NSFW
w/c: 900
On the nights when it happens, it's always the same; I know I'm dreaming—and I know it's the dream—but in the beginning, because of the vision playing out though my sleeping mind, I'm hesitant to wake. See, the thing is… it's all so incredibly real. I can smell the smoke from the fire mingling with the crisp scent of pine from the trees outside. I can feel each soft, heated brush of his lips against my skin and hear him whispering my name. It's like I've been transported back in time, given the chance to relive the night we finally gave in to our love—and it's just as magical as I remember it.
As the passion grows and flares between us, I always promise myself 'just one more minute'…one more minute in his arms and I'll make myself wake up—but before I know it, I've stalled too long. The dream shifts, warping the sweet memory of the cabin in the most horrifying way imaginable, becoming something dark and sinister, and as soon as that happens I know I've missed my chance to escape the terror of the nightmare that is coming. The kisses fade away and we're no longer in the cabin, wrapped in the comfort of our mutual embrace—instead we're running through the darkness, surrounded by the earthen walls of the caves back at Saint Vlad's, and no matter how frantically I try to force myself awake, it is all in vain. I'm forced to relive it over and over, watching him fall as the Strigoi rides his body to the ground, it's fangs tearing into the smooth, tanned skin of his neck. Even more horrifying are the changes my mind inserts, like the way his dark eyes lock on mine, full of pleading, or his screams, my name echoing off the stone walls around us, full of heartbreaking despair and loss… and blame.
That's when I jerk awake, biting my lip to keep from crying out and startling him, my body shaking and my cheeks wet with the tears I've shed in my sleep. Hovering in the haze between the nightmare and waking, even the feel of his strong arms around me isn't enough to chase away the panic that grips me. I roll over to face him, my lips seeking his as my hands slide down his body, wanting the warm reassurance that only he can give me. Reassurance that he's here with me, real and alive—that the dream was nothing more than just that… a dream.
Just like always, my actions wake him; he knows what it is I need without a word passing between us, sleepily returning my hungry, desperate kisses as he hardens beneath my hand. With one smooth shift of his muscular body, he rolls us, staring down at me, his face inches from my own, knowing I need to see that the brown eyes I love so much are free of any trace of red. I'm instantly ready, the effects of my arousal from reliving our night in the cabin have left me aching to have him inside me—and as he enters me with a gentle thrust I softly sigh his name. He starts off slowly, always so careful not to hurt me, but he instinctively knows that's not what I need tonight, and the movement of his body within me rapidly evolves to an almost frantic pace. It is hard and fast, as if we're both afraid the moment will slip away and something will interfere that separates us forever. For us, this isn't just a celebration of our love but of life itself, the heat of his body inside me… around me… reminding me that my Dimitri is once again among the living.
As my hips rise up to meet his strokes, the terror of the nightmare slowly fades away, replaced with an entirely different kind of tension—one that coils low in my body, steadily growing stronger and stronger with each moment that passes. I can feel my pulse pounding between my legs as his hard length brushes against me with each movement of his powerful hips, and soon enough my heart is racing, roaring in my ears as I shudder beneath him, crying out his name. My own orgasm is quickly followed by his own hushed groan of release, but on nights like this he doesn't pull out of me after his climax. He rolls us over, his length still clenched firmly within me, cradling me to his chest, because he knows that I still need to feel him inside me, our bodies joined and connected the same way our hearts and souls are entwined together, anchoring me to the present and banishing the horrors of our past.
Straddling the man I love, with my breasts flattened against his chest and my head nestled against his neck, the last of the fear drains away from me. Now I can fall back asleep safely and without worry of what lies waiting in my mind, and as I slowly drift off to the low husky sound of Dimitri humming a Russian lullaby as his long fingers gently trace patterns on the bare skin of my back, I know that sometimes, against all the odds, love does conquer all. The warmth of his body beneath me… within me… is all the proof I need.