Present day, Seattle

Sariel

My bed still smells of lavender even three full days after I sent Selah home. It’s torture as I lie here trying desperately to fall asleep. All I can think about is her. The Selah from my past, and from my present. There’s no denying she is not the same woman I crashed into love with all those lifetimes ago. But I don’t care. I can feel that same pull, the need to be with her. She is meant for me, beyond any doubt.

Rolling onto my side, I let her floral scent cover me, invade my senses. I don’t resist my body’s instinctive reaction. My cock swells, and I welcome the ache of unchecked arousal. Closing my eyes, I let the need to be with her, to be inside her, take over. My wings flare to life, trapped under my skin. It’s less pain and more heat, as my power unfurls and I let my dream world and reality blend until there is no line between them.

I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t resist going to her. It’s not real—but it is.

She’s sound asleep, one arm draped across her eyes and the opposite leg kicked free of the covers. I almost don’t want to disturb her peaceful slumber, but then she moans, and it’s my name on her lips. The sound sends a pulse of desire through me so strong, I have to bite my lip to keep from rushing to her. If I’m being honest with myself, I really just want to claim her as mine here and now. There’s nothing I want more than for her to come back to me, remembering who we were to each other, who we can be again.

“Sariel,” she whispers in her sleep.

With the amount of power I’m using, I can keep myself from her perception, just as I used to, sharing in our desire without truly consummating our union up until we were wed. All I have to do is touch her and I can join her in her dream. She sighs and shifts, her hand drifting across her thin camisole. My dick is so fucking hard, I ache, and when she cups her own breast and arches her back, I’m done.

Striding across the room, I slide my hand over her exposed leg, and I’m instantly transported to her fantasy.

My heart clenches as soon as I see the pistachio tree. She isn’t supposed to know this place. How can she dream of it? Gabriel had said she wouldn’t remember.

Selah’s soft gasp has me turning toward her. The confusion in her eyes makes me certain she sees me standing by the riverbank.

“Sam? How did you get here?”

Shrugging, I smirk. “I don’t know. It’s your dream. Maybe you have the hots for me.”

Her answering blush sends a jolt of lust straight to my groin. Those beautiful lips of hers turn up in a soft smile as she meets my gaze. “You’re very, um, I don’t know how to describe you.”

“Is that a good thing?”

I take a step toward her and gather a lock of her long hair between my fingers, twirling it slowly.

She doesn’t respond, but her eyes never leave mine. I’ve wished for those beautiful dark lashes and deep gray irises to lock with mine day and night since I lost her the first time. Now that she’s here, I can barely breathe.

“Kiss me, Selah. You know you want this.”

She closes her eyes and lets her head fall back. “I really do. But I don’t know you.”

I can’t help myself, my hand drifts across the silky skin of her shoulder until I’m cupping the nape of her neck and pulling her toward me. “You know me better than you think.”

“Why would you say that?”

Her words ghost over my skin—she’s so close, I can feel the tension radiating from her. “Because it’s the truth,” I force through a throat so tight, I can barely speak.

Working to control my need, I let my gaze drop from hers. My focus drifts down to the plump bottom lip I used to love nipping with my teeth just before I’d bury my cock inside her. I fight a shiver as her fingernails scrape lightly over my collar. Then she adds pressure, her fingers running along my chest and down the tight muscles of my stomach until they find the hem of my shirt. When she slides her hands under the fabric and our skin meets, I groan.

Loving the feel of her body connected to mine, I murmur, “I don’t ever want you to stop touching me.” It’s really a plea, but she doesn’t know that.

“Don’t give me a reason to, and I won’t.”

Tightening my grip on her hair, I pull her face to mine and claim her mouth for the first time in far too long. My chest expands, an astounding pressure filling me as we connect and her tongue parts my lips. Everything is right. Drinking her in, I let her take everything I have to offer, all my attention, my desire, my love. She has me. I’ve wanted this for thousands of years, and it’s better than I could have imagined.

Her nails dig into the small of my back, sending a welcome burn through me that has nothing to do with the marks of my obligation to my brothers. But then she starts trailing her fingers over my wings, and I release her, gripping her wrists and bringing them up and away from the tattoo she thinks I have. In one smooth motion, I place her arms around my shoulders and lift her until she has no choice but to wrap her legs around my hips. I’m certain she can feel my rigid cock against her core, and my suspicions are confirmed as she moans and grinds her center against me.

“I want you,” I murmur against her temple.

“Yes.” It’s only one word, uttered on a needful sigh, but it’s all I need.

Pushing her up against the tree, I shove her panties to the side and sink one finger deep inside her heat. She feels like fucking ecstasy, slick and tight, waiting for me.

“You’re so beautiful, my Selah.”

I trail kisses along her collarbone and shoulder as I move my finger back and forth, opening her. My cock is throbbing with desire, begging for release. With my free hand, I palm my shaft, squeezing in a futile attempt to provide myself some relief.

“This is just a dream, right?” she asks.

Not removing my lips from her skin, I nod and sink a second finger into her. She groans and clenches around me.

“Then fuck me already.”

Oh, for the love of all that is holy. She never spoke to me this way before. My dick jerks against my thin sweatpants at her brazenness. Shoving the offending fabric down my hips, I lick along her throat until my lips and tongue find her earlobe. “Get ready, beautiful little one. You’ll never want another.”

She squirms as I line my cock up with her entrance and press inside, just barely, torturing us both.

“Yes, Sam.”

My blood runs cold at the name, making me pause at the gates of everything I’ve been searching for. And then fire races across my back, my wings burning like molten lava, and with a scream of agony, I fall to the floor. Opening my eyes, I see a pair of black biker boots and legs encased in leather pants. I’m in my bedroom. Damn. And Gabriel stares at me with a frown marring his usually perfect brow. Double damn.

“What have you been up to, brother?” he asks, disapproval in his tone.

“It was just a dream.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Was it?”

* * *

Selah

Holy shit.

My eyes snap open as I’m jolted from sleep. That was the most intense dream I’ve ever had, and it was about Sam. Well, initially it was about Sariel, the man I met once but can’t seem to forget. At first, I’d been angry when he disappeared and Sam took his place in the dream. But that emotion was quickly replaced with desire for Sam. I can smell him on my skin, feel the head of his thick erection penetrating me, just an inch. Not enough.

Of all the times to wake up, I had to do it before I’d been able to at least enjoy an orgasm. Stretching, I sit up and glance at the clock. It’s barely four in the morning, but I know I won’t be getting any more sleep. That’s not how I’m wired. Once I’m awake, that’s it, my day starts. The hardwood floor is frigid at this ungodly hour, sending shocks of chill along the soles of my feet as I stand. It seems such a contrast to the heat of my fantasy world, the warm sun baking the earth, Sam’s hot kisses. Shit. I need to stop thinking of him.

Wrapping myself in my favorite fleece robe, I grab a thick pair of socks from the dresser and slip them over my feet. With a huge yawn, I trudge out of my bedroom and down the hall. Coffee. I need coffee and a shower before I’m functional. As I walk past the chair Adam had been using as he waited for me to return, I wince inwardly. His harsh words, the plea in his eyes, those big hands pinching my flesh, all play out again like they happened to someone else.

I should have listened to my instincts rather than give in to the pull he had on me. But now, what I’d mistaken for love was clearly just attraction. Adam and I don’t have even a quarter of the connection that exists between me and Sam. I’ve only seen the man twice, but I’m dreaming of letting him inside my body without hesitation. If it hadn’t been for my fresh breakup, I’d have let it happen for real only a few hours ago. He’d had me in his bed, at his mercy, and he’d behaved with restraint, respecting me.

“You don’t even know the man, Selah. Stop overanalyzing,” I mutter, tossing a coffee pod into my machine and waiting for it to brew. It takes me a few seconds to realize there’s not a mug under the damn dispenser, and I shout a curse as hot coffee splashes on my robe. Grabbing a cup from the drying rack to my left, I slide it under the stream of caffeine and heave a frustrated sigh.

I have too much on my plate to let a silly sex dream throw me off. Grabbing my phone, I scroll through my calendar for the week. Rehearsal, rehearsal, rehearsal, a day off, more rehearsal. I’ve been a regular dancer for a burlesque troupe for the last five years, ever since a spot opened up when one of the principal dancers ran off without a word. According to my friend Rosie, it was a shame for the show to lose Trisha; she’d been really talented. Everyone suspects she found herself a rich husband and is enjoying the life of a trophy wife. A weight lifts off my shoulders as I realize that’s another thing I won’t have to worry about now that Adam is out of my life. He knows I’m a dancer; he doesn’t know I make most of my money doing burlesque.

Taking my coffee with me, I curl up on the couch and turn on Netflix. I just need a mindless distraction. Eyes the color of mercury flash in my memory without my brain’s permission, and I finally give up after nearly an hour of fighting with myself.

I need a shower and an orgasm—maybe two.