Addicted to the Duke (Imperfect Lords #1)(48)
She placed her hand on the middle of his bare chest and pushed lightly. “Alex, wake up, you’re having a bad dream.”
At the sound of her voice his movements stilled. He did not open his eyes, but his eyebrows knitted in a frown.
He was mumbling, so she leaned nearer.
“You’re so beautiful. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He kept repeating “I’m sorry” over and over and he was getting agitated again.
Was he apologizing to her? What for? For deceiving her into thinking this trip was for her benefit?
She stroked her hand over his chest. “Shh, it’s all right, Alex. I’m here.”
As his gaze swept over her, he said, “Even in my dreams you torment me.”
He went motionless and closed his eyes. “Why are you torturing me?”
So much pain imbued those words.
She lay down next to him, cradling him in her arms. “I wish I could relieve your torment,” she whispered as she cooed to him.
As if a part of him knew exactly the relief she could offer, he mumbled, “You haunt my dreams. In my dreams you belong to me. If all I can have are dreams, then I’ll embrace them,” he answered hoarsely.
His lips nuzzled her neck and he rolled onto his injury-free side, pulling her in close to his body.
His hand slid to her bosom and slipped underneath her garments.
—
Alex dreamed of his porcelain-skinned, fair-haired siren, Hestia. She came to him in this dream, caressing him, soothing him, helping him heal. In the real world he could never take her, but here in his dreams he could possess her, mark her, bind her to him always.
In his sleep he let dreamland draw him forth. He hoped and got his wish, the dream returned, she appeared beside his bed, gliding as if on air.
Striving for sanity, he closed his eyes; the feel of her lips against his and the smell of her skin were so real. He dipped his head and pushed her silky hair aside as he pressed a kiss to the back of her slender neck; her scent was enthralling. He heard her muffled groan.
He could just make out her features, fine and delicate, beautiful, the face of an angel, framed by her hair glittering silver in the moonlight. It hung long and straight, freely flowing over her shoulders. He longed to wrap his hands in it and feel the silky softness against his skin. The face of innocence with the body of a temptress—a body made for sin. Tonight in this dream he’d take his full pleasure of her.
“You feel so real.”
“I am real.” The feminine words drove his need higher.
He gripped her shoulders, suddenly lifting her away from him.
He lay back on the bed gently pulling Hestia with him. With a relief so exquisite he could have wept, he lowered his head and kissed her lips, pouring all his pent-up frustration into her warmth. Her mouth opened immediately in welcome. The delicious taste of her filled his senses, heat pooling in his groin. He had to slow down. Her mouth had him on fire; his aroused member would burst with one more touch, and he wanted to take his time and make this dream last all night.
Breaking the kiss, he whispered, “Tell me I’m the first man to really kiss you, hold you, and teach you about passion.”
“Of course you are. It’s been only you since I met you. I’ve known since you saved me that you’re the only man for me. I’ve wanted you for so long.”
She rose to a crouch on the mattress beside him, a smile of pure seduction on her breathtaking features.
“Remove your shirt.” She obeyed his request, removing the half shift she wore beneath as well. He murmured encouragement, and just as he had imagined, Hestia was not shy. She pulled away from him and moved to stand on the cabin floor near the bed. Like a first-class courtesan, Hestia slowly slipped her breeches down over curving hips.
Alex felt himself hardening further with anticipation. Please don’t let me wake from this fantasy.
Boldly, she stepped aside and kicked her trousers away. Her hands glided over her rounded stomach, up to cup her breasts in her hands.
Much more of this and he’d explode like an inexperienced schoolboy.
Alex moved so he was lying back against the pillows, his wound all but forgotten. “I don’t ever want to wake from this dream.”
He knew it was a dream, because Hestia stood naked in all her beauty, her body glistening in the moonlight, her breasts heaving with each deep breath. His gaze traveled down over her breasts, taking in the rounded curves of her hips before riveting on the silky fair curls at the apex of her thighs. Alex had never seen anything so exquisite.
“Come here,” he said, beckoning with his finger, holding her gaze, her beautiful blue eyes the color of molten sapphires sparkling in the lamplight. “Put one leg on the bed, here by me.”
She complied.
He sucked in his breath. She was now completely open to his gaze. He could feel her heat, smell the musky scent of her. He was going mad.
He ran his hands slowly down her legs, loving the feel of her soft skin. He felt her shudder.
“I want to kiss you all over.” His desire getting the better of him, he raised her leg and kissed her toes.
He repeated the action on her right leg. She stood as God intended, before him as perfect as any dream could be. His breathing hitched.
“You’re so beautiful.” He pulled her forward until she tumbled down on the bed beside him, and he drank from her lips. “That’s better,” he purred. He lowered his head and claimed her mouth once more.