Page 58 of Grave Matter

“Don’t look at it.” Kincaid’s voice is rough and commanding in my ear. “Don’t do anything unless I tell you to.” He runs a hand down my spine, from my shoulders to my ass, and it takes me a minute to realize he’s wearing a glove. He brings his hand back up and then presses my head against the table.

“Stay completely still,” he says gruffly. “Don’t fucking move an inch, don’t fucking make a sound, or you’re going to bed with your hands tied, your swollen cunt begging for it.” He leans in, licking up the rim of my ear, making me shiver. “Then again, I do love it when you beg. I think your cunt does too.”

He pulls back, and I keep my eyes closed, my face pressed against the table. Cold air caresses the back of my thighs, and I hear the smooth sound of leather being whipped out of his belt buckle. I have no time to brace before?—

CRACK.

The belt comes down across my ass, a sharp, sweet pain.

I yelp, unable to help myself. I feel electric, alive.

“What did I just say?” Kincaid growls. He reaches forward and makes a fist in my hair, holding my head back, mouth at my ear. “You disobedient little slut.”

I squeeze my thighs together, trying to relieve the ache.

He immediately reaches between my legs and parts them.

“I’m going to take my fill of you now.” He reaches back, and I feel the head of his cock press against where I’m open and wet. I can’t help but move my hips, wanting him, needing him in deep.

“Please,” I beg him.

But nothing happens.

Suddenly, he’s no longer behind me.

I’m no longer on a table.

I’m on the goddamn floor in my room, practically writhing on the rug.

What the actual fuck?

I roll over and stare up at the ceiling, catching my breath.

Another goddamn dream.

But how did I end up here on the floor?

I sit up. The way my body still pulses tells me I came in my sleep again.

I can’t tell if these dreams are intensifying my attraction to Kincaid or helping in some way. Maybe I can keep my distance if I keep getting what I want in my dreams. But getting off on the floor of my room is next-level weird shit.

I get to my feet, unsteady, feeling a little embarrassed, even though no one saw me.

Though I kind of wish Kincaid did.

With him in mind, I go to my window. The alarm clock says three a.m., never the best hour to be awake, but maybe he happens to be on bear patrol.

But when I look out the window, I don’t see anyone at all. Just the moon filtering through the trees, making the ground look like it’s covered in shards of light.

There’s a knock at my door.

Quick and light.

I freeze, ice trickling down my spine.

Fuck. Not again.

Not again.

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