11
Rayne was dreaming that dream again. She was on a bed, naked, her wrists bound above her head. It was dark where she was, pitch black. She was cold. Freezing. A puff of wind blew across her skin and she shivered uncontrollably.
A hand touched her bare stomach. It was ice cold, rough. She sucked in her breath, flinching back from it. It did no good. She could barely move, the restraints on her hands were too tight. The cold hand slid down over her hip. Rayne tried again to jerk away, but the hand suddenly locked on, gripping her, nails digging into her skin.
She hissed in a breath at the pain. It felt so damn...real. The nails were scratching her skin, pulling at her. She winced, feeling the sting.
"Rayne..." the voice sent a cold chill down her back. It sounded...gritty. Hard.
She shook her head, not wanting to speak, to acknowledge that she had heard. The hand moved across her hip, onto her lower stomach, then up. It was so cold it felt as if it burned wherever she was touched.
"Rayne..." This time the voice was deeper. Warmer. Farther away, but still...oddly familiar.
The hand suddenly grabbed her breast, squeezing it roughly, making her yelp. Tears of pain began slipping from her closed eyes.
"Mine. You are mine..." the gravelly voice seemed to come from all directions, whispering it over and over. Rayne was shaking her head again.
"No..." the other voice seemed to be getting closer. "Rayne...feel me Rayne. Open your eyes and see me..." She couldn't do it. She did not want to see what was hurting her.
"You will submit to me, child..." the cold voice whispered. And sounded different. It was fading a little. "You will...you will..." There was a muffled shriek. Rayne flinched back against the pillow.
"Rayne..." the second voice, the familiar voice, was right beside her. "I am here with you. Focus on me."
She tried. She could feel...something warm...inches from her left side. And she wanted to be near that warmth, to be warmed. She was so damn cold. Her teeth chattered. The hand on her breast squeezed again, not nearly as rough as the first time, but still hard enough to make her cry out.
"Leave her...she is mine..." the cold voice spoke from somewhere to her right.
"I think not." The warm voice, even closer than before. Right next to her ear, it seemed. And she suddenly placed it. Mark. It was Mark's voice. "Rayne...can you feel me?"
She took a deep breath, and concentrated. And...felt...a spot of warmth, on her stomach. His hand was on her stomach. "Y...y...yes..." She finally stuttered out. The hand on her breast squeezed again, making the momentary warmth disappear. She twisted her torso, trying to turn away from that icy grip.
"Concentrate on me and me only Rayne. Can you do that?" Mark's voice was soothing. She could feel his breath on her ear as he spoke. "I will not hurt you. But he will. I will make you warm. But you have to concentrate on me..." And his warm hand was on her stomach again, the heat stronger this time.
The cold hand was still there though, but it was fading. She felt the nails dig into the soft flesh of her breast, and sucked in a pained breath. Mark's hand slid up, cupping her other breast, and she focused on that instead. His hand was so warm, so gentle...she sighed and pushed herself more fully into his palm.
"That's it Rayne." As he spoke, his hand slowly stroked her skin. "Concentrate on what I'm doing to you. Nothing else matters now, except for what I am doing." She nodded. She wished he'd untie her hands. She wanted to grab him and wrap around him, and get warm again. She was so damn cold still.
She felt the bed she was on shift, and suddenly Mark was there, on top of her, his body covering hers in a blanket of heated flesh. He was as naked as she was. She was not shocked at the move; she was too grateful to feel his warmth, to soak it in.
"Focus on me..." He repeated softly. The cold hand was still there, but seemed to be losing it's substance. There was another shriek, this one of surprised anger and resentment.
"She is mine..." the gritty voice dragged the word out. Rayne hitched in her breath. "You would not dare take what is mine..."
"I would only take if it is given to me freely." Mark was still talking to her, although she had the feeling the words were meant for the owner of the cold voice. He reached up and did something to her wrists. And Rayne was suddenly free of the bindings. Her arms were numb, her shoulders ached. But she was free damn it. She wrapped her arms around Mark, pulling him closer, reveling in the heat of him. She shivered violently against his warm flesh.
"Noooo..." the cold voice hissed out. It was so faint now that it was barely audible.
"Rayne...would you want me to make you warm?" Mark asked softly. His mouth was right against her ear, his voice sending a tremor through her body.
"Yes. Warm...would be...nice." She managed to get the words out. Her teeth were chattering again. The cold hand was gone now, but she could still sense it, as if its owner was just waiting for another chance to step in.
Mark shifted, covering her body more fully with his. She sighed at the feel of him. She clutched at his shoulders. If he left her now, she'd go crazy, she'd freeze. "Warm me Mark. Please..." She did not know exactly what she was asking for, but she knew it had to be done. Had to be. There was no other way.
"Concentrate only on me Rayne..." He whispered softly. "Feel my body against yours. Do you feel my hand?" He slid it up her side, over her ribs, until his fingers were stroking the outer curve of her breast.
"Yes..." She sighed out. Her skin tingled wherever he touched her. Like sparks. Sending tiny rills of heat through her frozen limbs.
"Do you feel my mouth, Rayne?" as he spoke, he pressed his lips against her cheek, the corner of her lips.
"Yes..." Another sighed answer.
"Open up for me Rayne. Let me warm you."
She did not think about it. She parted her lips, feeling his brush against them. He pressed on, slipping his tongue into her mouth. It was as if she were suddenly dropped into a tub of warm water. The heat from his mouth sent a wave of warmth through her body, making her sigh in relief. But it was not enough. She needed more damn it. She forced her tongue to move against his, to kiss him back, and was rewarded with another flare of heat that raced from her head to her feet.
The cold voice, the cold hand, slowly faded into the background as she kissed Mark. There was no cold. There was only Mark and the heat. The heat was good. She needed the heat more than she needed water, air. She pressed her body up against his, trying to soak him in, to soak in the warmth.
Mark broke the kiss and slid his mouth down her chin to her neck. She tilted her head back, murmuring as he warmed her skin with his lips. His hand slid between their bodies and he cupped her breast again. He kneaded it gently, then stroked a finger across her nipple. This time it was not just a ripple of heat, it was an entire waterfall.
"Mark..." She managed to sigh out his name. He moved lower, sliding his body down hers.
"Let me warm you Rayne..." his voice had turned husky. She cried out as his mouth closed over her nipple. He sucked gently, then pulled back and flicked his tongue over the peak.
Warm her? Rayne knew if he kept up she would be on fire. And that's what she wanted. To chase away the bone-deep chill that had invaded her body. She was afraid of the heat, afraid of what it meant, but she was terrified of the cold. Mark would take away the cold. He would take it away and keep it away. She had to believe it. She had to trust him.
His mouth moved to her other breast, his hand once again cupping her. She could feel him...feel his erection...pressing against her thigh. And she moaned in need. It seemed to be the hottest part of him, hotter than his hand, even hotter than his mouth. He pressed his hips into her, letting her feel the length of him. She moaned, wiggling a little, trying to move him on.
Mark pulled back, nudging her legs apart with his knee, then settled himself between her thighs. Rayne made a low sound in her throat as his cock pressed against her folds. Forget ripples and waterfalls. This was even stronger, even more powerful. Spontaneous combustion, flash heat. Her body tingled with it. He pressed down against her, rubbing his body on hers, and she cried out at the contact.
"Do you want me to warm you now, Rayne?" He asked softly. He was still pressing his hips against her, but held his body up from her so he could look down. Rayne opened her eyes. It was still dark, but not as dark as it had been. Everything seemed to have taken on a red tint. Red...warm...red was good.
"Yes. Please Mark...make me warm again..." She reached for him, pulling him down to her body. Mark muttered, shifting his hips, and she could feel the head of his cock probing at her, seeking entrance. She opened up for him, spreading her legs a bit wider, then wrapping them around his waist.
He slowly pushed into her body, taking his time, not wanting to hurt her. And he could hurt her. She knew it. The heat, like the cold, could be too damn much. But having him inside her, warming her from the inside out...she tightened her grip on him. "Mark...please..."
Mark closed his eyes and finished his thrust, burying himself inside her. She was not cold...she was hot. Hot, wet, tight...pulsating around him, milking him. He heard her whimper under him as her body accepted him, pulled him in. He slowly moved his hips, pulling back then pushing forward, establishing a steady pace.
Rayne gasped in a breath every time he was fully sheathed, cried out, moaned...then began to buck against him, giving herself over to the sensations, to the heat. Mark began pumping faster, his mouth seeking hers, kissing her again, his tongue matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He felt her tensing around him, she was seeking her release, the end of that terrible cold that had gripped her.
He quickened the pace, giving her what she wanted now, movements hard and steady. He sucked in a breath then grunted in pleasure as she climaxed, her inner walls tightening almost painfully around his heated flesh. His mouth still against hers, his own moan of release was muffled as he plunged one last time, hips straining against hers as he spent himself.
Rayne sat up in the bed, heart pounding, choking back a yelp as the aftershocks of her orgasm went through her system. She looked around, panicked. She was in Mark's room. In Mark's bed. Her body was covered in sweat...she had kicked the blanket off even though the night was fairly cool. Still she felt...hot. Super warmed. Flushed. She was...was...
She looked down at herself. Naked. She was naked. She started to scramble from the bed but was stopped when a strong hand closed around her wrist. "It is all right. Do not leave."
She hadn't even noticed him lying there. He was naked too. And...she gulped...hard as a rock. She closed her eyes and did a mental check. All right. She'd had a dream. A vivid dream. That was all. So why the hell did it feel like she'd just had the wildest sex of her life? She felt...empty. That peculiar after-sex feeling of having lost something. And she could feel the numbness, the sign that she'd had enough for now. Oh boy. What the hell had they done?
She tried to relax against her pillow, but hissed in pain. Her hip was burning. She rolled onto her side and used the meager light from the window to see what the problem was. There were four...no...five...small wounds there. They had bled a bit, but seemed to have stopped. What the fuck?
"In the morning..." Mark's voice whispered. He could not read her mind, he had said so himself, but he seemed to know what she was thinking anyway. "I will explain in the morning. It is safe for you to sleep now Rayne."
Rayne allowed herself to be pulled down beside him. As hot as her body was, there was something...magnetic in the warmth he was putting out. Magnetic and altogether too familiar. She was too tired and confused to deal with it though. The morning would be soon enough for that.