Page 13 of Beneath the Desert Bloom
His breath stirred the fine hairs on her neck, and her body arched up instinctively, pressing against his touch, forcing him to make contact with her skin. When his thumb grazed the peak of her nipple, electric pleasure moved through her like a shock. Her hips bucked. Her clit throbbed so hard she gasped.
And just as her body bloomed with ache, just as her hips began to lift, hungry for more, the dream fractured.
The stars dimmed. The sky warped.
She blinked. And saw him.
It wasn’t the version she knew. Not the towering, bark-skinned myth who haunted her edges.
But a man.
He was kneeling in the sand. Naked. Beautiful in a quiet, human way. Broad shoulders, strong arms, hair falling into his face. Dust streaked his back, his thighs, his hands. He wasn’t glowing. He wasn’t golden-eyed.
He looked tired.
He pressed his palms to the earth and bowed his head, whispering something she couldn’t hear.
The wind held its breath.
Then, the ground opened beneath him.
Roots split from his back. His mouth fell open, not in pain, but in surrender. There was no scream. No sound. Only light.
His chest lit from within, and where his ribs should have been, bark bloomed.
She gasped.
And the vision shattered.
She was back in her body, flat on the ground, sweating and burning.
His hand traced the slope of her breast, just enough to make her gasp. His breath warmed her skin.
She didn’t move. She couldn’t.
She felt the ache between her legs intensify, her hips lifting again of their own accord. Her thighs parted. Her body opened.
Still, he didn’t touch her there.
Instead, his fingers skimmed the soft curve of her hip, the crease of her thigh, the inside edge of the place she needed him most.
And then, just before he touched her, he spoke.
His voice was low, like distant thunder rolling through canyon stone.
“I remember…”
The sound echoed through her bones. Through the sand. Through the space between stars.
Then, softer, sadder:
“You are her.”
She whimpered. Her body trembled.
“Please…” she whispered, dream-drunk, not knowing what she was asking for.
She didn’t know what she wanted. She only knew that she was on fire with it. Her breath came in shallow bursts, her chest rising and falling too fast.
