When Andy starts a complex and steamy love affair with her new boss, she discovers there's more to his arrogant facade than she originally thought.
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Having secured her dream job at Kelex, a company she's long admired, An...
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There was this strange feeling that I wasn't alone in my bed that lingered. It was still dark outside, and although I could barely see the inside of my room when I looked down, I couldn't miss the massive form under my duvet, leveled with my legs. Someone was in my bed with me.
How did this happen? I wondered. Because of the tequila shots and the beers, everything was foggy and confusing. Still, my mind managed to reach the only plausible conclusion. I was dreaming.
It felt incredibly real, though, and as a result, I jumped a little when a hand gently reached for my ankle. I waited, almost paralyzed, for the hand to do something. With a tender touch, it slowly drifted up my legs, its thumb grazing the inside of my calf, leaving on its path the impression that my skin was on fire. Another hand joined the first one, following the same route on my other leg.
When they both reached halfway, at the same time, they clasped my knees and firmly pushed them apart, spreading my legs. Oh, I was having a wet dream, wasn't I?
As I moved under the cover, I realized I was naked, which never happened. I never slept in the nude. But it was fitting, given the dream I was having.
The form moved, lowering down slightly, and I wondered who it was my brain had conjured. After having had an evening pressed against Oli, I had no doubt my subconscious had taken him as an inspiration. And, we had even kissed. The first attempt had been awkward and clumsy, but the second try had proven much more satisfying. Better than any kiss I'd experienced so far, even.
Yes, this must have been Oli under my covers, summoned in my dreams by my inner desires. This was good. If my subconscious thought of him that way, it meant the rest of me was close to reaching the same conclusions.
My thoughts were cut short when a warm mouth reached the inside of my thigh, right above the knee. My dream was so realistic that I could even feel the light scratch of a stubble, scraping my skin.
If the hands had been setting me on fire before, it was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. The playful mouth laid a line of open-mouth kisses, letting me feel its wet tongue, nibbling at my skin, moving with determination toward my core. My back arched, spreading my legs further. My insides clenched, my folds already drenched, begging for attention.
Wet dreams rarely occurred to me, and I didn't remember ever being so conscious during one of them. This semblance of intimacy I'd shared with Oli, after nine months of celibacy, had awakened my touched-deprived body. My affection-starved heart was growing impatient as well, and they both demanded satisfaction by taking control of my dreams.
I didn't want to fight it. I wanted to allow my unconscious brain to guide it, to take it wherever it wanted.
The mouth almost reached my needy flesh, but it didn't settle there. Instead, it jumped to my other legs, giving it the same treatment, going down to my other knee. I let out a frustrated groan. Even in my dreams, I couldn't have things easy. When I tried to move my hands, to guide the head where I wanted it the most, my arms felt heavy, almost as if I had been tied.
