Rated M for a reason: Erotic content.
Along with "Stolen Moments", this is a companion/sequel to "Secrets".
Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from FFvii or it's characters.
Enjoy
fire mystic
Sweetest Dreams
Her hand slid from where it had been curled up next to her face to unconsciously brush at whatever was touching her hair. She smiled in her sleep as something deep in her subconscious brought an image to focus in her mind; a few stray strands of her dark hair captured by long, graceful fingers. He would hold them, bringing them to his lips, to caress them with a kiss before letting them slip away. She would chatter on while he did this, but never failed to blush at the tender expression on his face.
The image faded into something else. He was still there, she knew. In the grey and white world of her dream, there was the occasional flash of deep red accompanied by the smell of warm leather and the bright blue sparkle of eyes brimming with mischief.
She became aware of a barely there caress against her cheek. Something so light, it barely skimmed along the tiny hairs on her skin, and yet her body was instantly alive with sensation. That caress traveled, touching here, lightly trailing there, lingering on the most sensitive flesh.
Against her lips, tingling, it parted them in sensual invitation. Down the long line of her neck, it quickened the pulse beneath. Over her breast bone, it created an ache for it to continue its journey. Circling her breasts, it hardened her nipples to aching points of pleasure. Her spine curved as she tried to keep that pressure, slight as it was.
Tracing her body, the smooth skin of her trim waist, the indent of her belly button, the length of one leg to her toes, where it lingered to pleasantly torture, and then back up the other leg.
The relief was profound when that touch deserted her skin. The ache for its return was far worse. Anticipation rolled through her in waves, and just as it might have waned, the sensation returned, this time playing over the line of hair along her lower belly. In a downward path, it teased, along the tender hollow where thigh meets leg; over damp, swollen skin, flushed with heat. Tickling, tormenting, there was nothing but that slight caress, kindling the heat within until the nerves along her skin sizzled, her muscles spasmed, and her dream broke as her body melted into orgasm.
"TIFA."
She couldn't even muster the strength to sit up in the bed; it was all she could do to turn glazed, hooded eyes to her bedroom door.
"Tifa, what the hell is wrong with you?"
She moistened dry, swollen lips with her tongue.
"What do you mean, Cloud?"
"You were screaming." He had the decency to blush. "At least think about the kids."
She shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Cloud. I was sleeping. It was your screaming that woke me up."
He was red to the roots of his hair. He hadn't realized she had been asleep. She must have been dreaming.
"Never mind," he muttered.
The door closed behind him and Tifa shifted in the bed, relaxing her body in the aftermath of such a delicious dream, wishing she could have shared it with her lover. Reaching up to adjust her pillow, her hand brushed against something unexpected. She pulled it from where it had rested beneath the pillow; a single black feather, still damp from her pleasure. A small note was attached to the quill…
"Dream of me. G."