The crackling of the fire in the massive stone fireplace set the mood. The flickering flames were the only light to see by, but it was all I needed. A blanket was spread out on the wooden floor, the fleece inviting me to sit as it promised to be the softest thing I'd ever felt against my skin.

I did exactly that, stretching out and letting all that soft warmth caress my back and down my legs. The heat from the fire warmed the front of me and I realized I was naked.

I ran my hands over my flat stomach, feeling the muscles from years of athletics hard beneath my pale skin. Some women tried to fight their natural coloring by forcing tans, but I didn't bother. I had the kind of skin that burned in the sun and looked almost orange when I used the spray or lotion stuff. I'd learned that when my boss back at The Twilight Room had told me I was too pale. When I'd shown up the day after, he'd laughed and given me two days off to get myself back to normal. He'd never asked me to tan again.

“You're beautiful.”

A husky male voice attracted my attention as he stepped from the shadows. He, too, was nude, and the firelight played off of his sculpted body, sending a rush of heat through me that had nothing to do with the fire. He stretched out next to me, our bodies less than an inch apart, close but still not touching.

“We have all night,” he said. “And I intend to explore every inch of you.”

I shivered in anticipation. He raised his hand and let it hover over me, teasing. I could feel the energy pulsing between us, traveling that short distance from all of the places where his body was close to mine. When he finally placed his palm on my stomach, I moaned. A simple touch and he could melt me. There was no doubt in my mind that I loved this man, that I craved him, body, mind and soul.

His hand slid to my breasts, caressing first one and then the other. My nipples were hard before he even touched them, and then he circled them with his fingers, teasing the tips before dropping his hand to my stomach again. This time, it moved down and I parted my legs, eager to feel his touch where I needed it the most.

First his fingers ghosted over my inner thighs, almost light enough to tickle, and when I squirmed, he smiled. My hands came down to move things along and he shook his head. Without the fingers between my legs missing a beat, he used his other hand to gather my wrists and hold my hands still. I could've struggled against him and he would've freed me, but I didn't. Instead, I caught my breath as one fingertip ran the length of my slit, the sensitive flesh there responding instantly to his touch.

He slid his finger between my lips, and I sighed. It teased around my opening, circling it before moving up to gently rub my clit. I moaned, shifting my hips as I tried to get more friction where I wanted it. He chuckled and the sound sent a rush of arousal through me. When he lowered his hand and slid his finger inside me, it went easily. I was tight, but so wet that he found no resistance.

“So hot inside you.” He leaned over me as his finger began to move in a slow, steady rhythm. His tongue darted out, flicking against my nipple and I gasped. He did it again and then closed his lips over the pale pink flesh.

“Fuck!” I cried out, my back arching as he began to suck. Each pull of his mouth was a new torture. Each stroke of his finger sent ripples of pleasure through me. When his thumb began to work over my clit, I squeezed my eyes closed and waited to explode.

Then, suddenly, his mouth and hand were gone, leaving me dancing on the edge of agonizing ecstasy. I was so close and he still held my wrists, preventing me from doing anything to ease my own suffering. I opened my eyes, preparing to yell at him to return to his previous ministrations, but then I realized he'd stopped so he could settle himself between my legs.

“Yes...” I hissed the word in anticipation of what I knew was coming. He grinned, blowing on my sex before dipping his head and diving in.

His tongue teased me, gently stroking my flesh before his mouth pressed against the inside of my thigh. When he began to suck on the skin there, I swore. I shouldn't let him do that there. He knew my costume for the recital, though complete with tights, wouldn't prevent people from seeing a bruise-like shadow when I danced. I knew that was why he did it though, to mark me, to make sure everyone knew I was his.

Not that there was really any doubt. From the moment I'd chosen him, he'd never tried to hide that we were together. He didn't care what anyone else thought. Not family, not business associates. Not the arrogant social circles who clamored for his approval.

I wailed as his mouth finally moved right where I wanted it. The sound echoed off the cabin walls and I was grateful he'd brought me here this weekend. No neighbors to disturb. And with the noises coming from my mouth as he licked me, I had no doubt neighbors would've complained.

I didn't realize that my hands were free until I started to move them and found that I could. I buried my fingers in his soft hair, pressing him closer to me as I came. His tongue continued to dip into my pussy, caressing my quivering walls and pushing me into another orgasm before the first had completely faded.

Even as I came down, I found his body over mine, his cock nudging at my entrance. Our eyes locked, and he waiting a moment before he slid inside me inch by glorious inch. The motion was smooth, but slow; allowing me the time I needed for my body to adjust, but without completely letting me up. He changed angles, dragged right against that spot that caused me to catch my breath. In and out he stroked, taking me higher, my body tightening; I was already coming again.

He ground his hips against me, rocked into me, the base of his cock rubbing against my clit until I dug my nails into his back, begging him to stop.

“Too much, please, please.” Tears streamed down my cheeks as my senses went into overload. When he stilled, I gave a sob of relief. My muscle spasms around his cock kept me going, but the overwhelming feeling that I couldn't handle what was happening had faded.

“Piper,” he said my name gently.

I nodded, answering the question he didn't ask. I needed him to move. I was still shaking, but having him inside me but not moving was its own special kind of torture. I could only imagine how it felt for him.

We found a natural rhythm immediately, our bodies dancing with each other with every thrust. It didn't take much for him to drive me over the edge again, sending me to that place where pleasure bordered on pain. And still he rode me, my name falling from his lips with every stroke. I lay limp beneath him, my body unable to process a single additional thing. I kept my eyes focused on his face as he moved above me, into me, through me. I knew every inch of it, and still, I looked. I had seen this face in pain, angry, joyful. I'd watch his eyes flash with emotion. I loved this face.

I loved him.

The realization jerked me awake even as my partner came inside me. My body was shaking with the aftereffects of the dream. I knew I'd come at least twice, maybe even three times, while I was sleeping, and I'd been in the middle of another climax when I'd woken up.

None of that, however, was at the forefront of my mind. No, what had me gasping and my heart racing was the revelation I'd just experienced while in the midst of orgasm. And I knew that's what it had been. Not a weird coincidence, but my brain telling me to accept what my heart already knew. My neon sign.

I was in love with the man from my dream and I needed to get him back.