It was dark when Dante opened his eyes. Barely lucid, he turned his head, an incomprehensible murmur escaping his lips as he struggled to make his brain work and tell him what he was seeing.
Finally, his vision adjusted to the thin darkness. He was in a gigantic room. It was ornately decorated, as if straight out of a Victorian Stately Manor House. Huge dark shadows of furniture lined the walls, and vast curtained windows hid the late stages of the sunset from his view, casting the thin darkness in an eerie red glow.
Aching everywhere and desperate to rest, Dante turned onto his back. The bed he was lying in was huge and soft with sheets that felt like pure silk. Unable to make his mind work any longer, he relaxed into the softness and closed his eyes again.
It took him a long time to realise he wasn't alone.
A hand glided over his bare chest; gentle fingers exploring the delicious contours of his perfectly sculpted muscles under the thin sheets.
Confusion washing through him, Dante tried to turn his head, but his body was too exhausted to listen to him anymore. Vaguely, he stirred, forcing his aching body to edge away from the touch as another incomprehensible murmur escaped his lips.
"Shhhh…" a gentle, oh so familiar voice whispered.
Something deep and comforting rang in Dante's heart. That voice. He knew that voice. Knew it so well.
"Sleep, Dante…you need it."
Dante drew in a deep breath, relaxing into the soft bed, his very soul soothing at the voice he knew so well. His skin tingled and his heart shivered in the most wonderful way as the hand continued to slip over his skin, taking in every inch of his broad chest, gliding lower over his toned to perfection stomach…and much further south.
He heard the figure's breath hitch, stunting at first tenderly, then becoming hungrier as they explored his body. The gentle touch became rougher. The tender sigh became primal.
Vaguely, Dante noticed something seemed strange about this, but the thought flitted away as his scattered mind struggled to stay awake.
Through the darkness, the figure pushed herself up and arced a shapely bare leg over Dante's delicious body and towered over the young man. Long dark hair spilled over one shoulder, flowing in a silken stream of dark water cascading over the silken sheets.
Dante felt the oh so familiar body above him, felt the heat he knew so well, felt the curves of the slender, perfect form he had touched so many times. He knew every inch of her more than he knew himself. His heart leapt in pure joy.
Shoving away the fatigue, Dante reached up, desperate to touch his beloved more than he wanted to live. The figure above him moaned as his hands glided over her slender curves, exploring her body much gentler than she had done.
Silky dark locks graced over Dante's skin as she leaned down, goose bumps raising as she traced soft, kissable lips over his throat and hands slid up to his hair, grasping the thick snow white locks surprisingly roughly.
"Dante…" the familiar voice whispered, making his whole body tingle. "Make love to me…I want you so much…Dante…"
Dante felt warm balmy breath ghost over his lips so invitingly. He knew those lips so well; wanted them so much. Every fibre of his being instantly cast away the exhaustion, the aches and the scattered mind and burst into primal passion.
It had been too long without her. The dreams, the nightmares too frightening. He wanted her love, needed it like the elixir of life itself.
His arms encircled the body straddling him, pulling her flush to his form and he captured those cherubic lips he adored in a fevered kiss. Instantly, raw passion flooded out of every single fibre of his being. God, he wanted her so much. He was too broken, too hurt, suffering too much; his very soul cried out for comfort only she could give.
He missed her. He needed her. He needed her love more than he needed to breathe.
Krysta…
It was a dream…just a dream…you're safe…you're healed…you're with me…
Krysta…
…I need you…
Above him, the figure kissed him back. Her hands ran over Dante's perfect body, passion quickly turning to lust as her fingernails dug into porcelain skin. Kisses turned from tender and loving to primal and animalistic within a split second.
Her arms locked around his body, dragging him into a ravenous embrace, demanding more and more as fingers clawed through his snow white locks, raked down his back much more covetous than ever loving. Dante gasped as she bit down on the tender skin of his throat far too rough jolting him out of his passion.
Wait…
Like a bolt of pain-filled lightning, something deep and cold rang in Dante's very soul.