Kathryn doesn’t know it, but we have a date that evening to round out these BDSM festivities.

“All right.”

If she had asked to have sex anyway, that may have swayed me to make love to her. Except she didn’t ask that, and I didn’t think she would.

I clean up in the living room as she gets ready for bed in my bathroom. The faucet runs. She brushes her teeth and washes her face. She’s adorable in her shirt and shorts, the ponytail swishing back and forth as she dries her face with a small towel.

My hand brushes against her ass as I approach the sink. She stiffens. “Why don’t you go turn down the bed while I freshen up in here?”

She glances at me in the mirror. A flash of “Why don’t you go jump off a cliff?” is in there, but I ignore it. Be feisty, Kathryn. That only makes it more fun when I finally fuck you.

By the time I finish in the bathroom, Katie has completely turned down the bed and is about to get in her side by the window. Before she put her knee on the mattress, however, I say, “Take off the shorts. And the underwear.”

She stops, glaring at me, saying nothing. In time, she slips off, putting her thumbs in the elastic of her cotton shorts and shoving them toward the carpet. The underwear goes with them, until she’s completely bare from the waist down.

I’m also in a T-shirt and boxers, my usual fare for sleep when I’m not going naked. I turn off my light and climb into bed, inviting her to join me.

She probably wonders why I asked her to get naked down below. She doesn’t ask, however. Yet I give her a short spiel about wanting to feel her skin against mine as we sleep.

I mean… there’s a lot of truth to that.

I also am a man with a lot of kinky plans.

Chapter 7

KATHRYN

Sex dreams don’t come to me often, but when you’ve been denied sex by a man like Ian Mathers, you’re gonna dream about fucking somebody.

Guess who is in my sex dream. Hilariously enough, it’s not Ian. No, it’s the guy from The Dark Hour. The one Nova walked away with and got to intimately know against a wall.

Apparently, I thought he was hot.

“Kathryn,” he says with a purring accent. “Let’s go away, you and me. I’ve got a private jet. Anywhere in the world. Brazil, Singapore, Tahiti… what is your poison, my beauty?”

I’m putty in his hands, my giggles piercing my own brain and my body begging him to fuck me. I don’t think it has anything to do with the man himself. I could be dreaming about any hot guy. All that matters is that my brain has nothing to do with Ian right now.

Ew, Ian.

“That’s right, precious kitten.” The man strokes my cheek and brushes his hand against my hard nipple. “Don’t think about that man. Think about anyone but him. It’s time you try on a new Dom for size.”

A new Dom.

Hey, sleeping-sex-dream Kathryn is all about getting her a new Dom to try out everything she knows on.

The man lures me down onto a couch, his breath hot against my skin. Fingers roll against my nipples. My legs are parted. Kisses cover my shoulder, my back, my cheek. His weight is pushing against me, his cock thick and hard as it rubs along my ass.

I see daylight.

My eyes are slowly opening, the handsome foreign man disappearing from my dream. I’m still awake – sexually, anyway. My body calls to be touched.

And it is.

There are hands on me. That wasn’t a dream. Neither were the kisses as they pepper my skin and roll into my ear.

Ian.

It’s God-fucking-knows-o-clock, and Ian Mathers is rubbing against me in bed, his cock about to penetrate me.

“Shh,” he says, clasping his hand over my mouth. The other cups my breast, rolling my nipple between forefinger and thumb. My unclothed pussy is wet, and I don’t know if it’s from my sex dream or from Ian manipulating me in my sleep.

My God.

This was in that letter he sent me. “You will be available to me at all times of day. Even when you’re asleep.” Boy, I guess so. I remember thinking the idea was hot, but didn’t think he would actually do it.

I very rarely have morning sex outside of some fingering and oral. Actual sex with a man’s cock is usually out of the question, because who wants to deal with that waking up?

Apparently I do.

This should be against everything I hold dear as a woman. Namely, my bodily autonomy. Did I tell Ian it was okay to awaken me with sex? Inadvertently. Was he going to have sex with me while I was asleep? Well, he said he might. Do I want to know the answers to these questions?

Yes. And no.

I don’t think he would have done something so heinous. Not only because nothing about his previous behavior says otherwise, but also because he’s only going for it now that I’m awake.

The dream world. Reality. Who knows which one came first. Was I having a sex dream because Ian was stimulating me in bed? Or was I already horny as fucking hell because I thought I was going to have sex last night and then didn’t at all?

Furthermore, who the fuck cares?

Coming out of a dream world means I’m existing on the border between illusion and reality. Everything my body feels is absolutely real. However, it’s amplified by my sleepy mind, a mind that is quickly awakening thanks to the hand silencing my moans and the other hand squeezing my breasts and rubbing the inside of my bare thigh. My senses are heightened. I can barely believe this is happening, since it still feels like a dream.

His breath against my skin. His quiet groans in my ear. The way he presses against me from behind, his hands grabbing everything, keeping me silent. The rest of him getting ready to take me and use me any way he pleases.

“You will be available to me.” I really am his doll.

I don’t care.

It’s not a joke when I say this is fucking hot. Maybe it’s my sleep-addled brain making me think that, but hey, I’ll take it. I’ve never been woken up with sex before. I never thought I would like it. Yet I trust Ian, and when he strokes my slit, neither of us are surprised when I’m wet enough to do whatever he wants.

Shit, like nobody knows what he wants.

He doesn’t say a thing, let alone good morning, as he lifts my left leg and presses the head of his cock into my wetness. I moan into the palm of his hand, watching the morning sunlight ascend through the bedroom window as he slowly slips into me, filling me at this ungodly hour.

Once I’m too full to take more of him at this angle, he pulls out, muttering something that I can’t comprehend into my ear.

Before I know it, Ian slams back into me, shaking my body, flinging my leg over his hips, and using his free hand to snake beneath my shirt and squeeze my breast as hard as he dares.

In my current state, it’s almost overwhelming.

The man doesn’t even touch my clit, and yet I’m halfway to squealing in his hand, my body overcome with desire and pleasure. I don’t know where he got so much energy this early in the morning, but he’s not letting up. I jerk in his embrace from the force of his strength. I cower beneath his hand, sinking deeper into his arms, against his body, willing more of him into me as he takes me, over and over.

“You’re mine,” I feel in his movements. “This is what you were made for. You don’t need to worry about anything else. Let go and indulge in the moment.”

Do you think that’s what he means when he does this? Or is he a horny fucker using me like a convenient blow-up doll?

“Katie.” That’s the only word I hear from him before he fucks me harder, his cock impaling me from behind, reaching deep, deep within and threatening to split me in two. I close my eyes, blotting out the sun, welcoming the darkness of my dream world.