turned away from the children. She was interested in more adult entertainment anyway. So she took Jason’s hand and together they walked. They ended up on the beach, the people and the background melting away as they can in dreams. She didn’t care. All that mattered was the man beside her.
“I understand your choice,” she said. “You were probably right to stop us before.”
“Christy,” he said, the word half worship, half desperate longing.
She touched her fingers to his lips. “This is a dream, Jason. And here, I can do what I wanted to before. Here, I can give you some little release because you won’t let me in real life.”
“I wanted to. I wanted you,” he said against her fingers.
“Shh,” she whispered as she pulled her hand back so she could kiss his mouth. “Let me do this. Because I really want to.”
She stroked her tongue across his lips. He opened for her and they played together like that for a bit. His arms wrapped around her and she gloried in his strength. But soon, she wanted more and so she broke from his arms.
“Don’t move,” she said. “Not even a little bit.”
He tilted his head, his brows arched in surprise.
“My dream. My rules.” Then she grinned at him. “Parade rest, soldier.”
“I’m a marine, Christy.”
“Oh, right. Parade rest, sailor.”
“Aye-aye,” he answered. Then he widened his stance and locked his hands behind his back. She stepped back a bit to admire him. His broad shoulders, his golden skin over washboard abs, and his wonderful erection. Clothing was strictly forbidden in her dream.
Now she could kiss him at her leisure, wherever and however she wanted to. His mouth, his chiseled chin, and his neck were first. But she quickly went lower, glorying in the ripples of his chest, the tight bud of his nipples, and the way his heart thundered beneath her lips.
He tasted like sunshine and strength to her. Like every stroke of her tongue brought forth sparks of bright light that tingled in her mouth. And when she swallowed, she brought his lightness into herself, letting it warm her body and electrify her blood.
The strength came from her, though. Because in this dream, her joints were normal and movement was easy. She could do as she willed with him, without fear of spending days in aching stillness on her bed. And better yet, as she used her most powerful body, she could bring this god of a man to quivering lust. She could make him weak with hunger until he collapsed at her feet.
At least that was her plan, and so she set about doing it with leisurely skill.
She kissed down his belly, nipped at the tattooed bird on his hip, and then inhaled deeply of his musk as she finally got to stroke his erection. She was on her knees now before him, but it was a ridiculously easy position to hold. One glance up at his face told her his breath was coming in ragged pants and his eyes were burning for her.
“Christy—” he began, but she shook her head.
“Not a word, not a move, Jason. Not until you collapse at my feet.”
“But you don’t have to—”
“I do,” she said.
He took a deep breath, his chest expanding. And then as he exhaled, she felt his buttocks tighten and his body ready itself for her. Then just before she took him in her mouth, he said something that stopped her cold.
“You don’t have to do it clothed, do you? You can give me a peek, can’t you? Even if I can’t touch.”
She blinked, startled that he would ask such a thing in her dream. Her attention had been on what she was about to do, not on how she looked. But he’d made her think of it, and so she complied. Better yet, since this was a dream, she could perform acrobatic feats that would be impossible in real life.
“Very well,” she said. Then she rose up before him. She was dressed in her usual yellow sundress. Nothing fancy, but this one had a zipper in back. It was a simple matter to reach behind and slowly pull down the zipper. And then she let the dress drop off her shoulders to pool at her feet. Even in dreams, she wore a full support bra and panties. Though this set was made of black lace that stood out against her stark white skin.
“You have the most gorgeous body,” he breathed. “Great breasts, and your waist is perfect. And turn around. Please turn around. I’ve been staring at your ass for two days now and all you’ve worn are skirts or loose shorts. Let me see it for real.”
She straightened, surprised by his words. Had he really been looking at her butt? Really?
She stood before him, slowly stretching her arms above her head. She watched his eyes flow over her breasts and he licked his lips. Slowly she turned around, but twisted enough to see his face. Damn, his eyes definitely dropped to her bottom.
“Permission to touch?” he asked.
She grinned. It was thrilling to have a man look at something other than her oversize breasts. “Granted, sailor.”
His hands found her bottom immediately. And though he’d gotten to her fast, his caress was anything but. He stroked slowly over her hips before cupping her ass. Just to see how he’d react, she slowly bent over.
He groaned, and the sound seemed to travel straight from the depths of him, enough to make her arch.
“Christy,” he whispered, and she felt him step forward.
She leaped away because here she could do that without wincing. “Back into position, sailor!” she cried.
He froze, and the look on his face was comical. “But—”
“My dream. My rules.”
He frowned at her and returned to parade rest. But he seemed downright confused as he shook his head. “I must have a really twisted subconscious.”
She smiled and returned to facing him. “You mean my subconscious, sweetie.” She popped her bra and pulled it away. His eyes practically bugged out of his head. “And why wouldn’t I want to dominate a ripped marine?” She hooked her thumbs under the straps of her thong and shimmied it down.
His penis twitched as she moved. She knew he was holding himself back, but his gaze all but burned her wherever it touched. And it did touch her everywhere.
“I take it back,” he said. “My subconscious knows exactly what I like.”
“Really?” she said as she teased him. “Does it like this?” She lifted her breasts, one in each hand. She began to knead them, pretending to get herself really hot. Except, of course, it wasn’t pretend. Especially as she widened her legs and began to stroke herself. She’d never done that in front of a man. Couldn’t even imagine doing it anywhere except for right here. Right in front of a man who could overpower her in a second, but chose—by her command—to keep himself absolutely still.
She didn’t come. That wasn’t what this dream was about. And though she was definitely worked up, she wanted to touch him. So she eventually
