Chapter 6

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Warning: sexual content ;)

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You wake with a gasp, the images in your mind curling like ink through water before fading in front of your eyes. I can't believe I dreamt of him...dreamt of him...doing that...I need help.

And it'd been so real, so detailed as if someone had planted the memory into your brain and you were calling it back to the surface. Even now, the images are still there. Faded at the edges but recognisable. The way his hands slid over his stomach, the sound of him gasping, pressing himself into the pillows, the thin sheen of sweat coating his skin as he'd reached orgasm. It was a private moment that you'd been ashamed to be watching. But as the seconds had ticked on, embarrassment had turned to interest, and interest had settled down deep into your belly to pulse reckless desire into your bloodstream.

You'd watched him...and wanted him.

How could a dream conjure such feelings? It just didn't make sense. I'd never had a dream like this before. It's as if the scent of him is still in the air around you. That if you close your eyes again, he'd be there. It's completely ridiculous.

However, the wetness coating the inside of your thighs says something else.

You take a deep, steadying breath. Outside, the sky is still dark and penetrating—meaning it must still be very early. You know you should sleep, there'll be much to do in the dim light of the morning, but every time you close your eyes, Loki's face is right there, his lips hot against the shell of your ear.

God...why am I torturing myself with this? I barely know him!

He's attractive and strange—his personality so different to every other man you've ever known around here—or who has ever come to the camp. But is that reason enough to feel this way?

Your pussy pulses as the image pings back into your mind—the image of him, contorted in the sheets. And you arch involuntarily, your calves flexing as you roll your hips. "Fuck," you groan out loud, pulling the blankets up and over your head to hide your embarrassment. I'm just turned on from the dream, that's all. It could've been about anyone...it didn't need to be him...I just need...I just need to come...

I just need to come and then I'll forget about him...

...right?

As if anticipating your surrender, the spot between your legs throbs desperately—your hand shaking as you mimic Loki's actions, sliding your fingers across the smooth skin of your stomach. His long fingers pop uninvited into your mind, joining the slow journey towards your opening legs.

"God," you whisper into the heavy silence. You're already so, so wet...your clit full and waiting as you skim a fingertip over its sensitive surface. "Fuck..."

Each time you try to push Loki from your mind, he returns—the image of him growing in detail and intensity with every gentle sweep. You turn your face to the cooler part of the mattress, clenching your hand between your legs to try to think of anything else. Anyone else.

But it's useless.

The images are already there from the dream. They're exactly what you want. Unfiltered, unwelcome...but so fucking delicious, you can't stop it.

Your lips part as your legs do—a gasp making its way past as you press your fingers harder, your back arching upwards as your knee falls to the side. The image of him, trailing kisses up the inside of your thigh, worms its way inside your mind and refuses to budge, leaving sparkling heat with every slow brush.

"Loki..." you hear yourself gasp, the sound strange but pushing more force into your circling fingers.

With your second hand, you clutch your breast before sliding it downwards to join your first. And as soon as you dip your fingers inside your wet pussy, your eyes fly open, meeting the dark underside of your blanket...as well as Loki's grinning face.

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