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Heat enveloped me in the darkness. Ryker’s bare skin came down on my own with blissful connection and molded around me as if our bodies were made to fit each other. He nipped and licked at the column of my throat as I moaned breathlessly, grinding myself against the length of his cock.
He trailed kisses down my neck, my chest, taking in the pink bud of my breast into his mouth greedily and kneading the other in the palm of his hand. I arched into his touch as his mouth moved lower and lower, feeling his hot breath on my skin. His hand slowly traced up my thigh, meeting my slickness and pushing a finger into me.
A loud moan escaped my lips.
His heavy gaze watched the pleasure etched across my face, the side of his mouth curved up in a smirk. He spread me wider, adding another finger and pumping them in and out of me slowly, curling them to hit that spot that had me writhing against him. He bent his head down and pressed his tongue against me. My hips bucked against him and my core throbbed as he moved his tongue back and forth, fast enough to bring me close to the edge but slow enough to keep me from toppling over.
“Ryker,” I pleaded.
Except I didn’t say that. I heard it. In my head.
My eyes shot open, and I was alone in my bed, hot with the intensity of the dream. But I could still hear myself moaning his name in thoughts that weren’t my own.
No fucking way.
I ripped the covers off and bolted out of my room to find Ryker still sleeping on the couch, his hardness apparent even from underneath the blanket.
Ayen’s ass. He’s dreaming about me.
And it had seemed so real and detailed. I ached for his touch that wasn’t really there just moments ago. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep if he kept projecting his fantasies about fucking me. And even though I wanted it just as badly as he did, I needed him to stop before I made his dreams a reality.
“Ryker!” I whispered sharply.
His eyes flew open and upon seeing me, he shot up into a sitting position. Tendrils of shadows swirled around us instantly.
“What? What is it? What’s wrong?” he said sleepily, eyes frantically looking around.
“Pleasant dreams?” I asked innocently.
“Urm, yes.” His words staggered. His shadows began to dissipate.
I gave a not-so-subtle glance down to his pants. He looked down in confusion before his eyes widened, and he bunched the blanket over his obvious arousal.
“Did I say something?” He asked.
I couldn’t help the grin sliding across my lips at his embarrassment of dreaming about his mate.
“You didn’t tell me that you could project your thoughts to others,” I said.
His face paled. “I did?”
“Yes. With visual, audible, and tactile detail.”
“I can’t do that. Not visual and tactile anyway, just audible. Or at least, I never have before. Not that I know of,” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh, you have.”
“I have? When?”
“The night before I left for Torx. Except I was seeing through your eyes in my dream. You were flying through a storm,” I said.
“I… I didn’t dream that. That actually happened,” he whispered.
I sat on the couch next to him. “And you didn’t know you could do this?”
“Not consciously anyway.” He shook his head.
I hummed in thought.
