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Relief washes over me in a dizzy wave. I can’t stop this. I’ve tried to resist it. I tried to do the right thing, and that door is closed to me. The only thing left to do is endure, experience this to its fullest. I close my eyes and lean my head back, letting my legs uncross and slide open. There’s no other choice, is there?
This time, I don’t jump when a faint moan reaches me. Or when strong hands gently urge my thighs wider. I’m certain I had clothes on just a moment ago, but they’ve disappeared just like my double’s did earlier.
Breath ghosts over my most private flesh, and I bite my lip bloody, not certain whether I’m holding in a protest or a plea for more. It doesn’t matter. The first slow drag of a tongue over me steals what words I might have summoned.
A teasing lick. An exploratory caress. It feels so wrong to be doing this, which only makes my desire spike hotter. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter. I won’t look. It’s not happening if I don’t look. Or maybe because it’s a dream. Or...
The attempts to reason through this leave me as they find my clit. I know that little nub of nerves intimately, courtesy of my own explorations in the darkest part of the night, but I’ve never had someone else touch me there. Certainly not Jacob the single time we had sex. Not with his hands and not with his mouth.
Rusalka—because who else could this be?—rubs the flat of their tongue over my clit, a gentle tease that makes my head fall back farther and my body go both limp and tight at the same time. Again and again, building my desire higher and tighter and...
“Oh my God!”
I sit up in bed, my body tangled in the sheets, my core pulsing with a fading need as my orgasm recedes. I press my hands to my scorched cheeks, my breath coming in ragged inhales. I’ve dreamed erotically in the past, but never on that level. Never with that detail. And never with a partner who did that to me.
Even as that ugly little voice in the back of my mind tells me not to, I lie back down onto the soft mattress and ease my hand between my thighs. No surprise that I’m heated and wet. Again, I ignore the voice demanding I stop, and I slide my middle finger between my folds, following the phantom path Rusalka’s tongue took in my dreams. It doesn’t feel the same, not really, but the imagination is a wonderful and terrifying thing, and I can almost—almost—reclaim the sensation.
Desire winds me tighter and tighter, and when I crest, it’s with Rusalka’s name glowing in my mind.
6
RUSALKA
“What do you mean, no one touches her?”
I bite back a sigh of irritation and turn to Zhenya. Ze is practically bouncing on zir toes, zir mass of dark curls following the movement a beat later. Zir shadows contract and expand with each bounce, creating a dizzying visual. Zhenya is tall for an incubus, nearly as tall as I am, and zir skin is medium brown in some places and pure white in others, forming a gorgeous pattern. Ze is filled with enough energy to outlast anyone I know. It’s a boon in so many ways, but right now I don’t have the patience for it.
The meeting with the Insomnior Court yesterday was mostly to bring them up to speed. They needed to understand the gift—and risk—Belladonna represents. The potential ramifications are something we’ll circle for some time, but I was too focused on getting Belladonna settled, knowing that further answers would come when she slept... Well, they came, didn’t they? She’s a powder keg and must be handled gently.
Which means another conversation about boundaries. “I mean exactly what I said. Let her watch. Don’t touch her. Not yet.”
Belladonna is curious, but the damned shame blocks everything. I’m not so arrogant as to think I can unravel a lifetime of conditioning in a few days. Walking through dreams is easier when there’s only a single night of a human’s dreams to engage with. I don’t have to worry about what comes with the sunrise.
“But—”
“Rushing her risks harming her, which harms our people.”
“Rusalka is right.” Danik lounges on the couch, weaving fire between his claws. He looks well rested, his dark-brown skin gleaming in the flickering light. “Not just because the cost of harm is so high. She’s the first human to set foot in our territory in longer than anyone can remember. It would be shortsighted to fumble this opportunity.”
I manage a smile in response, but it feels distracted. Surely Belladonna is awake by now. Is she even now lying in bed, awash with cloying guilt and simmering need? Her dream surprised me. I should have kept my distance and allowed her to rest without interference, but her lust drew me in despite myself. I wanted to know what gave her such a delicious thrill. Imagine my shock when it was us, an image of me and Belladonna tangled intimately.
I didn’t have to manipulate a single thing, and the sheer need she exhibited gave me a surge of power that is still leaving me restless, hours later.
My little human is curious and lustful, and I want to get to her before she has a chance to retreat behind that wall of shame. Before I can give myself several very solid reasons not to move, I’m on my feet. “I’ll have her ready for the tour in a few hours. Make sure everything is ready.”
Danik laughs softly under his breath. “Everything will be perfect, Rusalka. Have no doubts about it.”
“I don’t.” I sweep out of the room, catch myself rushing, and check my stride. Even forcibly slowing myself down, I reach Belladonna’s room in short order. It’s tempting to walk in and surprise her, but that would cross a line. To even consider it at all rocks me back on my heels. I don’t misstep, not when the consequences are so damnably high. I haven’t forgotten to consider the risk to my people in any given situation in longer than I can remember, and the fact that I almost do in this moment worries me.
I take a breath and knock. The door opens so suddenly, she must have been standing in front of it. Gods help me, but I drink in the sight of her. Belladonna is deliciously rumpled, her dark hair tangled and wavy from sleep, her loose dress slightly askew, one strap slipping off her shoulder. I lick my lips before I can stop myself. “Good morning.”
“Rusalka.” Her voice squeaks in the middle of my name. “I, uh, hi. Hello. Good morning.”
All the tension bleeds out of me after a few seconds in her presence. She’s so nervous, it’s impossible for me to be nervous too. I smile. “I thought you might want something to eat. Then we’ll take a tour of the house. If you’re not dead on your feet at that point, we can walk the town square. My people are curious about you.”
Her eyes—a gorgeous deep brown—go wide. “I know the purpose I’ll serve here. Surely everyone doesn’t need to meet me. They’ll just—” She stops herself, straightens, and clears her throat. “A tour would be lovely.”
I wait for her to change and pull on shoes before I offer her my arm. I chew on her words—and what she didn’t say. Part of me threatens to bristle at the idea that she might find my people lesser. Though it’s nothing more than I’m used to. Every territory in this realm is certain that they’re miles better than the others, and they’re all sure they’re superior to the incubi and succubi. It stands to reason that humans think they’re better than us all.
