I dreamed of you last night.
Well, don’t we think we’re something special? I don’t always dream of you, but often, yes, Not like this, though. This was… different.
Are you sure you want to hear?
If you insist. We were walking together through the woods. Either it was summer, or we’d finally moved somewhere warm. Just the two of us, really alone, it was so nice. No schedules, no phone calls, no obligations. No one on the other side of the door. Just me, and you, and us.
You looked beautiful, mine - and very much as you do right now. Strong, and proud, with your eyes that warm honey-brown they get when you’re happy, and your hair that little bit too long. Just the way I like it. I’d finally gotten you out of that t-shirt you call a uniform, and as I watched you I caught flashes of blue at your chest, from your mark. And flashes of silver at your throat, from mine.
I keep telling you you’re my dream guy.
I was so proud, watching you. Knowing that you were mine, knowing that I carried your heart inside me.
But I’m so enthralled by you; how can a metaphor be enough? My steps began to slow as my breathing did exactly the opposite. My eyes crept up to meet yours when you turned, a question plainly written on your face. Oh, what a joy it was to see the question fall away, to see the first tinges of fear, mixed with a breathless anticipation. You weren’t sure of the game, not yet, but you knew me well enough to sense my mood.
I smiled - that special smile that seems to show a few too many teeth. Despite the excitement fluttering just beneath my skin, I felt the softness run out of my face. The angles sharpened, my gaze became cold, even a bit arrogant. I didn’t need to see it to know; I could see you. Your growing uncertainty, and a kind of settled surrender - the prey in you succumbing to its lot in life.
That was the moment I’d been waiting for, although I hadn’t planned it. My nostrils flared, and I exhaled. “Run.” Almost too soft to hear.
You weren’t sure if I was serious. I saw the corner of your mouth twitch upward, and I growled. You heard that.
“You don’t want me to repeat myself.”
I didn’t think people actually ‘gulped,’ I thought that was something used only for effect. But you proved me wrong, and then you were off. Crashing through the bushes like a startled deer - darling, surely you have more finesse than that. But if you wanted to make the hunt easier, I wasn’t going to stop you.
I didn’t just chase. Where’s the fun in that? I followed, and let you tire yourself out, and when you began to slow I came at you from one side or the other. I let you hear a snapped branch, or catch a glimpse of my hair. I drove you in circles, and let you find your way back to where we had started.
And there I was in front of you, just as exhaustion forced you to your knees. You raised your head to face me, looking hopeful. Had you done well? Had I gotten the chase I wanted?
“I thought I told you to run.” You didn’t have time to do more than flinch away from the disdain in my voice, and I was on you. My knee slammed against your chest and you were knocked back, my weight driving the breath out of you. One hand closed over your throat, pressing your head back, as the other flattened against your belly, my thumb digging painfully under your ribs. My lips were smirking, but my eyes were still hard.
A slow, lazy drawl, my mouth inches from your ear. “What are you, darling?”
I felt your throat working under my hand as you fought to swallow. “Yours.”
“Good.” My lips moved slowly downward, barely brushing your skin. My legs, I placed over your thighs, using my body to bind you in place. I flicked my tongue across your nipple, murmuring, “Say it again. What are you?”
A soft gasp, as my tongue sent shivers across your body. “I’m yours.”
And still further down, until my lips traced that favorite spot where hardness becomes softness, just below your ribcage. I breathed in the salty-sweet tang of your skin, sweat mixed with fear mixed with lust. With my teeth grazing your skin, my voice made a mockery of a pleading tone. “One more time?”
I heard your breath catch. “I’m yours.” And then there were no more words. I drove forward into you, grinding the flesh of your belly between my teeth. Human mouths were not made for this feast, but I did my best. And as I felt the hot, coppery rush of you over my tongue, I felt an answering wave in myself, a building pressure in the pit of my stomach, and lower. I let pout a low moan as pleasure washed over me, sending vibrations into the very core of you. You tried to sit up, a scream forming on your lips, but the pressure on your throat threw you back down, and allowed for only a whimper.
My other hand found the wound my mouth had started, and was burrowing under your ribs in earnest now. My fingers curled around a rib and as I felt it crack, the dam inside me burst and I collapsed against you, shuddering, sighing your name. You arched up into me, as if in response - but really, there was just nowhere else to flee, to escape the pain. In a way, it seemed almost as though you didn’t want to escape. A though you would stay there willingly, through it all, if that was what I wanted.
Why is that, I wonder?
Finally, my questing fingers found their prize. I could feel it pulsing under my hand, impossibly fast. You weren’t breathing so easily now, which wasn’t surprising. Not if you think about what I had to tear through to get there. I raised my head - you looked so beautiful. I kissed your cheek, hypnotized by the crimson stains on your uncharacteristically pale skin. My lips found your ear again and as I began to squeeze, to crush the fluttering muscle in my grasp, I whispered one word.
“Mine.”
(Laugh) What’s the matter, my darling, cat got your tongue? It may not be much of a bedtime story, but you did ask.
Love, it was a dream. You’re perfectly safe, for as long as I want to keep you whole. Now get some sleep.
You too. Oh, and by the way; what are you?
Good. Sweet dreams…
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