Page 3 of The Rejected King
Either way, he felt more content than he had in the past two years. This was precisely the kind of dream he needed to take his mind off everything.
It was only a moment before sleep took him completely.
Emree
The first signsof dawn came through the window, but Emree ignored them, keeping her eyes closed. She didn’t want her dream to end. Portlend held her with a tenderness that she craved. Everything about his chiseled body against hers felt right.
Portlend had never been this muscular, but Emree wasn’t complaining about the creative liberties her mind had taken with Portlend’s body.
No, sir.
She was enjoying them.
The dream had made things perfect.
Her mind had conjured up only the best for this dream. Dream-Portlend had an exquisite six pack.
Emree’s hand traced up and down each sculpted curve of his chest.
Delightful.
He pulled her closer to him, and his fingers tickled her bare arm.
Amazing.
Now, if only she could squeeze a kiss out of this dream before she woke up completely. She tilted her head up to where she imagined his face would be. She could feel his breath on her lips. Slowly, she pressed her lips to his. They were full and soft and oh so tempting. In real life, when she and Portlend had kissed, things were proper, appropriate. But in Emree’s dreams, none of that applied. She deepened the kiss, passion building in a way that would have her mother red with embarrassment.
Wow. This dream was incredible. Thiskisswas incredible.
She grabbed Portlend’s body, turning him towards her. His mouth matched her intensity, and his hand went into her hair, tangling it between his fingers.
Too incredible.
Too real.
Her eyes flew open, and Emree screamed. At least, she tried to scream. Her voice was lost to fear, the scream coming out hoarse and raspy.
This wasn’t a dream, and this man definitely wasn’t the dream version of her boyfriend, Portlend.
Emree swatted at the stranger’s body with furious hands, one after another. She scooted backward even while hitting him until she fell off the bed, the weight of her body crashing down on her backside. Her scream was still lodged in her throat even as she looked frantically all around her for some sort of weapon.
The man jumped out of bed wearing black undershorts. Thankfully, he wasn’t completely naked. He didn’t look like a typical intruder. He was clean and handsome...and confused. His light brown hair stood up in all the wrong directions. His knees were slightly bent, and his fists were out in front of him like he was ready to fight. He looked over her crumpled form on the ground with wide eyes.
He had come to take advantage of her.
“I’ll put up a fight!” Emree shouted, scrambling to her feet. She picked up a wicker chair that sat against the wall and held it out in front of her. It was surprisingly light. She didn’t know if it would make the best weapon, but it was all she had.
“What?” His light brows furrowed together.
“I’m warning you. If you touch me, I will fight back.”
The man looked at his surroundings before his eyes registered back on her. His posture relaxed, and he dropped his hands to his sides.
She flipped her dark hair off her shoulder with the jerk of her head. “Who are you? Why are you in my room?”
“Your room? No, this is my room.”
Emree scoffed. “I checked in last night at dinner, and you weren’t here.”
