“Reylor.”
Her voice was gentle and caring. Soft though distant.
“Hm,” was the only response he could muster in his sleep-like state.
“It’s time to wake up, Reylor,” the sweet voice whispered as a hand caressed his brow.
“Mm, I am awake. I’m awake,” he lied as he rolled over in what he assumed was still his bed.
“No, Reylor. It’s time to wake up!”
The change in the tone of her voice was enough for his eyes to open and his body to bolt upright in bed. The area around him was bright, and he rubbed at his eyes, squinting until they adjusted. Once he was able to look around, he discovered he was no longer in his own room at all, but instead a luxurious room that appeared to house only pillows and blankets.
Remembering the voice that called to him, he quickly looked around for its source.
She was closely lying next to him, seductively lounging in all of her goddess-like glory. She rested her temple on her hand as she lay next to him, her other arm gracefully resting on her slender hip. Her body was covered in a white silk slip with thin straps, leaving nothing to the imagination as to what was waiting underneath. She watched him with dark doe eyes while waves of luxurious auburn hair cascaded to the bed beneath her. She was utterly breathtaking.
“Who are you?”
She smiled in response as she ran a gentle hand down his bare chest. It was only then he realized he was completely naked with only the blankets to give him any privacy, and his attraction to her was suddenly becoming painfully obvious. She made no mention of whether she noticed as her hand rested on his bare stomach.
“You know who I am, Reylor.”
He did, and it frightened him.
“You’re the Empress.”
She nodded. “But you can call me Alexstrayna.”
“Alexstrayna,” he repeated. It was a name as beautiful as she was. But he suddenly shook his head. “No, this isn’t right. Why are you here? Why are you talking to me?”
She giggled at his confusion as she brought herself to a sitting position, clutching her knees to her chest.
“And what’s wrong with a little conversation?”
“Because I’m not the one you should be talking to,” he declared as he sat back, bringing the blankets closer around him for additional coverage.
Her laugh was like bells. “Says who? Plus, this is your dream, my lord. You summoned me.”
“That’s impossible. You’re meant for Treyan.”
“Ahh, yes. Your Prophecy. I suppose this does put you in quite the conundrum, doesn’t it? Whatever will your brother say when he discovers you’ve already seen his beloved? That is, of course, if you tell him…”
“Of course I’ll tell him. This isn’t right. None of this is right!”
Her laughter seemed mocking as she rolled over to face him, now on all fours as if she was a prowling feline. Slowly she climbed over his naked body, paying no attention to his reluctance or physical readiness. Reylor froze, uncertain as to what to expect from this woman. It was only a dream after all.
She stopped as her hips rested upon his, as naked underneath the gown as he was under the sheet.
“Reylor,” she whispered as she settled upon him. “The only thing that’s not right is your inability to do what you want.” She began to gently grind herself against him through the sheet.
The sensation was going to drive him mad if he allowed it to continue any longer. “I am doing what I want,” he assured her through clenched teeth.
She cocked her head to the side. “Oh really?” She leaned her body over his, bringing her face nose to nose with him. Her dark eyes penetrated his as her breath was warm upon his skin.
“Then take me.”
He blinked. “What?”
She smiled seductively. “If you’re doing what you want, then show me. Take me. Make me yours.”
“No, I can’t…I won’t. The Prophecy—”
“Oh yes, you can.”
She took his face between her hands and locked him in a kiss. As if a man possessed, he wrapped his arms around her and flipped her onto the bed. Unknown demons within him seemed to wake at her touch, and before he realized what was happening, the sheet and gown both were shed between them.
M. Dalto 