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“Jo.” I gasped out her name, and it was lost in the noise of the water still cascading over me.
I wanted her.
I wanted her to see the pleasure she brought me. I was her mate, her alpha. She had to know.
My muscles stiffened and I breathed heavily as cum spurted from me, splashing against the wall and the floor, washing away as quickly as it emerged.
I pumped lazily again, thrusting slowly as I tightened my hand around the head of my cock, ensuring its emptiness.
Then I soaped my body again and rinsed before stepping out of the shower and drying off. I was both fatigued and energized. Sated and left wanting. My own hand would never compare to being with Jo.
It couldn’t match the light in her eyes or the warmth of her body.
I walked to my bed, arousal still tight in my muscles, desire still vibrating under my skin.
The sheets rested against my naked body, and the soft touch of the material was almost too much sensory information to process. I flung them off as my eyes slid closed.
Then Jo lay next to me in my dream, pressing against me, and I smiled as I wrapped my arms around her, drawing her closer, pinning my already hardening cock between us.
She slipped her hand between our bodies, wrapping her fingers around me, and laughing softly as I tensed. “You like that?” But her question was unnecessary.
Of course, I liked that. I longed for her.
“Maybe you’ll like something else,” she whispered, and she moved from my hold, wriggling herself downward until she was between my legs. She glanced at me, her eyes wide and innocent, her mouth already parted, her lips pink.
My cock jerked.
She wrapped her fingers around the bottom of the shaft again and she slowly lowered her head. I watched, unable to look away as she wrapped her lips around me, as her tongue guided her way down.
She hummed a little as she moved, finding pleasure in taking me into her mouth, in sucking on me.
Her tongue swirled around the head, and I pushed up, just a fraction, wanting more of her mouth’s warmth.
Then she sighed as I threaded my fingers into her hair, tugging on the strands, making her gasp and gasp again.
Her tongue slid up and down my shaft, teasing me, and I pulled away, taking back control before pushing her gently onto her back so I could gaze at her, taking her in, mapping every inch of her body, committing it into my mind like I had the first night we were together.
But my act this time was slower, more controlled. Deliberate.
I lowered myself over her, ready to push forward, wanting to bury myself deep within her and savor the passion that grew so readily between us. I lowered my head, ready to press my lips against hers, but a sound caught my attention.
A sound that didn’t belong.
The noise of splashing woke me again and I groaned as I rolled over, ripped from my dream before I was ready, the last heat of desire slow to recede.
Jo’s jasmine scent still lingered around me as though she had just left my bed, but that was merely a cruel illusion.
I closed my eyes and thumped my fist uselessly into the pillow. The dream was gone.
Yet it lingered like a prophesy of the future. I closed my eyes and flipped onto my back, imagining Jo sharing my bed every night, waking up with her every morning.
My feelings settled deep within me, resting in my heart, the very core of my being. They wrapped around my soul. I needed to see her…
But first…when the splashing didn’t stop, I grabbed my alarm clock, jumped out of bed, and walked to the door that led straight out onto the large balcony.
“Jackson!” I boomed out his name and he stopped swimming, his lips parted, his eyes wide as he looked at me.
“Jesus, Patrick, quiet down. It’s early.”
