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It sucked. Life dragged on. But all my dreams thus far had been tame and quite unremarkable. I kind of wanted to gouge myself in the gut with a spoon to bear sleep without them, but I couldn’t handle Vienne growing even more stressed or guilty because of them, so…I suffered through. They were only dreams, after all.
Except I missed them. And I think Vienne did too. For not even a week later, she fell asleep first, prompting a dream like none other. I swear, we did nothing but fuck in it the entire time, in every way imaginable.
It started out in the dining hall, innocent enough. Every royal was seated in our usual places, eating scorpion, when she glanced up and across the table directly at me. When I looked up as well and met her gaze, something overcame her. She swiped out her hand, shoving her meal off the table and out of her way so she could crawl up onto and right over her plate, then hop down onto the floor on the other side to stalk toward me, demanding, “Where have you been? I’ve missed you.”
My gaze showed surprise, a forkful of scorpion meat halfway to my mouth, when I answered, “I’ve been trying to be a good boy,” which in all honesty, was the truth.
But she answered, “I don’t want a good boy. I just want you.” And she climbed up onto the table in front of me, shoving my dinner out of her way so she could slide into my lap, straddling my hips and slam herself down onto my cock.
Of course, our clothes had already disappeared by that point and I slid right up inside her. And right there, in front of everyone, she took me, wild and free, bouncing on my lap until we both came with mad shouts of joy, while everyone else ate their supper around us as if nothing whatsoever interesting was going on between us.
Gripping my face hard between her hands, she told me, “You are mine. Mine, do you hear me? Stop trying to hide from that.”
“Yes, my lady,” I told her, still panting and settling down from my high. “I am yours completely. As you are mine.” Closing my eyes, I lifted my face to kiss her, but my lips only seemed to find hair.
When I opened my lashes, the dream had morphed to the Throne Room, where I had just buried my face into the hair at the back of her neck as I bent her over Caulder’s royal chair, lifted her skirt and took her from behind.
After that, I fucked her against the wall of clear rock in the East Salon, and then she spread me out on my back on the mattress in her bedchambers and climbed onto my lap. There were a couple other rooms we made love in, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, once in a loch in the forest outside the castle, once on top of the castle’s curtain wall under the cloudy sun. She even dreamed about us riding on the back of a dragon together as it flew through the skies while I kissed her madly and thrust up inside her.
She told me she never wanted to wake up and that she was happy with me. Agreeing wholeheartedly, I just kissed her and took her again, in some new, inventive way.
I woke the next morning with her erotic whispers still echoing in my ear. Soaked with sweat and exhausted from a marathon night of dream sex, I could only lie there a moment and smile up at my ceiling
, more satisfied than I could remember feeling in a long time.
That had been a good day. I trained with the men as I’d never trained before and felt alive and ready to tackle the world.
Until dinner that evening.
Vienne absolutely refused to even look at me across the banquet table. Her shoulders hunched over her food in misery, her face went pale, and her eyes turned sunken and haunted. I knew exactly why. She couldn’t stop remembering the dream of us together in this very room.
When she lurched to her feet halfway through the meal and asked Caulder if she could be excused, all the vigor and cheer I’d experienced that day died a bitter death. While I’d been having a glorious time after the dream, she’d been drenched in shame and remorse.
It seemed as if one of us couldn’t be happy without the other being miserable.
I refrained from spirits that night; it didn’t seem to matter if I drank myself to sleep or not. We were going to dream about each other no matter what. And it was going to tear her apart inside.
Unless…
I stayed up late, trying to avoid sleep altogether, because if one of us was awake, then we couldn’t share dreams at all, now could we? Maybe that was the answer; we’d just have to sleep at different times from here on out.
Except that didn’t work either. I tried my damnedest to stay alert and awake the entire night, but I drifted off at some point, only to jerk awake in the wee hours to my mate’s distress. At first, I thought I was stuck in one of her awful nightmares where that bitch of a headmistress at the girl’s school she’d attended would come in and beat her arms and the backs of her legs with a cane to “improve” her behavior.
I abhorred those dreams. That fucking academy they’d sent her to had been detestable. Every instructor had treated her like shit. I always wanted to climb out of her skin and start kicking ass when I saw what abuse she’d suffered, but I was helpless, forced to experience it with her as she relived the memories over and over again in her sleep.
Thank God, tonight wasn’t one of those dreams. When I realized I was looking at the ceiling in my own bedchamber from my own point of view, and everything was too clear to be a dream, I pinched myself.
Yep. Definitely awake. Groggy, but awake.
The distress hit me again. It seeped into my consciousness until I bolted upright, fully alert.
Vienne!
She was unwell.
Not in pain but definitely not happy.
Flinging off the sheets, I landed barefoot on the rug before grabbing a single pair of trousers and tugging them on as I sprang toward the door. Forgoing a shirt and shoes, I hurried into the hall barefoot and jogged toward her wing of the castle.
