Page 2 of Monsters of Desire and Nightmares of Passion

“I, I….” I found myself at a loss for words, stumbling over my own thoughts.

Tendrils of darkness that looked like thick tentacles wrapped themselves around my dress and slipped under it, pushing my panties aside, teasing me. They stayed outside of my aroused pussy, tempting my already swollen lips, making me move and try to capture them in search of friction. My clit throbbed and hardened under his teasing.

His hand rested on my back. I felt his claws growing and pushing into my flesh, hard enough to make me very aware of his presence yet tender enough not to hurt me. This was Draw. He rarely wanted my blood.

His lips moved closer to my ear without even touching me, making me gasp in the hope that he would do the unthinkable.

“I can make you feel good, if you let me.”

“Uhuh.”

“I need more than that. I need you to tell me what you want.”

“Make me feel good.”

As his lips moved away from me, his hand pulled mine over and rested it on his hard, big, throbbing cock. I desired nothing more than to feel him all the way inside me, stretching me beyond my limits, making me gasp.

Everything else became secondary. The rush, the fear that someone could catch us, made my heart beat like crazy inside my chest.

He stood up from his chair. His form turned liquid again, or, at least, it was the way I perceived it. Grey and thick, black smoke that felt hot to the touch slipped under my skirt. A pair of lips, full and soft, landed on top of my panties, blowing hot air inside me and making me gasp. I pressed the edge of my chair with my fingers. Next, his fangs touched my panties without penetration, making me aware I was playing with a deadly creature that could rip me to shreds any second. He was dangerous, and he wanted me to be aware of the danger I was in.

The wave of heat he caused was undeniable. A claw raked over the inside of my legs, from my ankle up to my knee, until it reached my panties and cut them off. The eager mouth touched my pussy lips. The clawed finger traced my inner lips and pushed my clit like a button. A shy gasp escaped my mouth, and my eye fluttered.

That claw was so sharp. It could have cut me in two, but it moved slowly, eliciting every drop of desire. My juices dripped on the tongue that flicked my entrance.

“You are so delicious and juicy.” The voice whispered into my ear without showing itself. His presence surrounded and engulfed me, protecting and threatening me at the same time.

The clawed finger plunged hard and fast inside my opening, getting sucked in as his tongue flicked and played with my clit. The hand under my skirt fucked me. It did not take long for the waves of the orgasm to hit me. I rolled my hips. I tried to hide my hard breathing and the need to call out to someone, to share my orgasm with the world. The song of the soprano hid my own gasp and the small moans I tried to swallow.

He appeared next to me, a wicked smile across his lips. This creature, this man, was the devil himself, and I loved to offer my soul in exchange for the pleasure he could provide.

“You are mine, Ivy. Mine to fuck. Mine to possess and mine to torment. Don’t forget that. We only torment the ones that set our bodies on fire and create magic inside our mind.”

His words raked my soul. There was sadness in the way he spoke. His fiery red eyes glowed in the darkness of the opera house. I wanted to find out what hurt him, pull it out of his soul and tear it to pieces with my teeth, make it go away.

But I woke up again.

This is the frustrating part about my dreams. I’d wake up feeling as if there was so much more to experience, so much more to enjoy.

A long time had passed since I ceased being afraid that I was losing my mind. I found myself in a phase of my existence where I went with the madness. My delirium was not created out of images of fear. It was a puzzle made of moments of intense passion, so beautiful that nothing that I could ever expect to experience in real life would measure up.

I kept on reading. There was another dream I often had, even though the setting changed. I was a voyeur who got her kicks from others’ pleasure.

I was inside a small space like a dressing room. I could hear moans and hitched breaths from the room next to me. I pulled the chair closer to the wall and climbed onto it, needing to find out what was going on.

The faces were not always the same, but the feeling was. I always believed there was something so hot and incredibly seductive about two men making out.

A delicate young man was in there, no older than me, and with beautiful eyes with sadness in them and long lashes. He was pressed against the wall by a man always almost feral looking. The lips of the larger man touched the younger guy’s neck, kissing and sucking. Large, calloused hands moved over his athletic body, pushing his shirt aside, pressing the young body against the wall.

I always knew that the young man was Mrez, and the other was Draw. I don’t know how I knew it. I just did. It was one of those things I was as certain about as the fact that my heart beats and I need oxygen to breathe.

“Yes. Bite my neck,” the younger one would whisper as his shirt got ripped open and his muscles stood there to be admired. A light plum of soft, blonde hair covered his chest. It looked so delicate. I wanted to reach over and feel it.

Draw would keep touching him, working for his calloused hands all over the young man’s body, pinching his delicate nipples until he took a sharp breath between his perfect white teeth. The moment Draw started to massage the young man’s genitals through his jeans while claiming his mouth had me pull in a sharp breath. My hand slipped under the waist of my jeans and into my panties.

I was so wet just from watching them.

Draw opened Mrez’s pants and pulled them down. The young man’s hard cock jumped up like a weapon of war, ready to run havoc or provoke pleasure.

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