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The Psychology of Dreams 101 Ch 6

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6aIn Part 6 of The Psychology of Dreams, Leah and Al are saved by the smoke alarm. But saved from what?

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 6!

 

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 5, find it here. 

 

WARNING ADULT CONTENT! It occurred to me halfway through writing this episode of The Psychology of Dreams that this little tale might be a bit of a shock for those who just finished reading In The Flesh. While In The Flesh is dark paranormal romance, The Psychology of Dreams is just raunchy, fun erotica, a bit of light relief after Magda and her Consortium. Be warned, light it may be, but filthy it most certainly is. Enjoy!

 

Chapter 6 Now what?

“So what do we do now,” Al said. “We can’t go on like this.” He glanced down at his overworked fly, and Leah nodded her frustrated agreement, standing as she was, with her trousers down over her hips and one blazing ass cheek exposed from her red panties.

“Well,” the good doctor rubbed his chin and glanced around the room. “We could continue here. We’re clearly still all in Leah’s dream,” He nodded to his desk top, “I suppose the location doesn’t matter – at least not unless we’re going to analyze the dream, but I hardly think we can even consider that while we’re in it.”

“I don’t care about analyzing it,” Leah said. “I just want to get it over with. Besides, your office is a lot nicer that Al’s classroom.”

As Doctor Clyde cleared off his desk, Leah noted, as she hurried her trousers and panties down over her hips, that she could see her reflection in the polished glow of the dark wood.

“I want to look at you,” Al said, helping her out of her clothes.

Writing pen and birds 1_xl_20156020            Leah was about to ask the doctor to see if the mirror they’d been using might be in his desk, after all if they were still in her dream, everything they might need should be tucked away nicely. Certainly there was a lot more room for dream paraphernalia in his huge desk. The two men, however, had something else in mind, as they hurried her out of the rest of her clothes and, when she started to bend over the desk, now completely naked, it was Doctor Clyde who stopped her. “Not like that, not yet anyway,” he gave her breasts a grope and then together he and Al turned her until her back was to the desk. Al kneed her legs apart … wide apart, until she had to grab onto his arm to keep from losing her balance.

“Now this may sting just for a moment, but trust me, it’ll be worth a tiny bit of pain,” the doctor said.

Both men reached beneath her legs and lifted her in a seated two-person fireman carry so that they supported her beneath the knees and high on the ass, effectively forcing her to spread herself wide open as they settled her, girlie bits first, onto the cool shiny surface. At first there was a sharply inhaled breath, and then she forgot all about the pain in her bottom and gave a little sigh of surprise as she got it, she totally got it! Making a damp spot on the good doctor’s pristine desk was exactly what they had in mind. She spread her legs a little farther and gave a little wriggle and a moan — a moan which the men echoed as they waited expectantly. Then they lifted her off the desk and they all three turned anxiously to admire the print of her, splayed, swollen, and more than ready for some serious relief, but as the doctor led her to the other end of the desk, not wanting to disturb her artwork, and bent her over, as Al slipped his belt from its loops, still admiring her self-portrait on the desk, she remembered again that the punishment had to be completed before she got any relief.

She groaned. “All right, then, lets get on with it, shall we?” It came as a total surprise when Doctor Clyde fumbled out of his paisley tie and bound her hands behind her back. She was just about to panic, just about to tell him that she didn’t like being tied up when she suddenly realized that … actually she liked it just fine. If anything it made her even more aroused, a thing she would have thought well-on impossible at this stage of the game. A breathless groan from Al clued her in that he liked it too. Then he quickly added. “It’s your dream, Leah. Do you want to be bound?”

“Of course she does,” the doctor answered for her, “Can’t you tell by her breathing, by the way she squirms. If all else fails just give her a little feel.” He wriggled a thick finger up into her wetness, and she struggled not to groan. You’re the Dom, Al, you don’t ask, you pay attention to your sub’s body language. You are the one who gets to choose, besides,” he brought his finger away from her and popped it into his mouth as though it had just been in the cookie dough, “a little restraint can be such a turn on in these situations, and of course the dream symbolism … well I quiver to think. Now then,” he nodded to Al, “Time to tackle the rest of that luscious ass.”

Al took a deep breath, and Leah held hers and closed her eyes, her heart racing in anticipation, her brain doing what it could to mentally prepare her for the sting. The fucking doctor stopped the action again!

“Hold it! Hold it! If you do it like that, Al, you’re going to hurt her other butt cheek just as badly, and we’ll never get this punishment sorted.

“Well fuck, Derrick!” Al exploded. “How the hell am I supposed to know what to do? I’ve never done this sort of thing before.”

Doctor Clyde took the belt from his clenched fist and half whispered in his ear, “not even in your dreams? Come on, Al, admit it, you’re a teacher, haven’t you ever wanted to spank a misbehaving student on her little bare bottom?” As he spoke, his free hand came to rest on Leah’s unmarred buttock, which he began to stroke and knead until she could no longer keep from grinding against the hard wood surface, easing her legs apart with each wriggle and shift as the doctor’s thumb came dangerously close to her back hole. She was just doing her best to raise her bottom, so his fingers would slide home where she really needed them when, with a motion so fast is was over almost before she could do more than give a little cry of shock — one in which Al joined her, the belt came down sharp and crisp, like the strike of a snake and, while the sting was still there, it translated almost immediately into something quite different than pain down deep in between her legs. “Oh … Oh!” came her almost involuntary response.

“Now there, you see, Al?” The doctor said. “Don’t come,” he addressed Leah, then turned his attention back to Al. “She’s close, Al, here feel,” He guided Al’s fingers down to the evidence, and Leah bit back a curse. “See, she’s close, but she’s being punished, remember?” He handed the belt back to Al and added, “don’t you come either. A Dom has to have even more self-control than he expects from his sub if the results are to be satisfactory, or so I’ve heard. Now then,” he rubbed his hands together in anticipation, “I think we’re making progress here, though it is a shame about the sandwich, I mean the one the three of us were about to make back in Al’s classroom, but that’s dreams for you, isn’t it?” Before he could do more than wave Al on, the next sharp thwak came expertly administered to the wounded left butt cheek, but just enough to the outside that the sting was exquisite way down deep where Al had not bothered to withdraw his stroking fingers.

“Oh that’s a nice touch, Al. Well done. Raise the steaks by making her hurt so good all over your fingers. You’re getting the hang of this now.” With that the good doctor unzipped his fly and pulled out his erection just as Al gave her right cheek another smack, then trailed the length of the belt down her spine and teasingly along the cleft of her ass, and she moaned.

Al gathered Leah’s hair into his fist like she was a horse and he was the rider, then he began a rhythmic smack, smack, 7401867966b49d9e25e799def0c09dae
smacking of her upper thighs in turn just enough to sting, just enough to stimulate, while he pulled her hair back just enough to make her arch up off the desk, just enough to lift her nipples off the desk while driving her pubic bone hard and tight against the wood. It was hypnotic, it might have even been meditative if she hadn’t needed to come so badly, if she hadn’t been clenching tight, holding herself right on the very edge, waiting for it … waiting for it … Waiting for what? How the hell would she know when her punishment was over and she could get on with it? Get on with what? Was there something that was supposed to happen after they’d both been punished? Certainly they’d assumed so and so did Dr. Clyde, but how could they know? This was only a dream, wasn’t it?

“And now I’m going to put her mouth to good use,” the doctor said, “Turn her head just a little bit this way, Al. It would be a shame to waste one nice wet hole just because the other one is being punished.”

The relentless ringing of her doorbell brought Leah up from a sound sleep in a startled jerk that landed her on the floor with a breath jarring kathunk and a yelp trailed by several breathless expletives. Who the hell would be ringing her doorbell at this hour? She drug herself to her feet and cinched her robe around her waist, all the while the doorbell kept brrring, brrring, brrringing. From beside her bed, she grabbed the baseball bat she always kept handy just in case and, with heart hammering, made her way on tiptoes through the darkened house to the front door. In her efforts to be quiet, she miscalculated the distance from the coffee table to her little toe, and there was no stifling the resulting yowl of pain well laced in foul language.

The doorbell went silent. “Leah?” Came the hissed voice from the other side.

“…Al? Is that you?”

“It’s me, yes.”

She hobbled to the door slid the deadbolt and opened to her bleary-looking instructor, who stood in complete dishabille. Bed head didn’t begin to describe his wild hair. His shirt was buttoned crooked and untucked from his jeans,
and he wore no socks. “Did I wake you? I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes. I was dreaming.” She nodded him in.Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_b

“I know. So was I. Listen, about that. I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” She looked down at her watch. “It was nearly three in the morning.”

“And thank heaven my smoke detector went off,” he said, then he waved a dismissive hand. “Oh it was nothing, just low battery, but it was enough to get me out of the dream and make me realize what’s happening. As soon as I figured it out, I knew I had to warn you or we’d be stuck in the dream unpunished and unsatisfied.”

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Chapter 4

f7c97536836dc44ea7a1faaa02ab1a6aIn Part 4 of The Psychology of Dreams, Dr. Clyde becomes Leah and Al’s dream advisor by default.

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, and her psychology of dreams teacher, Al, in The Psychology of Dreams 101.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious and I had to share it. Since then,the Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination in some pretty unusual ways, and never taking the path I’d expect, but then dreams are like that, aren’t they? Enjoy episode 4!

The Psychology of Dreams 101, is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

If you’ve missed Episode 3, Find it here. 

 

 

Chapter 4 In Command of the Dream

“It didn’t work,” Leah said as she sat down next to Al on the cordovan leather sofa in Dr. Clyde’s office.

The good doctor looked up from the legal pad on which he’d been taking notes and gave a wide-eyed blink as though he’d been completely unaware of their presence until just this second. He laid the pen down on the pad and glanced from one of them to the other. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened,” Leah said. “I went to Al’s classroom, but it was locked and empty.”

“Nothing happened for me either,” Al said. “I just knelt naked on the floor of the dungeon, but no one ever came to bind me and … use me.”

“There was no word,” Leah continued, “At least not one I’m aware of. The dream was less satisfying than ever, because this time I knew what was supposed to happen. This time I had expectations, and now I’m even more frustrated than I was before.”

“Nothing happened,” they both protested at the same time, and as they did so, Dr. Clyde picked up the pen on his pad and wrote in big square letters. NOTHING HAPPENED, and suddenly they were all three back in Al’s classroom. Al sat in the chair with his belt in his hand, Leah stood before him in her transparent red underwear, and Dr. Clyde sat cross-legged on top of Al’s desk, pad and pen at the ready.

“Sometimes even recurring dreams take unexpected twists and turns.” He nodded to Al and gave Leah a little shooing motion with his pen. “Well, get on with it.” He glanced down at his watch. “There’s a lot more to get through before dawn if the two of you are serious about finishing the dream before you wake up. Oh, and Al, I would suggest that when Leah begins to squirm and get restless, you finger her snatch a bit, you know, change the game plan, hold her attention in the dream with a little enticement other than pain. Nothing’s quite as enticing as just the right mix of pleasure and pain, I bet you didn’t think about it when you were spanking her before, did you?”

“It’s not my dream,” Al said, as he pulled Leah down across his knees and raised the belt.

“Well in that case you can be forgiven, I suppose, but Leah, when it’s gets all squirmy for you and you don’t know whether to cry or come, tell him. Tell Al how his smacking of your little bare bottom is making you horny; remind him that he doesn’t have to be so single-minded with your punishment. It’s all right for him to be creative. It’s your dream, as he says. You tell him what you want from it.”

whisky-630x383“Can I do that?” she asked. “Is this supposed to happen? Are you even supposed to be here?”

“It’s your dream,” he replied with a little shrug. “If you want me to leave, just say the word.”

“No. No it’s all right. You can stay.” Leah found that the idea of the ever so dapper Dr. Clyde watching her get spanked made her transparent underpants even wetter, but as she bent back over Al’s lap and once again Al raised his belt, Dr. Clyde interrupted again.

“Wait, wait, wait! Al, haven’t you ever done this before? Pull her panties down, at least; or if not, pull them to one side and expose the round little buttock you’re about to smack. Better yet, expose them one at a time as you smack them in turn. Yeah, that’s better still, don’t you think, Leah.”

Leah’s planned comment of agreement came out as a little yelp and a moan as Al wriggled fingers into the leg of her panties and slid the crotch aside.

“Oh he likes that, Leah, doesn’t he like that?” Dr. Clyde said.

When she glanced up at him, confused and red-faced from the blood rushing to her head, he shook his head and made a derisive sound at the back of his throat. “Well, give a little wriggle. Surely you can feel his hard-on. You are hard, aren’t you, Al? Hell, I’m hard as a rock, and I’m just watching.”

Leah did as he said and the resulting gasp from her and groan and squirm from Al made comment unnecessary. Once again Dr. Clyde motioned for them to get on with it.

But as the first blow fell and Leah’s world flashed bright with red hot pain and there was nothing at all sexy about what she was feeling, it was the good doctor’s stopping of the action that gave her blazing ass a temporary reprieve. “No, no, no! Not like that, Al. You’re spanking her, for fuck sake, not tenderizing a steak with a hammer. Christ! Haven’t you ever spanked a woman before?”

“No! I haven’t. Why would I? It’s not my fucking dream.” Al’s voice rose defensively, then he added quickly. “Leah, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Leah was all but in tears when the doctor helped her up off Al’s lap, while Al apologized profusely.

“Well it’s certainly no wonder the two of you can’t seem to get through your dream punishments, talk
about a couple of true blue vanilla beans.” Before either could protest, he pulled a bottle of Glenmorangie from the bottom desk drawer along with three finely cut crystal glass and poured a generous tot in each. “What?” he replied to their shocked stares. “It’s a dream, for fuck sake, and sometimes you need a little liquid courage even in a dream.” He handed them each a glass. Once they’d all had a good solid sip, he sat his drink down, rubbed his hands together and gave the two of them a good sizing-up. “Right, first of all, let’s do something about your poor little stinging bottom, Leah, and then we’ll try again.” He moved the bottle and his glass aside and nodded her to bend over the desk. When she balked, he said, “oh don’t worry. I’m not going to spank it, I’m just going to make it feel better.”

She shot Al a glance, but he only shrugged, so she downed her whisky for courage, handed the glass to Al and did as the good doctor said. The red panties had ridden up into her butt crack with the first disastrous smack of the belt and she hadn’t noticed until Dr. Clyde carefully slid fingers into the waistband and peeled them down around her knees, leaving them there, almost as s reminder that at the end of the day this was still a punishment and she was a captive audience in this dream, if Dr. Clyde’s hypnotism had worked as he claimed. For some reason, that made her squirm against the desk with added excitment.

“Now let’s see what we have here.” Leah could feel his warm breath against her bare ass, which made her Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_bsquirm even more. He let out a low whistle. “Oh my! You did leave a mark, Al. Would you like to see, Hon?” He addressed Leah ignoring Al’s awkward attempts at an apology as he produced a large square mirror from the desk drawer. It was way too big to fit into the drawer. It reminded Leah of the vanity mirror in her bedroom. Come to think of it, the thing was exactly like her vanity mirror, but then it was her dream, after all. She strained to look over her shoulder as the doctor positioned the mirror to reflect her glowing red left butt cheek, the sight of which had her squirming against the desktop again. Dr. Clyde chuckled knowingly. “Sometimes it’s worth the pain to see the end result,” he said. “However, all things in good time, and Al was a little heavy-handed a little too soon. Oh do shut up, Al! A Dom does not apologize for doling out deserved punishment, and yes, my lad, in this dream, you are a Dom, so get used to it and do it right or we may never get out of this dream.”

 

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101: Part Three

Writing pen and birds 1_xl_20156020In Part 3 of The Psychology of Dreams, Leah and Al decide to take their punishment dreams to a hypnotherapist.

What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, has in the second instalment of The Psychology of Dreams 101.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I don’t get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious last week, and I had to share it. The Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination again, so today I’m back with another instalment of a new serial.

The Psychology of Dreams 101, is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

Part 3 of The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a quick and dirty today, finished hurriedly after I sent a mega-manuscript off yesterday evening, so please excuse any typos, as I’m out the door and will hopefully give one more read-through when I get back home.

If you missed episode 2, find it here.

 

 

Chapter 3 Prepping to Dream

“When I wake up,” Leah said, “well, I’m always so … aroused, I can’t do anything until I … touch myself. And then, after I’ve gotten some relief, I feel guilty, oh not that I’ve masturbated,” she waved a hand to negate any comments he might make about her guilt. “I’ve masturbated since I was eleven, and being on my own, working from home as I do … well, it’s an outlet.”

“I understand,” Al said gently, “as one practitioner of self-love to another.” He said it with a sympathetic smile and not a trace of a blush, but Leah reminded herself that the man did have a PhD in some obscure branch of psychology. She wondered how he ended up teaching a class on dreams for an obscure adult education program, but that was a thought for another time.

She continued. “What I do feel guilty about is … well it always feels like there’s a disconnect, you know? Like maybe if I’d let you finish punishing me, if I could have slept through to that point, then maybe I could dream better, you know, do it right, see what’s supposed to happen next.” She quickly added, “I know that sounds absurd, like dreams are a series on TV and you can get them in a box set once the season finishes.”

He chuckled at that, but made no comment. For a moment they sat in silence with him nodding his agreement. Then he cleared his throat, once then again, and tugged at his open shirt collar. “I sometimes feel like if I could just stay in the dream until after the punishment then, I don’t know, then something really important would be revealed, if that makes any sense.”

“Me to!” She scooted her chair closer and lowered her voice, ‘like if I take my punishment, the reward will be the best dream ever. I suppose that sounds silly, because how can a dream be a reward? But that’s how it feels, that I can’t get to the dream, the really important dream, until I can make it through the punishment. Do you think maybe I should try some lucid dreaming techniques?”

“Wow! I see that you have read way ahead,” he said. “While many people find lucid dreaming an intriguing possibility, and I always encouraged my students to play around with lucid dreaming, it’s been my experience, even when I have a lucid dream, even when I’m aware that I’m dreaming, I’m never able to exert any control.”

“I had a great aunt who used to make a tea of valerian root, passion flower anise and several other Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_bherbs whenever she wanted prophetic dreams.” She gave a little shrug. “She was Wiccan back before it was cool, and she was a bit scary at times.”

He chuckled softly. “Magic mushrooms, hallucinogenic drugs, vision quests, all those sorts of things, are often tools used for enlightenment. Certainly forms of physical abuse, deprivation, fasting, even flagellation, were all in an effort to reach the divine or the deeper self. Do you think we’ll find enlightenment if we get through our punishment dreams, Leah?”

“Maybe just the perfect orgasm.”

“Well who wouldn’t want that?” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

There was another silence, and more staring down at their feet, then he looked up at her. “Perhaps it’s all the same thing.”

When she only offered a blank stare, he rubbed his palms against his trousers and squared his shoulders. “I mean your aunt took a mix of herbs, some people take drugs, others take beatings, but all with a similar end in mind.”

“So?”

“Leah,” his gaze from beneath the glasses felt almost physical, “you said you knew a little bit about BDSM. Do you know what subspace is?”

Leah felt her pulse jump. “I know a little, what I’ve read is all. Isn’t it sort of the altered state where submissives go in their heads, sort of a separation from their bodies after prolonged pain or pleasure?”

He nodded still holding her gaze.

“You think that our dreams are trying to get us into … the equivalent of subspace to access the mega-dream or whatever it is?”

“It’s a possibility, isn’t it? I mean we never get there in the dream and we always wake up unsatisfied with the distinct impression that we would have understood if we’d only stayed with it.”

“And what about the notes?” She said. “They seem to be saying just the opposite. They seem to be assuring us that we’re doing it right, and yet we get nowhere.”

“But a part of reaching that altered state is letting go. We both come back from the dream because we’re so desperate for an orgasm. We don’t stick around long enough to get to subspace or whatever the dream equivalent is. I took a meditation class once and the instructor told us that the more we think about getting it right when we’re trying to meditate, the less likely we’ll ever actually meditate. There’s something about letting go, about giving up expectations and giving oneself over to the experience. I understand that subs give over the control of their orgasm to their Doms, and that they can maintain that state of heightened arousal. That the orgasm isn’t the end all, but a part of the whole journey, and sometimes not even that. Of course my knowledge of BDSM is limited,” he added quickly.

“But isn’t that what falling asleep is essentially — the giving up of control to the unconscious?” Leah gave an embarrassed little laugh. “I’ll admit I find the spanking both arousing and frightening, but I want what’s at then end of it, not the spanking itself.”

“But what if you didn’t? What if you decided just to go along for the ride? What if you were to go deep into the spanking, the experience of the sting, of the pain, of the tingle? What if that in itself was the whole of the experience you were looking for? Then what?”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know how to do that, does it? For me, it’s never been
a lucid dream. I never know I’ve dreamed until I wake up. I suppose we could try herbs. I’m not comfortable with drugs. There’s hypnosis, maybe.”

“I know a psychiatrist who does hypnotherapy. It might be worth a try,” Al said. “Let me talk to him.”

 

Dr. Derrick Clyde was a big man, several inches taller than Al and much broader of shoulder. While Al had a lean endurance athlete’s build, Dr. Clyde could have been a body builder. He was deep-chested and, though he wore a sports jacket when they met him in his uptown office, there was no disguising the man’s physique.

“Let me get this straight, the two of you want me to hypnotize you to stay in a recurring dream, a recurring, kinky, erotic dream until it finishes so that you can both have some mega-dream that you
believe will follow if you take your punishment?”

“That about sums it up,” Al said, patting Leah’s hand reassuringly. “I know it’s a strange request, but –”

“All right,” Dr. Clyde cut him off at the pass. “I’ll do it.” Before either of them could offer their thanks, he raised a hand. “I’ll do it on one condition.”

“Which is?” Al shifted on the sofa and his spine stiffened.

“That you tell me about these dreams first.” Again he raised a hand to silence their protests. “If I’m going to hypnotize you because of such an unusual request, if I’m going to hypnotize you for any reason, I want to know and understand as much about the circumstances as possible before I do it. If anyone would know this, you would, Al.”

Leah didn’t miss the twitch of the muscles along Al’s jaw in response and the sudden rush of color to his cheeks, but he said nothing, only squared his shoulders and offered a nod of agreement.

“Good.” Dr. Clyde offered his best analyst smile and glanced down at his watch. “I have a free hour now, if that would work.”

“Now?” Leah said. “But we won’t be going to bed for hours,” then she blushed. “I mean I won’t be going to bed for hours. I don’t know what time Dr. Foster goes to bed.”

To this, Al sniggered and Dr. Clyde shot her a quirk of a smile. “Oh that won’t matter. I’ll just give each of you a word you say when you turn off the light and crawl into bed – at whatever time that may be, in whatever location – and the word will represent the command that you stay with the dream until it’s finished.”

After the uncomfortable experience of rehashing the dreams again, while Dr. Clyde listened and nodded without comment, they both got comfortable – as comfortable as possible under the circumstances, seated at opposite ends of Dr. Clyde’s Cordovan leather sofa and, the next thing Leah IMG_5339
knew, the psychiatrist snapped his fingers. “All done,” he said when she gave him a confused look.

“Seriously? I don’t remember anything,” Leah said, feeling like only a second had past. “What about the word?”

“Don’t worry, it’s all right there.” He gently tapped her temple with the tip of his index finger. “The suggestion should help you stay in the dream until it reaches its natural conclusion. It won’t keep you asleep if, for instance the phone rings, there’s a knock on the door or the smoke alarm goes off. It’s designed only to work under normal REM sleep conditions. From what you’ve told me, something in the subconscious is keeping both of you from finishing the dream, and while I think that you’d be much better doing a few sessions of therapy before we do try hypnosis, you’re not my clients and I have no reason to think either of you unstable. And besides,” he offered a broad smile. “I’m way too intrigued not to be curious about where these kinky dreams are leading.”

 

In The Flesh Ch 37: Dark Paranormal Romance in Progress. Enjoy!

In the Flesh 11880534_1463650103936599_545702979581425574_nIt’s Friday! Time for chapter 37 of In The Flesh, in which Michael gives Susan a break.

There’s only one more episode of In The Flesh left, so be sure to mark next Friday on your calendar for the big finish!

In the Flesh  is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

 

 

Missed Out on Any of the story? Follow these links to IN THE FLESH so far:

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13Part 14Part 15Part 16, Part 17Part 18Part 19Part 20Part 21Part 22Part 23Part 24Part 25 Part 26Part 27Part 28Part 29, Part 30Part 31Part 32Part 33Part 34, Part 35, Part 36. 

 

You can also read In The Flesh on Wattpad.  

 

In The Flesh Chapter 37

“Talia said this is where you’d be.” Michael sat down next to me on a rock in the last of the afternoon sunlight. “She also said Alonso doesn’t know you’re here.”

“I got tired of everyone watching me like I might explode or my head might start spinning in circles. I had to get out of there.” I nodded to the cavern behind me. Alonso’s still worried about my tolerance of sunlight. That’s why I’m here in the mouth of the cave. If I suddenly smell burning flesh, I’ll make a dive for it. Where were you?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as pouty as I felt. “You left in a hurry.”

“I’ve been home making a few arrangements.”

“I see,” I said, but I didn’t. I didn’t see at all. I thought after last night we’d reconnected and made everything right, that after last night we’d stopped pushing each other away, and yet it felt like Michael couldn’t get away from High View fast enough after the Guardian revealed himself. I suppose I couldn’t really blame him. It was bad enough to watch your girlfriend become a vampire, but a vampire with a resident demon was surely a bridge too far – even for an angel.

“I had an important delivery,” he said. “And I had workers coming to help install the blackout blinds. I 2015-09-04 16.16.05 HDRdidn’t want to put it off any longer.” Before I could do more than offer a surprised glance, he continued. “I was trying to make the house more vampire-friendly back before I knew you could tolerate sunlight.” He shrugged and looked down at his hands folded in his lap. “I had to do something constructive or go crazy when you … when you wouldn’t let me near you. Anyway, I suppose all that’s irrelevant now, but the blinds had already been paid for and they seemed like a good idea – you know, just in case you do suddenly smell burning flesh.” He stood and offered me his hand pulling me to my feet. “Come with me, Susan. Come back to my place with me. I want you to see what I’ve done, but mostly I just want you to myself. Oh I know you’ve got to spend time with Alonso, and I’ll make sure you’re back first thing in the morning. It kills me that there are things the vampire can do for you that I can’t, but at the end of the day when he’s finished your lessons, I want you in my house. I want you in my bed, in my arms, and I don’t want to wake up with half the vampire menagerie and a gorgon poking their noses in the door to see what we’ve got up to during the night.”

“Alonso won’t like it and neither will Magda,” I said.

“I don’t care. Do you?’

I squared my shoulders and huffed out an exaggerated breath. “Nope! I’m sick of caring what everyone thinks is best for me. I’m not a child, and I’m tired of being treated like one. Let’s go.” When I tugged him back toward the cave, he shook his head. “I know a short cut to the Jeep. I parked it off the property so we could sneak away. They won’t even miss us.”

“Of course they’ll miss us,” I said. “We can’t even sneeze without someone knowing.”

“Well then they’ll surely appreciate a few less sneezes around High View.”

It was just a walk across the meadow and then we were heading down Honister Pass, and I was away from High View for the first time since my new life had begun. We didn’t talk much. There seemed less need to now that we bore each other’s mark. That he wanted me to be with him, that he’d planned and prepared, even hoped when things weren’t looking very promising, that was enough for now.

At his house, there had been several changes, but the most obvious was the Las Vegas-style blackout blinds in Michael’s bedroom, just inside and above its lovely French doors. “I guarantee no sunlight will touch your alabaster skin through those monsters,” he said stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. “I know it’s not an issue under the circumstances, but just in case. And the basement, well I can have it made up any way you like if you’d feel safer there – you know a study for you to write in, a library. I’ve even drawn up plans to have the basement loo turned into a nice bathroom with a spa tub. We can even move the bedroom down there if you want — just to be sure.”

P1020199“Alonso’s the worry wart, not me. I believe the Guardian won’t let anything happen to him and therefore he won’t let anything happen to me either.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t know that before this morning, did I? So that really didn’t figure into my plan.”

“Your plan.” I sat down on the edge of the mattress, feeling weak kneed all of a sudden. “Michael, are asking me to move in with you?”

He sat down next to me and folded my hand in his. “You can’t go back to your old life, Susan. You’ve burned all the bridges in a major way.”

“Writing and being a vampire aren’t mutually exclusive,” I said. “In fact, under the circumstances, no one would know the difference even if I worked side by side with them — not unless I got hungry and decided to have a little sip from one of my colleagues.” Then I thought about my tiny closet of a flat in Brixton that took the lion’s share, and then some, of my income just so I could live alone, and –technically live in London. The truth was, I didn’t want to go back. The truth was I couldn’t help feeling excited about the life ahead of me now, even as the thought terrified me.

“That’s not the point.” He gave my hand a squeeze. “You belong to the Consortium now, and Magda will want to keep an eye on you. I reckon she’s already making arrangements to have your flat lease terminated. She’ll want you to stay with the vampire until he teaches you the ropes, though what that means is up for question now that you’ve become prison warden for the Guardian.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Oh Magda will find you a fantastic place, I have no doubt. She always does, and I know the vampire would keep you there as long as he could, but …”

“Michael, I’m not a charity case. I can bargain and negotiate for myself. I want to hear it from you. Do you want me here, or do you feel obligated because … well because Magda sent you to steal me.” I made quote marks around the word ‘steal’ with my fingers. “If you’re doing this out of — ”

Michael stopped my words with a kiss that felt as hungry and as voracious as I felt when I fed, pulling meBernini Hades and Persephone close uptumblr_lg4h59T3z31qe2nvuo1_500 tightly to his chest, to the pounding of his heart, quite literally pulling me onto his lap. And for a moment, I forgot what the question had been. I forgot what planet we were on as his hands skimmed my back and then moved up to cup my head, stroke my hair and hold me close. When he pulled away breathless, he shook me slightly, as though he were trying to wake me up. “How can you even ask such a question, when having you with me is the one thing I’ve wanted for more lifetimes that you can imagine? Of course I want you here! I want you in my arms when I fall asleep; I want you in my arms when I wake up; I want you like the air I breathe, all the time, Susan! All the bloody time! If you don’t want to live here, if you want a place in which you’ve had a little more input in the choice and the decoration, that’s fine. Anywhere you like. Just say the word. I just want you, that’s all. I just want you.”

I stopped any further conversation with a single word of my own, a word which I breathed into his mouth and pressed deep onto his hard palette with my tongue. “Yes! Yes,” I repeated again and then again, as I pushed him back onto the bed and straddled him. After that it was a long time, a very long time, before either of us spoke again.

Long toward midnight we dozed in each other’s arms, and I dreamed. I dreamed of following a trail of blood, sparkling like a path of rubies on the snow. I followed the drip, drip, drip like a trail of breadcrumbs over the fells and into a deep tangle of woods. I followed it to the entrance of a cave, I followed it deep underground to a candlelit chamber where shadows danced like phantasms against the stone. There it ended in a stain on the cave floor that looked inky black beneath the pale body of a man curled on his side, face toward the wall. Before I could see who he was and if he still lived, there was a groan deeper in the cave beyond the play of candle flame. When my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw another man chained to the wall — arms spread wide, shoulders slumped, bare back sheened in sweat. It wasn’t until then that I saw the third man, only a silhouette that, try though I might, my dream vision could not resolve. “I’ve been waiting for you, scribe,” he said softly, and his voice crawled over my skin like I’d walked through a heavy spider’s web.

St Martha's Hill 3I woke with a jerk to find Michael raised on one elbow watching with concern. “Bad dreams?”

“Strange dreams.” I moved to lay my head on his chest and told him in as much detail as I could remember, unable to shake the feel of spider webs over my skin.

When I finished, he kissed the top of my ear and let out a slow even breath. “Do you think it was because of him – the Guardian?”

“I don’t know. Possibly. I mean there was a man chained in a deep cave, but nothing was very obvious, if it was about the Guardian. And why would there be three men?” I shrugged. “It probably should have been a nightmare, but even though I was in it, I watched it all from a distance. It didn’t feel like a nightmare. I don’t know what it felt like. Yes I do. It felt … almost prophetic. But then again, it was just a dream,” I added quickly, embarrassed at such a ludicrous idea.

“Have you talked to the Guardian since your first surprise visit?” he asked, his hand moving down to stroke my back.

“No, but I will. I mean I have to. He lives inside me, and that’s a real head job – even though I was prepared for it, or as prepared as I could possibly be. He’s right; the situation will take some getting used to for both of us. I can’t help but feel there are things he could tell me, things he could teach me. Whether he will or not, I don’t know, but the one thing I do know is that he’s intrigued by our situation. Very intrigued.” I decided not to add that I was too.

Michael lifted my chin so that our eyes met in the darkness. “Susan, it’s dangerous to trust him. You know that.”

“He’s with me twenty-four-seven now, Michael. I can’t ignore him. There are just things I need to know. I would feel better about our situation if I could discuss a few ground rules and ask a few questions. I just can’t believe that if I say nothing, ignore him, as he’s said I could, for the next however many years I have ahead of me, that he’ll be blissfully quiet. Clearly he doesn’t trust Magda. Not that he would have any reason to. I get that,” I gave a dismissive shrug. ‘But if I now belong to her, as it appears I do, if she wants me to do some nebulous work for her that has something to do with my abilities as a scribe – whatever the hell that means, well, I can’t think it’ll be a waltz in the park. I have … options – way more options than I had when I first came to Manchester to see Annie. And because of the Guardian, I have even more options than I would if I were just a vampire. I also have a whole new life – a double life — that I haven’t begun to understand yet, and like it or not, the Guardian is a permanent part of it.”

He pulled me on top of him and hugged me until I groaned. “All right, whatever it takes, whatever you feel you have to do, I’ll be here. You gave me back my life, Susan. You gave me the chance to share it with you, a chance I thought I’d lost forever. I’ll take that on whatever conditions I have to – vampire, demon and all. All I ask is that you don’t try to bear it all alone – what’s ahead of you, what the future holds. I know Magda, and I can help you deal with her. I know the Guardian probably better than anyone. Certainly I’m the only one who’s lived to tell the tale except for Annie, of course, who was just his pawn. And I know Alonso and his familiars. Everyone is quirky. Everyone has an agenda of some kind. I’m no different. But I know that all of us, everyone associated with the Consortium, we all want what’s best for you.” He curled a finger under my chin. “But I’m the one who loves you, Susan. I’ve loved you forever, and that’ll never change, no matter your choices. I want to be a part of your life. I want to be there to help you deal with whatever comes next. But mostly I hope that I can be there just because you want me by your side.”

I pulled him close and buried my face in his shoulder, next to the thudding of his pulse, resisting the urgeIn The Flesh 2 12006311_1476805985954344_6570546160088833292_n to lick him there possessively. “Of course I want you by my side or I wouldn’t be here in your bed right now. Maybe I haven’t loved you forever, but I promise you, I got around to it as soon as I possibly could
under some pretty trying circumstances, and like you, I’m not planning on going away. Will that do?”

He kissed me fervently and offered a smile that warmed me to the core, which always felt slightly chilled now that I was a vampire. “That’ll do, Susan. That’ll do just fine.” With that, he slid up into a sitting position, bare back pressed against the headboard. With what had become a rather expert flick of his nail, he opened the flow of his heart’s blood to me and pulled me close. As I fed next to the steady beat, beat, beat, even knowing how uncertain the future was, I felt happier than I could ever remember feeling. If Michael was with me, if we were together, then it would be all right. Deep in my chest in some nebulous place, I sensed the Guardian waiting, waiting to see what his future would be. Our uneasy truce, our sudden change of circumstances reminded me again that my uncertain future might be a lot of things, but it would most definitely not be boring.

 

In The Flesh: Ch 36: Dark Paranormal Romance in Progress. Enjoy!

In the Flesh 11880534_1463650103936599_545702979581425574_nIt’s Friday! Time for chapter 36 of In The Flesh, in which Michael, Alonso, Magda and all the rest must learn to live with Susan’s permanent house guest.

There are only a two more episodes of In The Flesh left, so be sure to mark Fridays on your calendar, and don’t miss out!

 

In the Flesh  is very dark paranormal erotica. When Susan Innes comes to visit her friend, Annie Rivers, in Chapel House, the deconsecrated church that Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend changed, reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover whom she claims is god. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human, and even worse, he’s turned his wandering eye on Susan, and he won’t be denied his prize. If Susan is to fight an inhuman stalker intent on having her as his own, she’ll need a little inhuman help.

 

Missed Out on Any of the story? Follow these links to IN THE FLESH so far:

 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4 Part 5Part 6Part 7Part 8Part 9Part 10Part 11Part 12Part 13Part 14Part 15Part 16, Part 17Part 18Part 19Part 20Part 21Part 22Part 23Part 24Part 25 Part 26Part 27Part 28Part 29, Part 30Part 31Part 32Part 33, Part 34, Part 35

 

You can also read In The Flesh on Wattpad.  

 

 

In the Flesh Chapter 36

“What the hell are you doing?” We both yelled at the same time.rose images

“Are you crazy? Get off me!”

To which he responded, “are you out of your fucking mind?” In spite of my efforts to buck him off, he held me tightly beneath his body, smothered head to toe in the duvet.

“What’s going on? You two are supposed to be in the basement?” I heard the door crash against the back wall as it flew open and Reese burst in with Talia right on his heals, both talking at the same time.

Then I was airborne, hefted over Michael’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, with Talia shouting, “Get her out of here! Get her out of her! Get her down to the basement, goddamn it! What the hell were you thinking?”

“I woke up and she was opening the shutters, standing right there in the sunlight. I’m serious.” Michael gave the door an angry kick shut that rattled my teeth.

“What the hell do you mean, she was standing in the sunlight,” Reese was saying. “She can’t stand in the sunlight. She’s a fucking vampire.”

“Put me down, damn it! Michael put me down.” No matter how much I shouted and wriggled they all ignored me.

“I swear it’s the truth.” Michael said.

“Put her down,” there was sudden silence in response to Magda’s voice that rose above the din, and I found myself unceremoniously deposited on the hard stone floor, wriggling frantically to get out from under the duvet. When I popped my head out, remembering I was naked and quickly snatching the fabric to my breasts, I found myself in the heavy stone corridor, the only light being from the electric sconces on the walls. I was surrounded by Reese, Talia, Magda and a very naked Michael, who knelt next to me and grabbed my face in his hand, turning it from side to side before I slapped him away.

“What the hell?” I said in response to all eyes on me.

“You were standing in the sunlight,” Michael responded, his voice trembled slightly and he swallowed hard, and for the first time, I realized how frightened he was. Then it all came rushing back to me, and I felt faint.

“It was him.” I managed, my voice none too steady. “It was the Guardian.” Suddenly everyone was silent and the air around me smelled of nervous adrenaline and more than a little bit of fear. “I was dreaming of sunlight and when I woke up the room was hot. I didn’t even think when I opened the shutters, not until he said that while he might be my prisoner, he refused to live in darkness.”

No one was willing to take my word for my immunity to sunlight, so Talia brought our clothes out of the dark moon image_xl_6338206

room for us – Michael not being willing to leave my side, and once we were dressed we all traipsed to the basement to where Alonso paced his study like a big cat in a cage. When he saw me, he pulled me into his arms, and both Michael and Reese bristled. Ignoring them completely, he stepped away just enough to take my face in his hand, turning it from side to side. “No damage?”

I shook my head, or at least tried to, but he held me firmly.

“You didn’t feel anything at all? No burning, no rash, no unusual heat?”

“I only felt what I would have felt before you changed me – the warmth of the sun on my face. Honestly, I didn’t even think about what I was doing until I heard the Guardian’s voice in my head and felt him move inside me as though he were trying to get comfortable.”

“And you think this was his doing?” Alonso asked.

“Oh for fuck sake, darling girl.” The Guardian spoke inside my head mocking Alonso. “Who else does he think it could possibly be? Are all vampires so dense?”

“It’s him. I’m certain,” I said, gladly taking the chair that Magda pushed under my arse just in time. “What did you do?” I asked the Guardian? “How did you protect me from the sun?” Everyone leaned close as though they expected a Regan moment straight from The Exorcist.

“First of all, you don’t have to speak out loud for me to hear you. I’m inside you, remember? Secondly, I’m indestructible, as far as I know. Therefore it only makes sense that my prison is protected by my presence.” He chuckled softly. “Believe me, my dear little Scribe, the irony of that is not lost on me.”

“Is he talking to you? What the hell is he saying?” Michael said.

I opened my mouth to respond, and in my head, I heard — almost felt — the clearing of the Guardian’s throat. “If you’ll allow it, little one, I can use your voice and save the tedious translation.” With the sense of my reluctance, he gave a little huff of indignation. “I am your prisoner, Susan, not the other way around. I can do nothing without your permission other than protect you, for to protect you is to protect myself. You may banish me to the silent depths of your unconscious mind for all of eternity and there I would be forced to remain, for you control the vessel that is my prison. You may silence me or seek me out at your will, but I would advise seeking me often and silencing me seldom, for I promise you that with the plans that bitch of a Gorgon has in mind for you, you may well find my help most useful, indeed.”

With a sense that I was somehow mentally laying a hand on the Guardian’s shoulder just to silence him 2015-06-30 11.27.42for a second, I spoke to those around me. “He’ll use my voice, and he’ll answer any questions you ask.” The second part was a definite command, and I had a definite sense that, though he bristled slightly, the Guardian took me at my word.

“How do we know he’s telling the truth?” Michael asked.

“Oh my darling, angel, it cuts me to the quick that you could doubt my veracity when I have pleasured your body and seen your innermost workings.”

Michael jumped back at the sound of my voice, only slightly changed, and yet unmistakably not mine. He nearly fell over Talia who, for once, wasn’t seeing the humour in the situation as she placed a hand on his arm to steady him. The Guardian smiled at the incident, a smile that no one but I could see, a smile that told me well he would make the best of his situation if I allowed it. When I gave him a silent warning, he offered the equivalent of a shrug, and then he continued. “I swear to you, I can tell no lies before my jailor. For you see, in truth I have at last achieved what I most longed for, flesh to house my intellect, my desires, a body to give me boundaries through which I may experience the world. Granted I did not expect that when I found a worthy vessel it would belong to a vampire, but then one must be careful what one wishes for, mustn’t one?”

“What do you want?” Alonso asked.

“What I want is to be free, but as far as prisons go, this one is by far better than the last, and I think the scribe shall find me a model prisoner.”

“Can you harm her in any way?” Michael asked, then he quickly added, “can you harm anyone?”

“I can do nothing of my own accord, and I assure you I am completely at the mercy of my jailor and the vessel in which I now reside. I can neither possess her or use her in any way, though I am at her beck and call, and she may use me as she sees fit.”

“So we’re supposed to believe that suddenly you’ll completely bend to Susan’s will in every way?” Magda asked.

A chuckle escaped my lips, and I felt almost like I’d suddenly belched rudely in public, to have laughed at Magda Gardener. “My options are to do absolutely nothing, to basically not interact at all with my jailor and the outside world she commands through the body which she inhabits, or to do as she asks and play as much of an active role in her existence as she will allow. I would think that would please you greatly, Gorgon, knowing your plans for her.”

2015-07-19 20.19.25“You don’t know my plans for her,” Magda answered as calmly as though the two were chatting over coffee.

“I can refuse to aid her, it is true. I am her prisoner, not her slave, but it would benefit me little to sulk when I was beaten fair and square by minds far less capable than my own.”

“Then the conditions of your imprisonment are mine to establish,” I said.

Fuck! It was like talking to myself. “Of course,” came the reply. “I would imagine we shall both take some getting used to, and you most certainly will be very preoccupied while your vampire teaches you how to exist as you now are.”

“Why didn’t we hear from you sooner? Why were you quiet?” Michael asked.

“I was, I suppose you could say, sulking. Also, I had neither been summoned nor was there any need for me to interact until an explanation became necessary for our little vampire’s astonishing tolerance for sunlight.”

Just then Cook arrived pushing a trolley laden with breakfast treats, and without thinking, I tore into a fresh croissant and had it half devoured before I realized everyone was staring at me. My response was his, over a shower of crumbs. “Oh of course she can eat food! She can eat it, and it will not harm her. She may even enjoy it if she chooses. How else shall she be able to interact believably with mortals? That is what you need, isn’t it, Gorgon?” Magda bristled but before she could respond, he continued. “However the food she eats will not nourish her. Nourishment, she can only get from blood, but since I am here for the long term, I would prefer to enjoy the taste of something other than … body fluids.”

“So she has the best of both worlds then?” Talia said.

“She has the body of a vampire with all that entails. She has the enhancements that one such as myself can give her – an attempt to decorate my cell, to make myself more comfortable, if you will. And of course, she still retains her own creative powers as a Scribe. Goodness me, our little Susan is very nearly the perfect being.”

Both Michael and Alonso growled, and this time there was an internal clucking of the tongue. “They are a possessive pair, your men, are they not, Scribe?”

That was for my ears only and I responded with an internal, “you have no idea!”

“I shall leave you all to your breakfast,” he said, once again using my voice. “Susan has only to summon me.”

“And will you be eavesdropping?” Michael asked.

“My dear angel, I am where I am. As I have said we will all have to get used to each other, and before you growl at me, I would remind you that this was the Scribe’s choice, her plan, and in all things there are consequences. She knew that and willingly took the risk. That being said, may I also remind you that you live and breathe because of her choice?” And just like that, he was gone. I had the feeling one has when one wakes up with a jerk in the middle of a dream of falling. For an instant everything went slightly out of focus, and when it came back, all eyes were still on me, and both Michael and Alonso were kneeling in
front of me.

“Is this what you were expecting to happen, Susan?” Alonso’s voice was now inside my head.

“I don’t know what I expected,” I replied.In The Flesh 2 12006311_1476805985954344_6570546160088833292_n

“Speak out loud so we can all hear, Vampire, or shut the fuck up,” Michael said. When Alonso looked at him with a raise eyebrow, he shrugged. “You’re not the only one connected to her.” He gently laid his hand above my left breast where, not only had he fed from me, but his mark thrummed stronger than ever against my heart, and I knew my mark on his chest did the same.

“I do apologise,” Alonso said, coming to his feet and moving back to stand by Reese. “It is often my custom to communicate non-verbally with those who belong to me.” Michael growled at that remark and Alonso smiled an internal smile that only I could see. Then he added in his best conciliatory tone. “But you are right. Now is not the time for secrets. I only wish to ascertain if our Scribe is unharmed.”

Before the testosterone pissing could start in again, I spoke up. “I’m fine. I’m just … well it’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”

 
© 2018 K D Grace
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