Page 11 of The Second Sight (Wanderlust Emporium Presents, Season One)
His hands moved to my shoulders, trailing down my arms with measured slowness.
Each point of contact left a trail of goosebumps.
My body responded to his touch with a heat that seemed to build from my core and outward.
This wasn’t real, I told myself. It was just a dream.
Just my subconscious processing the night’s events in the most unexpected way.
But it felt real. So real.
“You’re extraordinary,” he whispered, with his lips close to my ear. “Do you know that?”
His hands slid lower, finding the hem of my t-shirt and slipping his fingers beneath it. I should have stopped him. Should have pushed him away. Instead, I arched toward him. A soft sound escaped my throat as his fingers traced patterns on my stomach, my ribcage, and then higher still.
“So warm,” he groaned. “Like touching the sun.”
His mouth found my neck, and a new kind of fear spiked through me.
The fear was quickly replaced by a wave of pleasure as his lips pressed against my pulse point.
No bite. Not yet. Just the promise of it in the way his tongue traced my racing heartbeat.
Then the sensation of the slight scrape of his teeth against my sensitive skin.
“Seven,” I breathed, my hands finding his shoulders and pulling him closer to me.
He raised his head to look at me, and in the dreamy light of this night, his face was transformed into a hungry animal. He was still beautiful, still predatory, but with a vulnerability I hadn’t seen before.
“I’ve waited centuries for someone like you,” he said, with a voice rough with emotion.
His hands moved to my thighs, sliding upward with a confidence that spoke of experience. My body responded eagerly, shamefully and painfully. My dream-self was free from all the constraints that would have paralyzed me if I were awake. I pulled him closer, surprised by my own boldness.
When his mouth found mine, the kiss was foreign at first. Then the warmth of familiarity bloomed between us. His masterful tongue traced the seam of my lips, demanding entry. I opened up to him willingly. My desire overriding everything else.
He tasted like nothing I’d experienced before.
His tongue wasn’t sweet or bitter, but something intoxicating.
Like that Cowboy Carter lady claimed, I was drunk in love.
His weight settled over me. His body fit against mine like it was designed for that purpose.
One of his hands tangled in my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss while the other hand continued its exploration beneath my shirt.
“Give yourself to me,” he whispered against my lips.
I felt the sharp points of his fangs then, not breaking my skin but pressing just enough against my lower lip to remind me that he was no ordinary man. The danger should have quashed my desire. Instead, it ignited everything within me. Each burning sensation became almost painfully intense.
His hand moved higher on my thigh, and I gasped into his mouth. My body arched instinctively to meet his touch. Through the fabric of my wet panties, his fingers found me. Even in my dream, I blushed at how ready I was for him, and how quickly my body had betrayed my mind.
“Kasinda,” he murmured, as his mouth moved from my lips to my jaw and to my neck. His lips lingered at the place where my pulse thumped strongest. “You’re perfect.”
My hands clutched at his shoulders. My fingers clawed at his back. I felt every firm muscle move beneath my palms as he shifted above me. Our bodies moved together in my idyllic dreamworld. This was a place I could live in forever.
His fangs grazed my neck again, the sharp points pressing just enough to send sparks of pleasure radiating through my body. He didn’t break the skin. He didn’t drink from me. There was just the promise of a future possibility that seemed less frightening with every passing moment.
“Kasinda,” he sang my name again.
His body pressed more insistently against mine, the thin barriers of our clothing doing little to disguise his desire.
My legs parted for him without conscious thought.
I wrapped my legs around his hips to pull him closer.
But I knew there was another level of closeness that I desired more than any other.
“You are mine,” he whispered, his mouth hovering just above my neck. “As I am yours.”
Seven kissed the edge of my jaw before licking his way down to my neck. I felt the sharp points of his fangs graze my flesh. His fangs dug in, and he was on the verge of piercing skin—
And woke with a violent gasp, my body jerking upright in bed.
Sunlight, not moonlight, streamed through my curtains. Morning. My t-shirt was twisted around my waist, the sheets damp with sweat. My heart pounded like I’d been running a 5K, and my skin felt hypersensitive, flushed with blood and lingering desire.
“Oh, fuck!” I whispered to my empty room, my voice sounding strange and hoarse. “Just a dream.”
The physical evidence between my legs was undeniable. My body still hummed with sensations that felt too real, and too vivid to be imagined. I pressed my thighs together, embarrassed by the persistent ache between them. I wondered how my subconscious had transformed fear into desire so completely.
On my nightstand, the reading glasses caught the light.
They were more than readers. I stared at them, wondering what other truths they might reveal if I dared to put them on again.
I wondered what Seven would show me if I met him tonight at the Black Rose Café.
I knew myself, and I knew better. I didn’t run into danger.
I stayed away from it. If a dream felt that intense, reality had to be too much for me to handle.
I grabbed my cell phone off the nightstand and with a few taps on the screen…
BLOCKED!