Page 26 of Empowered
Chapter 7
She knew she was dreaming. Yet as many good dreams go, the person dreaming doesn’t want to admit that it’s a dream at all.
In Sarah’s case, nobody could blame her for refusing to wake up.
Part of it was embarrassment. A little bit of shame. Because she dreamed of Lucas Blackbourne having sex with her right there in her bedroom.
No context. She didn’t need context. This was her brain’s way of making sense of what happened with Lucas and what was continuing to happen with him in her life.
Yes. That was it. That was her excuse. Dreaming about him fucking her in the most damn primal way.
“Do you like the way I take you, Sarah?”Damn her brain for echoing her real name. She was supposed to be Angel, damnit! Lucas did not fuck Sarah. He only fuckedAngel. “Do you always crave my cock like this?”
She groaned, that sound echoing in her head like a siren going off over and over again. A warning siren.
But dreams were supposed to be harmless, right?Right?
“Yes.”Sarah didn’t want to admit it in real life, and she could barely admit it in her mind.“Fuck, yes, I want it.”
Only in a dream could a man be everywhere and doing everything at once. Depended on what Sarah fantasized about at any given moment, she supposed. Of course, her favorite instance was when he fucked her with crazy abandon, her hands plastered against his strong, broad chest and clinging to his powerful shoulders. His hips slammed forward until she felt nothing but his cock plunging into her with rapid-fire precision.
“Do I fill you up? Do I make you whole again?”
“Yes…”
Sarah awoke to a shadow in her doorway. Sweat dripped down her forehead, not from the fever of a virus, but the fever of arousal.Damn me.She both wanted to go back to her dirty dream and to run away from her sweat-covered sheets.
“You okay?”
Nigel’s voice was like a punch to her forehead. “Yeah. What are you doing here?”
He entered. The darkness of her room couldn’t hide the familiar way he walked to her bedside. Neither of them hesitated over his getting beneath the covers and turning toward her. “Went to the bathroom and heard you moaning like you were in pain.”
You have no idea.“Where’s Carly?”
“Asleep.”
“In your room?”
Nigel snorted. “Of course.”
“She won’t care if you’re in here with me?”
“Why would she care? You’re my sister. She doesn’t think it’s like…”
Neither of them ever said the I word out loud. How could it be incestual to find solace in her brother’s arms? To cry in his presence? To use nothing but her eyes and a blip off her lips to tell him how everything was wrong? People didn’t understand. They grew in the womb together. They may not be identical twins split from the same egg, but they still shared a kind of bond that was unrivaled in every other area of life. They were closer to each other than they were their best friends andparents.Which said a lot, because Elizabeth Brown-Clayborn was fiercely protective of her twins.
“You having a bad dream?”
“Not really. Just vivid.”
“Is it because of that guy today?”
Now that was what sucked about having a twin. The bastard was too perceptive for his own good. Sarah probably revealed her tells when they were two gestating ovum. “Maybe.”
“He causing you problems?”
“No.”
