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So wet, her thighs practically stuck together underneath her gown. She wasn’t wearing anything else.
And somehow, even in her imagination, she felt wanton and scandalous. Especially when the sensitive button hidden beneath swollen folds at the apex of her thighs throbbed most insistently.
In time with the thundering of her heart.
In time with the galloping of her pulse.
Pulsing with need.
Wet, slick, incendiary need.
Yes,she said in a rather raspy voice.
A swim in the ocean is just what I need.
~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~* ~ *~ * ~
This was the first time Sai had his own consciousness in Brigid’s dreams.
Before, he’d been a disembodied observer. A shadow of a ghost. When he closed his eyes, and the pain was too much to bear, oblivion had been a welcome reprieve.
Then, through the darkness and endless torment, a faint light began to glow. Over time, the shadows lifted to reveal a hazy dream. Full of beauty, wonder and gorgeous song.
A girl had appeared. At first just a babe cradled in overlapping banana leaves. The trees had rocked her in a soothing lullaby, while the sprites had brought her dandelion puffs to blow for making wishes.
Somehow, even in her baby gibberish, he’d always heard her wishes…
I wish my new mama and papa would love each other forever, just like they do now.
I wish they would always love me too, even though they’re not my real mama and papa. Even though I’m strange.
I wish I could have sisters to play with. Wee ones to coddle like my own babies.
I wish I had a playmate all my own.
Someone more magical than unicorns, lovelier than elves.
Someone who shone like the moon and the stars, whose light would never fade.
Even in the darkness…
Over time, that babe had learned to toddle about on her own, stumbling over mossy grass, chasing butterflies and mischievous pixies in a fine, summer rain. Then, that girl gradually matured, traipsing about in flowing, gossamer gowns, light as spider silk. Her frizzy brown hair puffed about her head like a halo, burnished gold in the setting sun.
She began to call him forth with more clarity and insistence. Until his face and form took more and more substance, and he could walk with her wherever she went. A ghostly companion at her side.
She talked to him as if they were always in the middle of a private conversation. Sharing her inner thoughts and desires. From flippant things like hats, gloves and morning dresses, to her worries about one sister’s illness or a tenant farmer’s lost sheep.
Though he couldn’t talk back, he always listened. Her low, lyrical voice was a balm to his soul.
Sometimes, when she pulled him into her dreams, he almost forgot about his hellish reality, almost couldn’t feel his countless open, salted wounds.
But in all that time, she’d never dreamed about the sea. Always, she kept to forests, meadows, lakes and streams. Once in a while there might be mountains in the distance, jutting into swathes of fluffy white clouds.
This washisworld now. The ocean was his domain.
Somehow, he’d brought her here.
His Titania.
