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It was cold in my room when he walked in. I didn’t even lift my eyes from where they rested, staring out my window, nor turn to face him.
“You shouldn’t be here.” It went without saying, so why did I even bother? Because someone should say it. When we looked back on this, it might make us both feel better that someone had the courage to say it.
I know it is a dream. On some level, I always know. But it’s a fleeting thought and gone in a moment. It isn’t the first time we’ve crossed into one another’s minds, regardless of how far apart we’ve become. But there was a greater danger here than in the real world; it was harder to hide in my own mind.
My heart squeezed in pain but I refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing that I still craved him. If I could be certain my green eyes would convey only my hurt and fury, I would turn them on him and burn him with their heat. As it stands, the only heat I was certain of was the change in temperature around him as he walks closer.
“You’re an idiot if you think that coming to me here, when I am vulnerable, is going to make me think any better of you,” I tried to snap, but it’s a half-hearted effort. Does he know I missed him? Can he see me shaking? “You HURT me.”
“Yes.” No denial, no anger. That’s a fucking first, I think to myself, but it made it harder to hold onto the chunk of ice in my heart. “And you hurt me, too,” he added, but there wasn’t any blame in it, just acknowledgement of a simple fact.
“I didn’t mean to,” I whispered, and when his hand touched my shoulder above the strap of my nightgown, I could feel the heat of his body slide through my unnaturally chilled skin. “If you would have just LISTENED to me…”
But he didn’t, that angry little voice in the back of my mind reminded me. And that isn’t the only reason you left.
“You’re not well.”
“Am I ever?” It was dripping with self-loathing sarcasm. But it was honest. “But we don’t talk about that, because that would mean talking about things too close to—”
“I meant,” he interrupted, gently but firmly, turning me to face him. “You aren’t physically well and that is making everything else worse.” He tilted my face up, searching my eyes, as he had a million times before both in reality, and in my dreams where we stood now. It was a simple, commanding gesture, and I yielded to it instinctively. “When did you last feed?”
The reaction his words had on me was so immediate, so profound, so intimate, that I tore away, turning from him, tears welling up and clinging to my lower lashes. “None of your goddamn business!” I knew I’d struck a nerve, knew my words hurt. And I wanted to pretend I didn’t care, but great Goddess help me, I did. “It’s not your problem anymore,” I reminded him, choking a bit on my words.
“Send me away as often as you like, my love… you’ll always be my concern.”
It felt like a fist gripping my heart as I nearly doubled over in agony at the words. “Don’t call me that.” I gathered the tatters of my willpower and rage to me like a moth-eaten cloak and drew a deep breath and threw the only truth I could at him that might make him flee. “I am not yours. Not anymore. I gave you up. You have someone else and she loves you. She is better for you. She can’t hurt you the way that I can…”
I waited for him to leave. The stress of him so close, even if it was only in our minds, so achingly close, was drawing on every reserve I had and I could feel my walls cracking. I could feel the ice in my veins burning with a fury and I felt a swell of pity for the next person to cross my path once I woke. I prayed I could find a way to satisfy my need before anyone I cared for wandered into my arms. Because I knew I was about to break.
The terrifying thing was that the only person able to handle me when I was like this, other than my life mate, who wasn’t here at the moment, was this man. He was the only other one who had seen me this close to the edge of the abyss and not run. I had no idea if I could ever find that again. But for both our sakes, I had to try. Before I ended us both. Because, truly, if I hurt him irreparably, I could never forgive myself. And we had come so very, very close one too many times.
“Yes, you said you gave me up, that you were leaving,” he said in that same calm, level voice, like someone trying to talk a jumper off the ledge. I nodded in agreement and made another motion to the door, indicating the direction out of this room and out of my imaginary world. But, instead, he took that hand and entwined our fingers, tugging me to him, staring down into my wide, startled eyes with his blue gaze, the hint of a small smile on his lips. “I don’t recall saying I accepted it.”
“I don’t recall giving you the option,” I countered weakly, trying to ignore the fact that I could feel his warmth along the front of my body now, almost more seductive to me than the flesh caressing my palm, my inner wrist, and the curve of my arm as he drew me nearer.
Helpless. Why did he always pendik escort make me feel so helpless? In any other place, I knew I held enormous willpower and strength. But with him… it melted like so much snow on a warm beach. The way my body wanted to melt against his and absorb him; his touch, his heat, his essence, his very soul. I never knew which one of us truly held the power and it scared me.
“You’ll always be mine,” he whispered into my ear and my knees nearly buckled. I hadn’t the strength to keep fighting him, and we both knew it. I was, quite simply, too weak. But…
“You belong to someone else.” I said it firmly, to remind myself, mostly. “And so do I. And this… this is… there is no future here. And I am still angry and hurt and…” and my mouth was watering. And my pussy was wet. And my nipples were quite happily standing up and all but waving “hello” through my soft silk nightgown…
I felt the first hot tear spill down my right cheek. “Irrelevant. I am not using you for… for that. No matter how depleted I am.”
He brushed the tear away with his thumb across the soft pale skin of my cheek and smiled softly, a little sadly. “You have before.”
“That was different,” I said awkwardly, looking away. “We were… we were together. And… and you ordered me and I obeyed because…” I bit my lip. I couldn’t say those words aloud again. I couldn’t call him that again. It hurt too much. Because he would never me my Master again. “I don’t use my friends like that,” I said instead.
“You use your husband like that.” It wasn’t meant to be an indictment, but it felt like it.
“He’s different. He can handle it.”
“Can he? For how long?”
I was torn between screaming, slapping him for implying I would ever harm my mate, and wanting to rage at the plain truth of his words. “I am not your slave!” I managed to choke out instead.
“Not tonight. The only thing you’re a slave to tonight is your own need.” I didn’t remember raising a hand to smack him. Gods know I have wanted to a million times, but never in actuality would I have dreamed of raising a hand to him… and now I was, quite literally. But he caught my wrist easily, and I, being so much more petite in stature, was left standing there, panting, eyes wild and full of anger, impotently raging at someone I knew how to truly hurt, if I wanted, but couldn’t find it in me to truly take a verbal slash at.
But he regarded me without fear. He looked past the fury in my gaze, past the demon lingering in my mind, and gently drew me back to him. And it was that gentleness that undid me.
“We CAN’T,” I managed to whimper as tears fell fresh.
“Shh,” he soothed, his hand caressing my cheek as he tilted my face up and leaned down, his lips descending over mine.
The change is immediate. My body went from resistant to plaint and demanding in a millisecond. Where I was pulling from him or lashing out before, I now arched into his kiss, the sweep of his tongue, the hard press of his body, my arms becoming a pressurized cage around him, pressing his body to me.
The low groan of his desire was as familiar to me as the sound of his breath in my ear. Grasping, demanding hands roamed his body, seeking to leech his body heat into my own as I pushed him back into my bed and all but climbed over him, tearing off his clothing and laying his skin bare before me.
I expected the usual look of bewilderment that lovers give me when I lose control, followed by the post requisite fear, but instead my almost violent passion for skin to skin contact seemed to have only ignited the heat of his own passions. He didn’t even seem to notice the faint marks my nails left behind down his chest or that I’d already left behind a small mark on his throat with my teeth. I had a small moment of sane thought to be grateful this was the astral realm, and the likelihood he would manifest these marks in reality was slim to none, before the sanity faded and I regarded him beneath me, and for the first time, I didn’t want to be his yielding slave.
Even as I sat astride his waist, my mane wild and a tangled red riot down my spine, he raised a hand and cupped my left breast in his right hand, finding the delicate, hardened peak of my nipple and giving it a sharp pinch, causing me gasp and writhe my hips, his arousal chafing my most sensitive places, making me wetter.
“There’s my girl,” he said softly, watching my face as the motions of his hands move from my breasts down to my dripping pussy.
My eyes snapped open from their half descent of pleasure at his words and I grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the bed as I leaned my body over his. “No, I am not.” And I looked deeply into his eyes, letting him get a good look at me, perhaps for the first time in a long time. “I am NOT ‘your girl’. I am not your slave.” I captured his other wrist and held it to the bed, pressing my weight onto his arms. I knew if he really wanted to fight me, he could. But it would end this, and we would be more fractured than we escort pendik were before. And someone else would have to take his place… someone who may not be able to handle it.
My mouth sank down upon his and I kissed him as though I could drink his soul through his mouth alone. I wasn’t gentle, I was greedy, demanding, so far out of my mind with need my vision was nothing but a swirling vortex of cold hunger tinged by the fury I still held with him for ever raising a hand against me.
I wasn’t gentle as I slowly rubbed my still nightgown clad body across his. I even felt a sharp stab of satisfaction at the noise he made that was somewhere between lust and discomfort as I began slowly undulating my panty covered pussy across his hard cock underneath me.
I knew he wanted to grab me and throw me down, wrest control from me. But this was a delicate dance. This was something that had to happen. He could do it. He could do it in a heartbeat. That he didn’t made the red haze in my mind clear just a touch and I regarded him, almost suspiciously.
“Why?” I demanded, backing off his arms and moving myself away from him, forcing my starved brain to process. “Why are you here?”
A flurry of emotions passed over his face; frustration, sadness, anger, guilt, annoyance, need, desire, and finally settled on simple acceptance. “You needed me. I am always going to be here when you need me. Even if you’re too stubborn to call.”
“Hey, I am not the one…” I nearly launched into a storm of accusations but his look of amused commiseration made me pause. “I am not the only one,” I amended softly.
“Stop fighting me,” he said, holding a hand out to me. I wanted nothing more than to obey, but I couldn’t help but regard that offered limb like it will be my downfall. “Love… you can’t last like this. I can see it in your eyes.”
“It isn’t the same,” I responded softly and raised a hand into indicate our imagined surroundings. “This is just a dreamscape. What I take from you here is one tenth of what I need to stay sane and you know it. Moreover, we… we can’t… we can’t keep…” The pause for breath is almost a tiny hiccup.
“Hush.” He moved over to me, and kissed me softly, sweetly, holding my face gently to his, pulling me to him, my resistance a memory. It’s the gentleness that undid me completely as I let him lay me beneath him, too weak to even muster much more of an argument, all of my energetic resources having been expended resisting and then pouncing him earlier.
I am cold, so cold. My skin feels room temperature to the touch, but I can feel the chunk of ice that settled somewhere between my heart and my soul that has grown exponentially since I told him goodbye. He was right; I haven’t touched anyone. Not even my mate. I have been so wracked with pain and guilt I have barely even touched myself and the result was agonizing.
I was starving. I was weak. I was ill, but not in a conventional sense. I was heartsick and my mind loved to take advantage when I deprived myself like this. The demons I housed loved to use me and torment me. It took a firm hand to keep me under control. It was a task I had gladly given to him for a decade or longer. And even when I should have reminded myself it was time to find another who could help me share this burden, the thought slipped away as quickly as it came as he slid my panties from my body, and settled himself between my thighs, taking hold of my hips in his strong grip, and setting his mouth over me.
It wasn’t something he did often, if ever. It had not been something I’d been interested in for the longest time. But now… but now…
My body was arched halfway off the bed and I was crying out before I could process what was happening. My hands spasmed, becoming sharp taloned claws that gripped the bedding beneath me as his mouth ravaged my heated core and his tongue filled my wet cunt.
He had me cumming before I could even register that for once… he neither ordered me to nor chided me on doing so without permission. I tried to process the uniqueness but the fracturing of my senses wouldn’t allow me to hold onto any thought longer than a moment as his fingers slid inside me and curled against that place so few knew how to reach, causing a splash of wetness across his fingers, across the tongue that flicked my clit.
The scream the primal, guttural, a raw thing torn from my depths, and I could HEAR the sounds of my own wetness as he continued to fuck me with just his fingers, his hands now coated with the warm, gooey essence of my body.
When a finger slid inside my ass, it was enough to cause me to wail as I bucked and came harder than I had in some time, my body no longer my own, splashing evidence of my complete inability to control myself all over his hands, the bed, and my own thighs. He continued to worship me, play with me, torture and tease me until the clenching eased and I remembered to breathe after a reminder or three. He then slid his body beside mine, kissing me sweetly, the taste of me coating his tongue and lips. pendik escort bayan I kissed him back with all the love and affection I possessed, keenly aware this could well be the only time we were allowed this again, now that the edge was off just enough that I could think… a little.
The bulk of my thoughts centered around the fact that despite the amazingly delicious feel of my orgasms, I still felt empty… and hungry.
“Fuck me,” I managed to say, my eyes wide defenseless pools of need.
“No.” It would have been like a knife in the heart had he not kissed me again softly, gathered me to him like something precious, and wrapped my legs around his hips as he slid the length of himself along the sopping wet exterior of my cunt. “I am not going to fuck you. I want to make love to you.”
The tears that fell from my eyes rolled back across my temples and into my hair as he held himself above me, his hard, thick, always impressive shaft poised at my greedy entrance. His eyes never left mine as he sank deep into my core, all the way to the heart of me until I could feel him at the entrance of my womb.
He leaned down and kissed the tears away as he slowly stroked me, his mouth and hands roaming my body, worshipping every curve, dip, hollow, imperfection and gloriously sensitive erogenous zone. He gave me no orders, demanded nothing, asked not even for the smallest concession on my part save that I allow it.
When I came again, shuddering, the walls of my pussy clamping down like a velvet vice on his cock, a slow, demanding biological urge to drive him to spill inside me, I almost lost my senses completely, feeling the orgasm tug my soul from my body for a moment. I knew I needed his release to truly feed, but the pleasant floating feeling of cumming so much and so hard with such a perfectly fitted cock inside me made it impossible to focus. I could barely raise my arms to hold him to me as I shuddered and shook beneath him.
I could tell by his breathing I could push him to spill inside me here, now, like this, if I wanted. But I also recognized the gift he had given me and I knew I needed to offer one thing or I would forever regret it.
I reached up and drew him down for another soft, slow kiss, and finally whispered. “Make love to me where you want to.” His eyes widened a little, and for once I saw emotion truly shatter his gaze. “Make love to me… in your hole.”
“I thought you weren’t mine anymore,” he said thickly, not yet moving.
“Doesn’t matter how far I run. Some part of me will always be yours. Especially… especially that.”
It was my turn to wipe the tears away as he leaned forward and kissed me with more ferocity that he had allowed himself thus far. He snagged a pillow and gently eased it under me, raising my hips for a better angle, and then moved back between my spread thighs, still slick and damp with my own juices, as was he. But he slid himself into my pussy once more, to be sure he was well and truly coated before moving to the entrance of my tight, seldom used ass.
I was shaking. If you asked me why, I could never have voiced it. So much want, need, hunger, love, desire… so many things. And pain. Jesus, had we hurt one another so badly… and this… this was more than just sex, and we both knew it.
“Are you sure?” I knew it cost him something to pause and ask.
I managed a watery smile, and nodded once. “Please.”
He was so slow, so gentle, his eyes never leaving my face as he very slowly penetrated my most sensitive recess. At any sign of discomfort, he was quick to slow, adjust, assure us both of my continued desire. When he was past the first resistance, and able to finally stroke inside me, I was gone. I was devolved to little more than a whimpering, keening, begging bundle of flesh and nerves bound to his cock and I would have done anything he asked.
But he asked for nothing. He just loved me. He fucked me slowly and gently until neither of us could bear it any longer, and even as I wrapped my legs around his body, intent to never let him leave me, I reached a peak I had not hit… ever? Or if I had, it had been so long ago, I had forgotten.
“I’m close,” he gasped, knowing me well enough to know if he didn’t tell me, I might miss the whole point of this… the fact that I needed more than his love and his cum. I needed energy. I needed HIM.
Knowing exactly what HE needed, so immersed was I in his body, mind and essence, I met his beautiful blue eyes, and reached up to caress his beloved face and commanded softly: “Cum for me. Cum deep inside my ass. Cum inside your hole. Cum… cum for me, my love.”
I cannot describe the way it feels when someone you love gives you apart of their essence. It isn’t the same as someone you merely like or enjoy. And when it is given freely, with complete love, trust, and no thought of recompense… fireworks don’t come close. Supernovas wouldn’t come close.
I was used to that, in the physical realm; my lifemate is that sort of energy donor. But here, on the astral, where everything tends to be cloudy and muted, and feedings are usually equivalent to one-tenth what they are when I am truly flesh to flesh with a donor, I didn’t expect to experience anything close to what I did.
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