Page 15 of Of Mercury and Mist

I was headed for the couch when I saw a bottle of wine and two glasses on a sideboard. After I popped the container open, I poured some of the red liquid and settled on the sofa, facing the fire, with my legs tucked beneath me. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back, allowing the warmth to wash over me and just enjoy the dream.

Suddenly, something brushed my neck, and I startled, nearly spilling my drink. It was whisked away from me before I dropped it and I held perfectly still, squeezing my eyes shut. The touch wrapped around me, cupping me, and I didn’t dare move a muscle.

“Ashley,” I heard a voice. “You’re here.”

I’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was bad enough being screwed with in real life, now I had to deal with the devil in my dreams. Was there no rest for the weary?

“Get out of my dream,” I said.

I fully expected him to disappear. Everyone knew you could order the monsters in your nightmare to go away. We all learned that at a young age, taught by our parents. Considering the number of bad dreams I’d had as a kid; I knew the tactic my mother instilled in me was effective.

My eyes opened and he was still leaning over me. “No,” Micha said, blowing my childhood lesson to smithereens.

Right now, he didn’t look nearly as threatening as he did in the office. He was softer, somehow, less intense. It didn’t feel like his eyes would laser me into the floor.

His hand pulled away and he circled the couch, stopping directly in front of me.

Micha was dressed all in black, with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and the top couple buttons of his shirt undone. His hair hung loosely around his head, except for where he’d tucked it behind one ear. I spotted a couple earrings—a diamond stud and a small gold loop. He had rings on some of his fingers, decked with dark-colored jewels. None of which I remembered seeing before.

“You’re wearing jewelry,” I said. “Too bad you didn’t in real life.” I’d only ever noticed the occasional watch that probably cost more than my whole life.

That included my organs, if I chose to sell them on the black market.

“You’d really eat my heart, wouldn’t you?” I asked, remembering what he’d said before. There was no harm taking out my frustration on him with antagonistic questions when he wasn’t real.

Micha frowned lightly and stepped forward, lowering himself to the cushion beside me. “I’d devour you, if I could,” he said.

“I’m too crunchy. Lots of bones. And I eat junk food; you’d be poisoned instantly. A lot different from that fancy, organic grass-fed shit you and Josiah and Della eat.”

The man was too close for my comfort. I could practically feel the hunger emanating from him. Desire vibrated all around, almost visible in the air as if it were a living, breathing entity. My leg started shaking, as my anxiety physically manifested. Everything felt charged with electricity. Micha placed his hand on my thigh, holding it in place, and then he started massaging the muscle.

Warmth coursed through me, under his touch, traveling through my veins and lulling me into deep relaxation. His efforts moved higher up my leg and the heat began centering between my legs making me more and more pliable. A heavy fullness gathered in my groin, dampening my underwear and I grabbed his hand, stilling it.

He was too close for comfort, and this was all much too weird. We hated each other—we didn’t turn each other on or have any physical contact, did we? I needed him to back off; I didn’t want to let him in.

He froze when my palm pushed at his chest, and I glanced up. He met my gaze, his own full of mercury and mist, swirling all the colors of an incoming thunderstorm. A warning was buried there, beneath the allure, evidenced by the narrowing of his eyes and the stiff set of his jaw. He didn’t want to stop having his way with me.

Micha slid his hand along the silk of my nightgown, fondling the soft fabric, before he squeezed my thigh. He switched his touch from one leg to the other, caressing and massaging. I felt like a work of art. Admired, revered, and marveled at. His focus was intense and the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world he wanted.

His lips parted on a sigh just before letting go and his grasp moved to my hips. My breath was trapped in my lungs and my heart hammered beneath my ribcage.

Before I knew what had happened, he had me flipped onto my back... and then he tore the front of my nightgown down. I was stunned. Was this what I wanted? It must’ve been. I wasn’t making any moves to stop him, entirely wrapped up in his touch.

Micha lowered his face and kissed my chest, sucking, licking, and nipping at my breasts. He shivered a moment while he lavished his attention on me and I threaded my fingers through his hair, holding him against me.

I’d missed the moment where this became okay, where I wasn’t terrified of him, and wanted to be close to him. It’d all changed in an instant and I grappled for the familiar disgust and hatred, but it was frustratingly out of reach.

Would he worship my body like this in real life? Was this thetrueMicha or just what I wanted him to be right now? A pang of sorrow suddenly stung my heart, dismayed this was only a dream. To have a man this obsessed with me was merely a figment of my imagination.

The ministrations ceased and I caught my breath. He sucked in a deep inhalation when he pulled me even closer and next, I felt the deepest, sharpest agony I’d ever experienced as his teeth pierced my skin and sank into my chest. The pain was so intense my vision flashed white. I must've cried out, but I couldn’t hear anything, any noise being overruled by my agony.

Micha wouldn’t move no matter how hard I pushed; he’d latched on with a leaden grip. His tongue flicked my nipple before I heard the distinct sound of swallowing and then the hurt transformed into something else.

It was as if I were floating, endorphins and dopamine flooded my system, elevating me. The pain had completely melted away, overtaken by a novel sense of bliss. It was as if his mouth had a direct line to every pleasure center on my body.

Any screams I may have bellowed quickly changed to moans while I convulsed beneath him. He grabbed my ass, tugging me flush while I held on for dear life. After a moment, he withdrew and a sharp sting had me letting go of his head and slapping him, my nails getting caught in his hair.

He looked up at me, irises glowing like the moon, and I saw his teeth. Two razor sharp, long and thin tools dripping with blood.My blood.

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