Page 82 of We Are Yours

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3 months later.

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“Mmm…” I groaned in my sleep.

“You feel so damn good,” Julius rasped against my ear, softly kissing down the side of my neck.

Am I dreaming?

I had to be dreaming, but it felt so real.

His lips felt as smooth as silk, making their way down to my chest. My breathing hitched when he slid his way back up to my mouth.

“Ask nicely and I’ll be generous,” he growled, biting my lower lip.

Gripping the back of my neck with his strong, warm hand, he held me in place, kissing me senseless. Deepening our kiss, he pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

My legs shook.

My stomach clenched.

My body quivered, tightened, and spasmed all at once.

It was forceful, urgent, demanding.

If this were a dream, I didn’t want to wake up.

I wanted this.

Needed this.

Him.

The way his tongue sinfully played with mine, causing a loud moan to escape my mouth.

“Open your legs for me…” In one sudden movement, he reached where I wanted him the most, and my hands fisted the sheets.

I gazed down at him through hooded eyes, while he stared up at me with a piercing green that tore into my soul.

My eyes closed, and my head fell back against the bed as he devoured me. He gripped the back of my thighs, rocking my hips against the pressure of his lips. His fingers dug into my hip bones, enjoying this as much as I was.

My body fell forward, and that was when I locked eyes with Caribbean blue.

In seconds, I came undone, screaming, “Kraven!”

I gasped, shooting straight up in Julius’s bed. “What the hell?” I breathed out, waking up from a dream.

Or is that a nightmare?

My body throbbed, mimicking the pounding of my heart. I shook off the sentiment, pulling off the wrestled sheets that I gripped and throwing them aside.

I took a deep breath, roughly yanking my hair away from my sweaty face.

“What the hell was that?” I repeated to myself as I crawled to the end of my bed, desperately needing to get up and take a long, cold shower.

Welcoming the frigid water as I stepped into the tub, I lay my forehead against the tile, hoping it’d wipe away the guilt I felt from something I couldn’t control. The fact that my subconscious betrayed me wasn’t lost on me. If anything, it made me pay more attention to it.