Page 26 of Hollyhocks

Fitz sits up fast, flipping on the lamp sitting on the nightstand. “Hello?” He scrubs his eyes with his large hands which I imagine would engulf me in all the right ways. “Is someone there?” His fingers press against his lips, confusion pinching his eyebrows.

I move from the side of his bed to the bottom, staying close to the wall so he can’t see me. He looks so fucking good half asleep. The brown strands of his hair stand up in every direction. He seems to be fighting sleep and reality as he scans his room.

I’m here, Doe Eyes. You aren’t alone.

The blanket is just covering his cock. I can see the lighter part of his thighs that don’t get enough sun, and they look so soft, so smooth. His abs flex and his bicep casts its own shadow on the blanket as he lifts his arm to reach behind his back to scratch his shoulder.

My tentacles slip free from me, stretching out in need for him. They drip with arousal fluid. I won’t be able to wait for him. I’m going to have to invade his dreams to get what I fucking want.

“Get your shit together, Fitz,” he says to himself, flipping the switch on the lamp to turn the light off.

He lies back down, one hand over his head, the other lying on his stomach, and I stand there in admiration while I witness the gift of him falling asleep. Only when his breaths are quiet and even, do I step out of the shadows.

I flap my wings until I’m barely off the ground, inching my way over his sleeping form. I hover above him, appreciating the defined line of his jaw. I bring my mouth to his ear and say the words that allow me to enter his mind.

“Let me give you the sweetest dreams.” The statement is delicate and soft, my succubus dying to get inside his head.

I want to force him to dream of me. I’m going to bombard him every night. Soon, he’ll be so in love with our dreams, all he will want to do is sleep so he can see me.

His body relaxes even further and his eyes open, clouding with a light purple hue now that I’m in his mind.

“Let me see what you’re dreaming about.” I kiss his lips again, lowering my body onto his. I don’t have to worry about him waking up as long as I’m in his mind. “Show me, Doe Eyes. Bea good boy for me. Let me in,” I call out to his soul. “Where are you? What are you wanting? What can I make come true for you?” I lick his earlobe before sucking it into my mouth.

I sit up, straddling his lap, grinning from ear to ear when his dream includes me. I don’t cloak myself. I reveal who I really am. This is a dream, after all. Anything is possible.

We’re standing on the side of the road where we met. His dream is sweet, replaying the moment we first met.

“Mmm, but I want so much more, Doe Eyes.” I open the van door and slip out of the driver’s seat.

“You are fucking beautiful,” he says loud and clear, but under the influence of my power. “I’ve always wanted someone like you.” He grips my horns in the dream and in real time, his hands barely move.

He drags me toward him, kissing me with a ferocious vigor that I would not expect from him. He’s so kind and sweet. His eyes seem to light up in a way when he talks to someone who isn’t seen anymore.

Right now, his light brown eyes are ink-filled pools. The pupils are blown with lust, leaving no room for the golden flecks of his irises to show. In the dream, he slams his lips down on mine, and I can’t help but take advantage of it in real-time.

He is laid out for the taking and what kind of monster would I be if I didn’t take advantage?

Sliding my hand up his chest, I tweak his nipple along the way until I palm the side of his neck, kissing him as if I’ve been waiting my entire life for his lips on mine.

I suppose I have in a way.

Our tongues slip together as the kiss deepens. In the dream, Fitz slams me against the car and strokes my horns.

I can feel that. I can feel the callouses of his hard-working hands sliding up every ridge. I whimper into his mouth, and he groans in return. I wish he could move. Invading dreams isdifferent for all men. Some can move and even act out every motion while others are still.

At least Fitz can speak and kiss me. His kiss alone is an experience I needed if I ever died, then I would live in death in ecstasy.

He pushes me down to my knees in his dream and I break our kiss, dragging my lips across his jaw.

In the next dream, I’ll control his thoughts, but this one was already set up just how I wanted it.

“Fuck. Oh God, you feel so fucking good. What are you going to do to me? Don’t make me wait.”

I silence him with my tail, slipping the tip between his lips. He moans, sucking and nibbling, stroking it with his tongue, and it has a direct line to my tentacles. They become crazed, each sucker dripping with my arousal, drenching his sheets.

My tongue shifts into a thicker tentacle, suction cupping to the side of his neck to leave a mark. He arches his back off the bed and yet in the dream he slams his hand on the roof of the van, his self-control spiraling.

I lick down his chest, kissing his left and right pec before sucking his nipple into my mouth. I tug on the chains attached to my nipple piercings, wishing it was his hands that were controlling how much pleasure I felt.

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