Page 73 of The Shadow Fae Rhapsody
I press my lips tight and shake my head.
“Nel…” he calls to me again, coaxing me for the truth.
“You feel like him. You even taste like him.” I sob.
“Then what does that tell you?” he asks almost tenderly, kissing my tear-drenched cheek. “Hmm?”
I blink at that.
Does this mean he is Svenn?
I level a hard stare at the man who looks so much like my husband. His face is only inches away from mine.
It’s becoming unbearable to just look. I need to touch. I need to feel.
I wrap my hands around his neck and kiss him.
My heart swells in my chest as his tongue dances with mine in a lazy dance.
He smells so good it’s muddying my thoughts for a moment. I love how I can kiss him freely here. There’s no hesitating, wondering if he is disgusted or suffering from my touch because I’m a curse bearer. I can have him all to myself in this dream.
I didn’t plan on loving to kiss him so much. Now I can’t stop.
He pulls away and I know what will happen next. The knowledge doesn’t stop the little gasp coming out of me when he rips the upper part of my nightgown, or the cry of delight when he rests his length on my belly.
It’s massive, hard, just like the rest of him. My eyes almost bulge right out of my skull at the sight of it.
But wait—that’s not how I rememberit. I’ve seen him dozens of times, making love to Dream Nel. Did he just grow bigger than before?
“It’s too big,” I protest.
A slight smirk lifts his lips. “You flatter me, Nel.”
“Make it smaller,” I demand.
He throws his head back and laughs. “You say the weirdest things, little fawn.”
I push against his hard abdomen. “Get—get that thing off me.”
“That thing?” He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You can’t even say the word ‘cock’, can you?”
I glare at him for that teasing tone. Relief and disappointment wash over me all at the same time when he removes it.
He lifts my face with his fingers under my chin. “Look at me.”
I do as he says.
Sometimes this dream version has these moments when he feels exactly like he’s my Svenn. The tender thought shatters when I feel the bulge of his length nudging in between my thighs against the slickness there.
“You said to remove ‘the thing’ from your belly. I assume you want it somewhere else,” he says, rubbing and sliding it over my wetness slowly until I’m writhing.
He leans down, his eyes stare intensely into mine. “Do you want me to stop?”
Hell no.
I’m surprised that the cruel version of Svenn would even ask. My heart is still hammering hard but the fear from earlier has slipped into a thrill.
Maybe it’s that tender look, or maybe it’s that comforting touch. Maybe I’m just desperate for any semblance of Svenn. I wrap my hands around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss.
