Page 36 of Their Blood Queen

I inch down, which removes the delicious pressure from my clit but brings me close enough to run my tongue over his weeping slit.

The flavor of peaches and cream isn’t what I expected when I tasted this figment’s cum—but it’s my dream. Why can’t cum taste like a dessert?

Hungry for more, I lick again, earning a warning growl from the beast.

An insane part of me likes to taunt him, to test these boundaries I’ve created in my mind.

Maybe he’ll turn on me and devour me.

Maybe not.

All I know is that I want more.

I slip down and grab his cock with both hands, then try to fit it into my mouth.

It’s almost too large, but I manage it. He groans as more of that delicious peaches-and-cream mixture spills down my throat. It keeps going until I can’t swallow any more and I cough on it, making it run down my cheeks and onto my chest.

“Wicked little nightmare,” he says, but it sounds more like a compliment than an insult. “I should have made you come first, but now I’m going to make you come on my face.”

I yelp as he scoops an arm around my back, then yanks me up with him. He flips onto the bed, then easily uses both hands to lift me onto his face.

I reach out for something to hold on to and find the headboard. I grip it as he runs his tongue over my throbbing core.

“You taste like peaches soaked in wine,” he says, which takes me out of the moment.

That’s almost what he had tasted like to me—which makes sense. This is a dream. I’m just reflecting what I want in him.

Still, when he pushes his massive tongue just into my entrance, I suck in a breath.

He doesn’t go further, even though I want him to.

He said he wasn’t going to take my virginity.

It’s just a dream. What does that matter?

I push my hips down, demanding more of the delicious sensations that make my entrance spread and burn, but he wraps his fingers around my hips and stops me.

He holds me still as I grapple against his fingers, but he doesn’t give me a chance to protest. His tongue laves me, pushing at my entrance while simultaneously stimulating my clit.

It’s enough to force me over the edge.

“Cain!” I scream, not sure why I use the name he gave me.

When I know this isn’t real.

The climax that shatters through me doesn’t care what’s real and what’s not. My entire body bends to the pleasure, my spine arching as I throw back my head and let the ecstasy rule.

A crash causes me to fall, and then everything shatters like glass. Pain shoots through me, making the pleasure seem like a distant dream as I slam back into my body.

Groaning, I find my body still fully clothed, and my thumb has turned blue where my notebook’s leather rope had been hooked on it.

The notebook that is now on the ground, the impact of it falling having woken me up from my nightmare.

If that was a nightmare, I want to fall back asleep right now.

Carefully, I wobble out of my chair and wince at a sting of pain that makes my dress stick to my stomach. I pull up the hem, then stare at the blotch of blood just above my navel.

There’s nothing that could have cut me. But the blood is there and so is the stain on the inside of my nightgown. I fumble with the silk and stretch it out, staring at it as I blink a few times while trying to decide if this is real.

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