Virtuous(74)

“That’s my brave girl.” I kiss from her shoulders down her back to her ass, which glows from the attention I’ve given it. I hold her cheeks apart and lick her * and back to where the plug stretches her skin obscenely. She is so wet and so ready. Since this is my dream and we’re in a fully committed relationship, I don’t bother with a condom before I push my cock into her *, slowly and carefully, since space is at a premium due to the plug.

She grunts and groans and moans, her tight channel rippling around my cock in what feels like a constant orgasm.

“Talk to me, baby. How does it feel?”

“So tight.”

“Mmm, so good.” I push on the plug to remind her she’s being filled from both ends, and her * clamps down on my cock so relentlessly I nearly come on the spot. Grasping her hips as I f*ck her hard and deep, I lose myself in her in a way I never have with anyone else. I’m transported, right out of this room and straight to paradise. My balls tighten and my spine tingles. As I get closer, I pick up the pace, pounding into her relentlessly. Because I want her with me when I come, I reach around to find the hard nub of her clit. I pinch it between my fingers, giving her no quarter.

I can tell she’s on the brink of an epic release, so I use my other hand to remove the clamps, making her scream as the blood flows back into her tortured nipples at the same second she comes. The squeeze on my cock is so intense that I see stars as I empty myself into her.

I wake with a start to realize I’ve come in reality as well as in my dream. My cock is throbbing, my pants are wet, and I’m sweating profusely. Beside me, Natalie sleeps on, undisturbed. I’m rattled and mortified and shocked. I haven’t had a wet dream since I was a teenager, and even then it was a rare occurrence.

The dream comes back to me in erotic snippets… Natalie standing nude in the midst of Quantum. The pale skin on her ass reddened from my hand. My fingers gliding into her ass in preparation for the plug.

My cock hardens all over again at the memories that come back to me one after the other to torture me, as if I didn’t just have the single most explosive orgasm of my life. Moving slowly so I won’t disturb her, I get out of bed and go into the bathroom, where I remove my soiled pants.

“Jesus,” I whisper to myself and the almighty. What the hell just happened? I splash cold water on my face until my breathing calms and my heart stops racing. I’m ashamed and appalled to have had such a dream about Natalie, but underneath it all, I’m insanely aroused at the idea of sharing an experience like that with her.

And then I’m just as quickly despondent at the knowledge it’ll never happen. It will be all she can do to handle regular sex, let alone my kind. I tell myself I can live with that as long as I get to be with her, but deep, lacerating doubts plague me nonetheless.

I take a long shower as images from the dream continue to taunt and arouse me. I’m like a live wire by the time I step out of the shower and pull on a clean pair of pajama pants. If I were here alone, I’d wear nothing. But out of respect for Natalie, I wear the pants. I venture into the living room, pour myself a couple fingers of Bowmore and take it with me to the windows that look down over the bright lights of Hollywood.

I’m tormented by what I should do where she’s concerned. The dream has helped to solidify how impossibly out of reach this relationship really is. I have to let her go while I still can. After this weekend, I’ll do what I should’ve done right from those first minutes in the park.

I’ll let her go, even if it kills me. It’s what’s best for her.





Chapter 15





I wake up alone, which is profoundly disappointing after taking the momentous step of sleeping with him in the first place. The robe he lent me last night is laid across the foot of the bed. I put it on and tie the belt at my waist. In the bathroom, I use the facilities and brush my teeth and hair before wandering into the hallway to look for Flynn.

He isn’t in the office, but I take a moment in the light of day to check out the framed photos that cover the walls. There are pictures of him with some of the biggest names in the business. In them, he’s always wearing that wide, appealing grin I’ve become so fond of.

Like his desk in New York, this one is also piled high with scripts and other piles of paper and folders. Just as I’m wondering why he doesn’t have someone clean up the office, Addie appears in the doorway.

“He won’t let me touch a thing in here,” Addie says as she hands me a mug of steaming coffee. “I took a guess on the cream and sugar.”