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"What I want to do to you is bleeding through my gift. Making my own dreams a reality in your mind. I should’ve warned you, but it wouldn't have made a difference. I'll have you in your mind, even as I have your body."
I look at him, wary and also full of desire at the same time.
"You won't break me," I tell him.
"I already have."
I whirl to give Fabien a piece of my mind, and everything changes.
I’m no longer outside. I’m in a room. Velvet curtains trail over wide windows. Outside the view is of a hillside in some sparsely populated area. In the distance, I see what might be a vineyard. The air is warm, and the breeze is scented with cinnamon and herbs.
Fabien stands behind me. Aman.
Tall and handsome, square jawed. Helookslike Fabien in a way that’s hard to describe. Iknowit’s him, even if he’s human. Loose fitting sweats hang from his waist, and I see the outline of a thick cock beneath the fabric.
“This is a dream?”
“It is.”
“But…I’m not asleep.”
“My power extends well beyond sleep. I could keep you here for a century, while your body in the real world is in a coma. Or…”
He waves a hand and it all vanishes. The boom of fireworks echoes through the trees, and I’m standing barefoot in the Fae night, looking up at the stars and the moons over Faerie, so different from my own human world.
Fabien’s tentacles flow across my arms and trail down my back, sending tingles all across my skin.
“Take me inside. Show me your rooms.”
Fabien lifts me, carrying me like I weigh nothing at all. He pulls me close as he flows over the land towards the castle. I expected him to go to the gates, but his tentacles reach high and we slide up the walls as easily as we crossed the ground.
It’s a marvel, seeing him move freely.
“When you pretend to be human,” I tell him, “you do yourself a disservice.”
Fabien gives me a curious look, but says nothing as we round the top of the castle walls, sliding easily into an open window.
The rooms are incredible. Old fashioned in the best kind of way, like in a real castle. The furniture is carved wood, aged to perfection. The four poster bed looks fit for a princess — orprince, I guess — and the rugs are beautiful works of woven art.
He kisses me, hot and passionate. We flash to the other world, the dream world, and Fabien is there as a man, gorgeous and well-muscled. In this world, he holds me like a bride in his arms.
I pull my lips away from his.
“No.”
“No?”
“No more ofthis,” I poke at his chiseled pecs. “I wantyou. The real you.”
“You don’t prefer this? I don’t mind. I’m not offended.”
No, I don’t prefer it. It feels odd for me to think that. I prefer the way he looks in reality, tentacles and green skin and everything. I don’t know why. I know Ishouldprefer the human man, I guess.
But I don’t.
It makes me think of something that scares me, but I have to ask him.
“Would you…prefer me to look more like you? A water woman, with fins and such?”
