.

And then I realized?—

Oh my god.

I was grinding against Zehn.

In real life.

On top of him.

My legs tangled with his, my body pressed against his, the imprint of his dream-touch still burning under my skin.

His chest was just as broad as it had been in my dream, his fur just as soft against my bare skin.

The reality of it crashed over me—I was sprawled on top of a massive alien warrior, my body still throbbing with need for him.

I yelped, scrambling back—except his arms were already wrapped around me, holding me securely. One large palm splayed across my lower back, keeping me pressed against him.

He rumbled, his voice thick with sleep and amusement.

“Easy, kitten,” he purred, pulling me closer, not letting me flee. “You are safe.”

I trembled, still aching, still needy, still reeling from the dream that had felt so vivid, so real. The evidence of my arousal was embarrassingly obvious, my body slick and ready against his.

He felt it.

He knew.

And he helped.

He soothed me, rocked against me, his warmth deliberate, controlled, devastating. His hand slid between us, finding the place where I needed him most. His touch was expert, precise—not fumbling or hesitant. As if he knew exactly how I liked to be touched.

Because he did.

Because of the dream we had shared.

I shattered all over again, his purr chasing me through the aftershocks. My face buried against his neck, my teeth sinking into his shoulder to muffle my cries as pleasure overwhelmed me.

I slumped against him, shaky, breathless, boneless.

I tried for words. Failed spectacularly.

“...How,” I finally rasped, “did we just share the same dream?”

His large hand cupped my shoulder, rubbing the exact place he had bitten me in the dream.

The skin was smooth, unbroken?—

But I still felt it.

I swallowed hard, pushing up enough to see his face in the dim light. His features were the same as they had been in my dream—the sharp feline angles, the golden eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness, the hint of fangs when he smiled.

Zehn’s golden eyes burned, something fierce and claiming in his gaze.

“Because you are mine,” he said simply. “The universe has gifted you to me. To cherish. To protect. To love.”

I stared at him.

My brain refused to compute.

That was not how reality worked.

I was a number cruncher.

I dealt with facts, data, probabilities.

Not soulmate magic sex dreams.

And yet?—

He was so sure. So certain. His conviction radiated from him like heat from a sun. There was no doubt in his eyes, no hesitation in his touch.

I wasn’t sure of anything—except for the way he looked at me.

As if I was the most precious thing in the entire galaxy.

As if he would tear apart stars with his bare hands if they threatened me.

I opened my mouth to argue, to demand a more scientific explanation, to insist that shared dreams were a neurological impossibility.

He pulled me close and kissed me instead.

It was slow, careful, his tongue tentatively brushing against my lips, waiting.

I opened for him.

Because hot damn, he felt good.

Because his taste—wild spice and something primal—made everything else seem inconsequential.

He rumbled in approval, deepening the kiss, his hand cupping my jaw, his thumb stroking my cheek.

And every nerve ending lit up.

I moaned, throwing my arms around him, sinking into the heat and hunger and need. My logical brain surrendered to the reality my body already accepted—whatever this was, it felt right.

Then—

He stiffened.

The air shifted.

His ears flicked, his nose twitching.

His entire body went rigid beneath me, transforming from my passionate lover to a predator in an instant.

Danger.

I had seen enough thriller movies to know not to make a sound when the big bad was lurking nearby.

Except—

I looked at Zehn.

At the way his body flexed, at the way he shifted into something bigger, sharper, deadlier. His muscles bulged, fur bristling, claws extending from his fingertips. His eyes narrowed to predatory slits, scanning the darkness around us.

And I realized?—

It was a good thing I had my own big bad.

Whatever lurked out there in the darkness, Zehn was more terrifying.

His nose skimmed my cheek, his tongue flicking out to taste my skin. A silent promise—I will come back for you.

Then—

He slapped a kiss to my forehead and melted into the night.

Not a sound. Not even the rustling of fabric. One moment he was there, solid and real beneath me, and the next gone—leaving only the lingering warmth of his body and the scent of wild spice on my skin.

I held my breath, waiting, listening, every nerve ending suddenly attuned to the darkness around me.

And I hoped—with every cell in my body—that whatever had caught Zehn’s attention would never know what hit it.