Chapter Two
The bedsheets in Caspian’s dream were made of black silk. They covered a mattress so soft, he sank into it as if it were an oversized pillow. He blinked open his eyes and stretched out. Thousands of flickering flames from candles danced in unison, lighting up the room.
A familiar smell hung in the air, almost like rain. He recognized this same scent from something in the forest—what exactly, though, he couldn't say.
Caspian sat up, supporting himself on his elbows.
The sheets slid across his bare thighs as he shifted his position. He realized then that he was naked.
Even though it felt so real, Caspian knew it was a dream.
He remembered going to bed in the stiflingly hot guest room, underneath a central overhead light and surrounded by huge old wooden furniture. Not a candle in sight. Wearing his cotton pajamas, he’d made the bed up with white sheets. It was so hot that he’d only put on one cotton sheet to go over him. He doubted he’d find black silk or satin anywhere in Dr. Kilpatrick’s house.
Caspian had undoubtedly fallen asleep while reading a book, as was his normal way of dozing off. The eReader, still lying on the bed beside him, had switched to sleep mode when he didn’t ‘turn’ the page.
Sensing eyes on him, Caspian glanced around, his eyes adjusting to the warm flickering light. “Hello?” he called out before actually seeing the man who stood in the shadows at the edge of the room.
Dressed from head to toe in smart black clothes, the stranger had slicked-back black hair, too. The man stood in front of a dark background, which was probably why Caspian didn’t notice him right away.
He saw him now.
Except, he realized that the stranger wasn’t standing, and also wasn’t in the room. Not exactly. In the doorway, he leaned at an angle, a shoulder against the door frame propping him up. There wasn’t a door, as far as Caspian could see, just an opening to something beyond, which lay in darkness.
The tall man cut a striking figure. He was older than Caspian by a few years—likely in his late twenties. His handsome face was classically good looking with strong chiseled features.
“Hello,” he said, taking a step forward into the light. His black hair shone a sleek, iridescent blue. It struck Caspian as familiar, but he couldn’t place from where.
Unafraid, fully aware it was a dream, Caspian kept the sheets modestly over his lap. He wasn’t ashamed of his body or his looks, but even when asleep, he wasn’t an exhibitionist. Well, he only occasionally had those fantasies.
The stranger took another step forward, his gait a confident swagger. His fingers worked at the black buttons of his shirt as he drew nearer. Enticing black chest hair appearing at the top of the shirt, which fell open.
Caspian gulped. “Who are you?”
Without answering, the stranger didn’t stop moving.
Reaching the foot of the bed, he paused to kick off his shoes and shook his open shirt free of his slender frame.
Mouth watering, Caspian took in the sight of muscular arms and a torso covered in fine, velvety black hairs. He longed to run his fingers over the hairy chest but didn’t move.
The sure-of-himself stranger ran a pointing finger from his navel suggestively down the length of the thick black treasure trail until he reached the top of his pants. He made short work of unfastening the belt and removing it from the loops before dropping it out of sight.
When the belt snapped free of the loops, the pants dropped a little, clinging to his hips and emphasizing the bulge of his crotch. The bulge seemed to be all that held them up.
When he dropped the belt, the dreamy stranger used a free hand to cup his prominent package, dragging fingers up either side to emphasize its size and shape, and to draw attention to his erection. He didn’t need to, though. It had Caspian’s attention.
With unfathomable skill and dexterity, the man ran his fingers around the silhouette of his cock under the black fabric and undid his fly at the same time. He moved his hips in a small circular motion, and the pants glided down, over his thighs.
It took quite some balls for a guy to perform a private striptease in this way.
Enjoying every moment of the show, Caspian licked his lips, subconsciously attempting to summon moisture back into his dry mouth. All thoughts focused on the now-naked man at the foot of the bed.
On the bed.
Naked and crawling on hands and knees, up the bed.
Over him.
Overconfident, brazen, and not stopping to check that the man in the bed was happy with this development, although he was.
Caspian drew in a breath but didn’t back up. He stayed still as the presumptuous stranger crossed the bed, over his legs—still covered by the sheet—and straddled his lap, with a very hard cock prominent between them, and Caspian’s equally aroused member pushing against the silk sheet and body above it.
The stranger smirked as they grew close.
Face to face, the sharp, aristocratic point of the stranger’s nose brushed against Caspian’s.
Caspian’s heart hammered in his chest. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. The touch, as slight as it was, felt electric. The air sparked with sudden, impossible chemistry.
“Hello,” the stranger said again before stealing a kiss.
Closing his eyes, Caspian gasped into the stranger’s mouth. After a brief moment of hesitation, he kissed the stranger back. Arousal surged low in his stomach and bound him to the moment.
Nothing else had ever been so important, so captivating.
They sank onto the bed together. The stranger pressed down, with only a slither of black silk to separate their naked bodies. Sheer smooth silk protecting him from a stranger.
In the haze of his dreams, Caspian didn’t think he needed protecting. He didn’t often have erotic dreams and rarely, if ever, so vivid. He didn’t intend to fight it.
Bring it on, dream boy.
He ran his palms down the stranger’s sides to feel the bare, warm skin.
The stranger’s lips were soft, but not afraid to take control. He kissed Caspian as he’d never been kissed before, guiding his pleasure and deepening their passion.
It felt so wonderful.
If this was just a dream, it didn’t have to make sense.
In real life, Caspian had never fallen into bed with a nameless stranger. He’d never so much as had a one-night stand. At the very least, he’d shared a successful date or two with every guy he’d slept with. He’d only had sex with men when there was a real possibility of a permanent relationship. It was how he’d been raised and what he wanted.
Of course, none of his relationships had lasted, which was why, at twenty-two years of age, he was single and alone in Beaumont.
He’d always been guarded with his affections and his body. If he met men more like this dream guy, he’d reconsider his stance. It was just a dream, right? He could indulge if he wanted to. Boyfriends had come and gone throughout Caspian’s life, especially in the last few years, but he’d never lusted after a single one of them as he lusted after this man.
Take me. Make me yours.
Of course, in a dream, he didn’t need to state his desires out loud. This cocky creation of his imagination already knew what Caspian craved—a man who’d take control in the bedroom. In his deepest fantasies, the men he desired were unbelievably competent in all things and arrogant enough to know it. They were dominant in the bedroom, and out of it. But that was just fantasy.
In this dream, the stranger played exactly how Caspian wanted.
Cocky and sure of himself, arrogant even.
Caspian whispered against the stranger’s lips, “Make love to me.”
The embers of his arousal were lit and burning, his cock hard and his body needy.
The stranger chuckled. He pulled away from the kiss and sat up, still astride Caspian’s lap. When he drew back enough for them to look into each other’s eyes, Caspian was startled at how dark they were—almost as if he had no irises at all.
“You don’t do anything half-assed, do you?” the stranger asked.
Caspian made a face, not sure exactly sure what the man referred to. In general, it was a spot-on assessment of Caspian, as if the stranger knew him well.
The stranger only laughed and kissed him again.
Caspian closed his eyes and kissed the stranger back with everything he had.
The stranger’s hands roamed along Caspian’s back to the dip of his spine, then down to his ass. Strong hands cupped Caspian’s cheeks and pulled him closer. Caspian choked on a gasp against the stranger’s lips when their groins met, and cocks rubbed together through the silk.
The stranger was hard and well hung, as Caspian already knew. It was one thing to see with his eyes; it was another to feel it pressed against his own aching need.
The silk shifted over Caspian’s legs.
The firm nude body that pressed against him pushed him back into the soft mattress. It felt like the bed was swallowing them alive, and Caspian loved every moment of it.
“Make love to me,” Caspian pleaded into the hungry mouth that devoured him. “Put it inside me. I want to feel it.”
“Eager hatchling,” the stranger murmured. “How sweet.”
“I’m not…” Caspian’s mind fogged. What wasn’t he? Sweet? He couldn’t remember. He could only push his hips and rub their shafts together. The stranger tightened his fingers on his ass.
Caspian felt beyond himself with pleasure.
“Not what?” the stranger asked in a hot whisper. His mouth and tongue ate hungrily at Caspian's face, jaw, and neck.
“Not…” Caspian trailed off. He didn’t know what to say, so he kissed the stranger passionately again.
The stranger chuckled into his mouth.
He drove Caspian crazy with his essence. His fuck-me-senseless-please sexiness. His cocky, sure-of-himself charisma. His audacity and arrogant posture, as if he’d never known rejection.
Caspian didn’t know his name, or where they were, or if they would ever see each other again, but the stranger got under his skin. The haughty manner of his chuckles, as if he knew what Caspian wanted and needed, made him prickle with irritation. And desire. He wanted to kiss him until all hints of smugness were gone, and they were both delirious with the need for each other.
Drawing back, the stranger wedged a knee between Caspian’s legs, prizing his thighs apart. The stranger’s cock parted from Caspian’s, who in turn wished badly that it would come back. He needed that touch. With or without silk separating them.
“Take me,” Caspian pleaded again, unable to resist.
“Do you realize what this means if you go through with this?” the stranger asked, his voice a deep rumble, with a hint of an unidentifiable sing-song accent.
Caspian kissed him. Orgasms? A sore ass? He didn’t understand what the man was getting at and didn’t much care.
He lunged forward for more kissing, but the stranger moved his head back only just out of reach.
“Mm…answer me, hatchling,” the stranger urged him.
Caspian shook his head and collapsed back into the pillow. “No.”
“It means forever,” the stranger explained.
Despite how strange that comment would’ve sounded at any other time, Caspian was too full of lust and need to pay it any attention. Caspian struggled to understand what was going on, but he did know that if what they shared was forever, he had no complaints. The stranger knew how to play his body, and Caspian ached for him in a way he'd never known before.
If it was always going to be like this, Caspian would never want anyone else. “I want you,” he moaned.
“And you have no idea how much I want you,” the man replied.
Caspian heard these words and liked them.
And you have no idea how much I want you…
Who didn’t like feeling wanted and desirable?
Their kiss grew hot and needy. Caspian lifted his ass as he thrust up against the man.
The stranger swiped the silk sheet from between them, like the table top parlor trick.
With new found freedom, Caspian hitched his legs up, clearly offering his ass.
In the back of his mind, he knew he should be worried about condoms. At the very least, he needed to think about lube. But when the crown of the stranger’s cock traced along his taint and found its home against his hole, Caspian didn’t care anymore.
Take me.
The stranger chuckled against his lips again, as if reading his thoughts, but he pulled away completely instead. Taking a firm hold of the back of Caspian's thighs, the man moved down between his legs and nuzzled first his nose and then his tongue against Caspian’s backside.
The sudden surprising turn of events made Caspian’s hard cock jump on his stomach and, “Oh yes,” escape from his mouth.
Eagerly, the man ran his tongue all over Caspian’s ass, but concentrated the greatest attention on his puckered hole, licking and entering at a perfect pace.
The man’s hands were everywhere. Holding his legs up until the calves rested on the stranger’s shoulders. On his ass, pulling his cheeks apart. Stroking his cock and tugging his balls. All plenty to push Caspian further toward ecstasy, but insufficient to satisfy his need.
Melting in a pool of desire and insatiable lust, Caspian feared he’d come too soon if the man kept it up. He was taken to a place so erotic, it existed beyond orgasm. He couldn’t ever remember feeling so aroused.
The wet tongue licking him inside and out took him to a point where he’d do anything, confess to anything, agree to anything. All of those dirty fantasies that he usually kept private, he'd share them. He’d happily tell all and indulge in anything with this sexy stranger.
“More. Give me your cock,” Caspian moaned when a finger probed him, alongside the tongue. “This is too much. I want you in me, please,” he begged. The tonguing had turned him on more than enough for anything.
“My eager chick.” The sexy voice. The warm breath. The strange words. They all wafted over his skin like another touch, turning him on even more.
Come in me.
The stranger sat back on the bed. “If we breed, you must know it’s forever.”
Caspian looked down at the stranger’s cock standing proud and soaking wet with precum. He’d like to taste, but not now.
“Hatchling, is that what you want?”
Feeling wanton, Caspian pulled his legs up to his chest and rolled over onto his knees to offer his ass. Looking over his shoulder, the stranger met his gaze with a raised eyebrow and a smile.
“Yes. Breed me.” Hoping to get what he desperately wanted, he buried his face in the pillow and waited.