N. Walters: Embroidered Fantasies

Her stomach churned and her knees went weak. She lifted a shaky hand to her mouth to keep from screaming. Terror filled her. A flicker of light off to her right caught her attention. She turned toward it, needing to get her bearings. Around her the room began to take shape.

She blinked, not quite believing what she was seeing. A fire crackled in a large stone hearth, illuminating gray stone walls. The texture of the floor beneath her feet changed. It was no longer tile, but harder and cooler. She suspected the floor was much like the walls.

The stranger walked into her line of sight and she caught her breath. He was very, very tall. Even bigger than Michael. His shoulders were as wide as a doorway and his biceps were huge. Heavy bands of bronze wrapped around his upper arms and wrists.

They flashed in the firelight as he sheathed his sword in the scabbard at his side.

“You are safe.” His low voice reached deep inside her, comforting her in a way she hadn’t thought possible. She almost believed him.

He unbuckled his sword belt and set it on top of a wooden table just off to the right.

His feet were bare and he was wearing a pair of snug leather pants. He looked incredible.

She raised her eyes to see the face of the man who had saved her. Before she could get a good look at him, a rustling sound came from behind her. She whirled around and came face-to-face with a huge four-poster bed. There were no curtains to soften the austere lines of the bed. It was huge. And there was a man, a naked man, rising from its depths.

“What have you brought us, Brother?”

When he spoke, she took an involuntary step back toward the man standing next to her. She didn’t know him, but she trusted him not to hurt her.

“I heard a woman cry out and found her wandering in the hall.” The hall? That wasn’t right. “No, I was home.” A thought occurred to her. “Where am I?”

She peered around the room, studying the man beside her and the one propped up on one arm, staring at her from the depths of the gigantic bed. It was all so familiar even though she knew she’d never been here before.

The tapestry.

Relief hit her and her knees went weak. She swayed and was quickly lifted into a pair of strong arms and carried to the bed. She’d be screaming her head off if she hadn’t suddenly realized she was dreaming.

The nightmare about her husband finding her had been brought on by the phone call from Stacy. That was only normal. Instead of the nightmare coming to its terrifying conclusion, it had morphed into a dream about the two men from the tapestry. She’d earlier wished for someone to save her from her ex-husband. Who better than two fantasy men?

She sighed and caught the scent of hot male, mixed with leather and something else. Something earthy and clean. She liked it.

Her back hit the mattress and she stared up at her dream hero. His jaw was square, his features strong. She wished she could see him better, but there simply wasn’t enough light. His eyes were dark and intense. No golden boy like her ex. If she’d met this man in a dark alleyway, she’d have been terrified of him. But this was just a dream and here he represented safety.

“Thank you for saving me.” She didn’t know why she was thanking him. It was a dream, after all. But for some reason it seemed important.

He grunted and before she could blink, he’d shucked his pants and climbed onto the bed beside her. She caught a glimpse of rock-hard thighs and a huge erection.

Roxanne swallowed hard. She wasn’t ready for this, not even in her dreams. The shifting of bedcovers behind her reminded her that there was another man in the bed.

He snuggled closer and she felt his arousal, long and thick, press against her hip.

She scrambled to the top of the bed, pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. It was a protective posture. A defensive move. With them surrounding her, there was nowhere else for her to go. “Please.” She thrust out a hand in front of her, as if that would stop them.

The scowl deepened on the stranger’s face.

“That’s what we want to do, my sweet.” She glanced at the man’s brother. They had to be brothers. The resemblance was too close for them to be otherwise. Plus, in the way of dreams, she just knew it was his brother. He offered her a soft smile. “Let us pleasure you.” His large hand settled on her thigh. Her breath caught in her throat.

“We don’t want to take from you.” Her hero cupped her face in his hands. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips across hers. The caress was featherlight, so soft she barely felt it.

Arousal zinged through her, awakening parts of her body she’d feared would never be alive again. Her breasts ached and she felt a heavy pulse low in her belly. Cream slid from her core, dampening the crotch of her pajama pants. She licked her lips. His eyes darkened as he watched her. “I don’t understand.”

The brother shifted his hand, sliding it beneath the hem of her shirt until it rested just below her left breast. Her heart raced. “Let us touch your breasts, lick your skin, taste the sweetness from between your spread thighs.” A shiver rushed down her spine, but this time it wasn’t from fear. She was aroused.

Totally and completely aroused. And why not? This was a dream. Her dream. She was safe here. She was in charge.

Her dark warrior brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. Her tongue darted out to taste it. His skin was salty and hot. A low rumble came from deep in his chest. Staring up at him, she nodded.

Pure male satisfaction covered his rugged face. Not hesitating, he caught the waistband of her pants and pulled, whipping them away. His brother did the same with her top. In seconds, she was naked.

A sense of vulnerability swept over her. It was just a dream, but she couldn’t stop herself from curling her legs upward to shield her body from them.

“No.” Her hero was having none of it. He knelt on the bed in front of her and wrapped his hands around her ankles. His grip was gentle, but firm. Slowly, inexorably, he eased her legs away from her body, tugging them open as he did so.

With his large body between her legs, she couldn’t close them. The position left her open and exposed.

He leaned down and inhaled deep. “You smell hot and sweet, like a woman should.” His tongue snaked out, licking up one side of her damp folds and down the other. “Your cunt is juicy and ripe.”

His crude words startled her, but his gentle touch held her captive. The expression on his face was one of wonder.

The brother wasn’t about to be forgotten. He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. They were both being so gentle it brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them back. She wanted to enjoy this dream, this fantasy of being protected, cared for and wanted by two exceptional specimens of manhood. She’d have enough reality to deal with in the morning when she awakened.

He kissed the curve of her jaw and down her neck, licking her collarbone. Her breath caught in her throat as he continued lower, lapping at one of her swollen nipples. A low moan broke from her throat, startling her.

Her tormentor gave a low laugh and latched onto her breast with his mouth, sucking strongly.

Between her thighs, her dark warrior touched her with his tongue, slicking over her engorged folds. He found the nub at the apex of her thighs and flicked it. Her hips arched upward of their own accord. He blew softly on her heated flesh. She reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair, urging him closer.

“Is this what you want?” His breath was warm against the lips of her pussy.

“Yes,” she whispered. And it was. She wanted to feel like a woman again, a whole woman, one who could find pleasure in the intimacy of sex, even if it was only in a dream.