Wicked Dreams (The Dreamweaver Saga Book 1)

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Wicked Dreams (The Dreamweaver Saga Book 1) Page 9

by K. G. Reuss


  “So, you're saying that I have to keep fucking these other women and try to get her in bed with me?”

  “It’s a theory.”

  “And what if you’re wrong, and it just brings her back to Hell? Then what?” I raked my fingers through my hair desperately.

  “Either way, you still have to bed these women to exist. I’ll do some checking into it. In the meantime, get back between a set of legs. The night’s still young, and you have a lot of work to do if this is going to happen.” He rose to his feet and cast me a quick smile. “We’ll fix this and drag that bastard down a peg or two. You’ll both be untouchable by the time we’re done with him.”

  “I hope you’re right." I escorted him to the door. “Because I’m fucked if you aren’t.”

  If the only possible way to break the curse was to keep screwing random women all while convincing Olivia to bed me, I had my work cut out for me. I understood the logic in Abe’s theory for breaking the curse. Break her heart, and if she loved me like I hoped she did, then she’d forgive me and free us. And she’d give me a chance to explain everything to her.

  With the paper from the king in my hand, I stepped into dreamscape. I was just going to start at the top and work my way down. Since I’d already taken Samantha, next up was a woman named Candy Jones. I grimaced at the name. Sounded like a stripper first name crossed with a run-of-the-mill housewife last name.

  I found her dream quickly and let out a soft chuckle as I stepped into it.

  The strip club was packed. Loud music pulsed in the air, the bass shaking my insides, and the strobing lights making me wince. I didn’t bother disguising myself this time. She’d do whatever to whoever. It was her job, just like this was mine.

  Walking up to the stage, I sat front and center, keeping my eyes focused on her as she danced. Her hips swung seductively making her tits bounce with the movement. I pulled a hundred dollar bill out of my pocket and waved it at her. She crawled on all fours to me, her lips parted, her blonde hair spilling around her.

  “What would you do for this?” I called out to her over the music.

  “Anything.” She giggled, grabbing me by the shirt and pushing my face into her bare breasts. She smelled like vanilla and regrets. Or maybe it was just something I could sense about her. She hated her life, a real-life stripper struggling to make ends meet. But, oh how she loved the attention. It was what kept her going.

  “I want to fuck you,” I breathed into her ear, causing goosebumps to scatter across her skin. I didn't have time to be coy. Foreplay was out the window. I just wanted to rail her and get the hell out of there.

  “OK,” she replied, pulling away from me and moving back to the center of the stage. She beckoned me forward, curling her finger in a ‘come here’ gesture. I looked around and saw that the club was still packed.

  Was she serious?

  Whatever. It was just a dream, and if it turned her on and got me her soul, I’d fuck her ten ways to Sunday.

  I hopped up on stage, tugging my shirt off along the way. Her blue eyes drank me in as I unzipped my pants to release my cock. I let my mind wander to Olivia’s face. Her body. Her smile. Instantly the erection came. Candy didn’t waste any time wrapping her fingers around it, a breathy giggle falling from her lips.

  “You want to do it here?” I asked, cupping one of her large breasts, my lips brushing against her ear as I whispered to her.

  “I’ve always wanted to be watched,” she admitted, her tongue flicking out to taste the skin on my neck. “And I’ve always wanted it to hurt.”

  I grimaced. Great. I had to put some effort in.

  “You want me to hurt you?” I ventured, my hands moving down to her G-string and giving it a tug. The material fell away easily and landed at our feet.

  “Yes,” she murmured, her lips skimming across my chest, her hand working my dick.

  Oh, Candy. You have no idea the kind of pain you’re in for. I’m not a mortal man. I’m a demon. We have two totally different definitions of pain.

  Without another word, I fisted her hair and jerked her head back roughly. Her lips parted as she stared back me with her big, blue eyes.

  “How bad do you want it to hurt?” I growled as I pulled her along the stage to the chair that had appeared. I wasn’t in the mood for this. Why couldn’t she just want me to take her to a damn bed and whisper sweet nothings in her ear? Why did it have to be this shit?

  “You’re the boss of me,” she groaned as I sat down, bringing her to her knees before me. “Do whatever you want to me.”

  Biting back my negativity, I reached out and pulled her onto my lap, bending her over my knees and cupping the swell of her ass with my palm. Without warning, my bare hand connected with the flesh of her ass with a loud smack, causing her to cry out in pain as red painted her skin. I smacked her again and again until she was writhing on my lap, trying to escape the rough hold I had on her hips. I let my nails dig into her side as she struggled to get away.

  Maybe I needed it. Maybe it was all the pent-up aggression that had been eating at me for two hundred years. Or maybe I was just a sick fuck who was given something to abuse and so took advantage of it. It was only a dream after all. And I was a demon.

  Her tears only drove me to smack her harder. She struggled to break free of me, but I wouldn’t allow it.

  “You wanted this,” I hissed through my teeth between each painful hit.

  “Y-yes,” she gurgled out, a sob escaping her lips. “More.”

  Her answer surprised me. I figured she’d be screaming for me to stop. Her subconscious made the watching crowd cheer. I looked out at the sea of excited faces and shuddered. This chick was seriously screwed up. The king would probably enjoy her quite a lot.

  A man in a suit approached the stage and tossed out a twenty, his dark eyes alight with anticipation.

  “Choke her,” he said, backing away.

  What the actual fuck?

  I’d been in some screwed up dreams over the years, but this one took the cake. Whatever. I had places to be. Namely, between her legs so I could get the hell out of there before I ended up getting choked.

  Easily, I flipped her small body over and was shocked when she changed the chair to a bed with black satin sheets. I loomed over her and placed my hand around her slender throat. She smiled up at me, her cheeks damp with tears and her breathing ragged.

  “Fuck me while you do it,” she said, batting her long lashes at me. “Hard.”

  Without a word, I tightened my grip around her neck, causing her back to arch. Positioning myself at her entrance, I thrust myself deeply inside. She let out a wail of pain as she took every last inch of me at once. My grip tightened around her neck as I pistoned in and out of her wet heat mercilessly. Her fingers clawed uselessly at my hands, her blue eyes reddening from being choked so hard. The slapping of my skin against hers echoed through the cheering of the crowd.

  I batted my lashes, the sweat from my hard work falling into my eyes, making them burn.

  Desperately, I tried to envision Olivia. But I couldn’t. Not like this. I’d never hurt her like this. Never wrap my fingers around her neck and squeeze. And I’d never fuck her to the point that she wept tears of pain.

  Instead, I concentrated on my anger. I focused on hating what I’d become. I envisioned how I was going to get out of this mess and claim Olivia for good.

  Finally, I spilled myself inside of Candy with a loud, low groan, feeling the heat from her soul swell inside of me.

  The room emptied, the patrons of our escapade vanishing as her life left her. Then it was the two of us on the bed in the quiet club. I pressed a kiss to her cool forehead, hating everything I was.

  “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  I withdrew from her body and draped the satin sheet over her, making sure to gather my clothes and put them on before I stepped back into dreamscape.

  Pulling the list out, I checked off her name.

  “One more closer to Olivia,” I murmured,
stuffing the list back into my pocket. Hastily, I began sorting through the dreams in front of me, looking for the next one on the list.

  It was going to be a long night.

  Olivia

  It had been a week. A whole week since I’d last seen Donovan in my dreams, and the last time, it wasn’t long enough. It was just a quick peek. A tease. He appeared, kissed me, and then… he vanished before my eyes while telling me to rest.

  It was weird. I’d been sleeping more than usual, but I was still exhausted. It was like, even though I was asleep, I was really awake in my dreams, and instead of gaining energy, I was losing it.

  The past week, I’d done nothing but sleep, yet I was so tired, I couldn’t even dream. I missed him. I missed his soft lips on mine. I missed staring into his deep, midnight-colored eyes, and I missed his heat, always hot to the point of melting me when we touched.

  I gathered my things from my desk and trudged down the stairs, toward the kitchen — intending on grabbing a quick breakfast and getting to school.

  Mom was behind the counter, mixing up her famous fruit smoothie. “Good morning, hon. How are you feeling today?” she asked when her eyes locked on mine. She was dressed in her navy-blue nurse scrubs, and even though she’d worked until midnight, she still looked beautiful with her makeup perfect and her red hair pulled into a high ponytail with curls cascading down her back.

  I shrugged as I dropped my bag onto the floor and moved about to make myself a piece of toast. “Wonderful as usual, Mom.”

  The grind of the blender filled the kitchen, drowning out all other noise as I toasted the bread and snagged the jelly.

  Once I put everything away, I leaned against the counter, nibbling, as Mom poured the smoothie into a glass and handed it over.

  “I have a surprise for you!” she gushed with a wide smile and sparkling eyes.

  I hated surprises — usually because it was more of a shock than a surprise. “What?” I asked, my voice revealing how excited I wasn’t.

  “Your birthday is next week!” she squealed.

  A grin tugged at my lips. “That’s not much of a surprise.”

  She rolled her eyes playfully. “That’s not the surprise, silly girl. I’m planning you a party! I’ve already rented out the dance hall!”

  I groaned. “Why would you do that? You know I hate surprises.”

  “It’s your eighteenth birthday, Olivia. We have to celebrate!”

  “No, we don’t. Please, just cancel it.” I threw away what was left of my toast, no longer interested in food.

  “I can’t cancel. Besides, I’ve already invited your friends.”

  I nearly choked on the last bite I was chewing. “What friends?” Honestly, the only friend I had was Anita. But she’d said friends: plural.

  She stiffened as she turned to clean up her mess. Deftly, she grabbed the basket of strawberries and turned to put them away. While she was bent over with her head in the fridge, she said, “I may have logged into your old Facebook account and invited everyone on your friends list.” The words rushed out of her mouth faster than I could process.

  My mouth dropped open. “What?” I rushed around the island to stand in front of her. “How could you do that, Mom? Those people are not my friends.”

  It was stupid of me to even open the account. Everyone in school was on Facebook. And I wanted to see what it was all about. I was surprised when I started getting friend requests. Little did I know, they were all sent as just another way to bully me. When I figured it out, I logged out and never got back on. I was sure she probably read the endless string of messages that called me names or told me I was a waste of space and I should just kill myself.

  “Olivia,” she stated my name flatly. “You’re my only child, and in a few short months, you’re going to be leaving for college. Please, let me throw you this party.”

  Guilt ate at me, and my shoulders fell as I gave in to her wishes. “Fine.”

  She smiled widely. “Thank you. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.” She beamed.

  “I bet it will,” I mumbled as I turned to leave.

  I drove myself to school in a daze. A mix of thoughts regarding the party and Donovan swirled. Having Donovan there might ease the sting of betrayal I was sure my tormentors were already planning. Why couldn’t he be real?

  When I pulled into my usual parking space in the school parking lot, I saw Wes step out of his black, souped-up Mustang. His hands slid into his pockets, and his eyes locked on me.

  I shut off my car and took a deep breath before stepping out and tugging my bag onto my shoulder.

  “I’ve been talking to everyone over the past week,” he said, stepping up to me.

  I rolled my eyes and pushed myself forward, refusing to let him slow me down. “And?”

  He jogged up to my side. “And… they’ve all agreed to cut down on the shit they’ve been giving you.”

  My brows skyrocketed as I came to an abrupt stop. “Did you have to sacrifice a virgin or something?” I half joked. I thought it’d take a miracle to get them off my back.

  “No,” he said, confusion showing on his face. “I just told them we’d given you enough shit so we should lay off for a bit. Oh, and we’re all planning on going to your birthday party.”

  “Grrreat,” I mumbled as I turned and walked away from him.

  The morning passed unusually slowly. I sat in my classes and had no choice but to pay attention since sleep and Donovan wouldn’t come.

  Finally, lunch rolled around. I grabbed my tray, and once I picked up some food I sat at my usual table, waiting for Anita. I was surprised when Wes sat down instead.

  I looked at him, speechless.

  He raised his dark eyebrows in response, daring me to say something.

  I opened my mouth, but no sounds came out.

  Finally, Anita dropped her tray down onto the table with a clatter, stealing my attention, and looked between the two of us. “Did I miss something here?”

  I looked from her to Wes and then back. He did the same.

  “Liv didn’t tell you that we’ve been hanging out for a few days now?” Wes asked her.

  Anita looked at me. “No. Are you two friends now or something?”

  My day had been pretty quiet so far. Nobody knocked my books from my hands as I walked down the hallway. I hadn’t been called a single name. And, even Brent walked by me without calling me by the nickname he gave me: Butt Whore.

  So far, Wes had held up his end of the deal.

  I nodded once. “Yeah. He saved me last week and gave me a ride home. We’ve been hanging out ever since. He’s a pretty nice guy, despite his asshole friends.”

  He smiled, happy I was playing along.

  Anita shrugged and took her seat, choosing to ignore the weirdness.

  “So, Anita, are you planning on going to Liv’s party too?” Wes asked.

  She was in middle of unwrapping her burger but froze with the question. “Too? You’re going?”

  He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, we all are.”

  Anger painted her face. “I swear to God, Wes Monroe, if you and your gang of lowlifes are going to her party with plans to fuck with her, I won’t stop until I get payback on each and every one of you. Got it?” She pointed her finger at him.

  He visibly swallowed. “It’s not like that, Anita. I swear. We’re cool.” Honesty lit up his face.

  She studied him while squinting her eyes but didn’t argue any further.

  The rest of lunch went by smoothly. Anita and I talked about the party. Wes offered up some ideas of his own to liven it up a bit. I was sure my mom had all kinds of childish games planned. By the end of the hour, I felt like I’d done a pretty good job of holding up my end of the deal. Anita even agreed to go to Wes’s house to create a playlist of music for everyone to dance to.

  When the bell rang, indicating that lunch was over, the three of us stood and tossed our trash on the way out of the lunchroom. At the end of the hall, we went our separate ways to
head to our next classes. I swung by my locker and got the books I needed. Then I decided to hit up the restroom before heading to class.

  Just as I stepped into the bathroom, the bell rang, meaning I was late. I rolled my eyes and grumbled as I dropped my books onto the sink.

  After finishing washing my hands, the door creaked open behind me. My eyes snapped to the mirror. Brent walked up behind me. I spun around quickly. “This is the girls’ restroom. You can’t come in here.”

  He let out a deep chuckle. “I can do anything I damn well please around here. Don’t you know that, Butt Whore?” He came closer, and with every step, I took one backwards.

  “I don’t know what you did to get Wes on your side, but it’s not going to work for long, you know.”

  I was out of steps. My back pressed to the wall, and he took his final step toward me, pressing his chest against mine. “What did you do? Suck him off? Did you fuck him to get him on your side?”

  “I-I didn’t do anything.” I shook my head, fear drenching my words as I balled up my fists and put my forearms on his chest to try and push him away.

  He scoffed. “You know, all you had to do was give me what I wanted, and I could’ve stopped it all. I didn’t realize you were willing to barter.” His hand landed on my breast with a firm squeeze, but I pushed it away. “In fact, we can still trade. You know Wes won’t be able to hold them off for long. But me… I can get the job done.” He forced himself on me, pressing his lips to mine. His tongue slithered into my mouth while his hands pulled at my shirt. I fought against him, pushing him away while trying to slide out from beneath him, but his hold was too strong. He somehow managed to get his hands up my shirt, and he gripped my breast painfully, causing me to cry out against his mouth.

  He finally broke the kiss and covered my mouth with his hand to quiet my cries for help. His eyes darkened as they dropped to look down my body. “You know, I could take anything I wanted from you right now.” He grinned as he placed his knee between my legs and wedged them apart. While one hand covered my mouth, the other pressed against my sex, rubbing back and forth over my jeans. “But, I think we’ll save this for your birthday party. I’ll make sure I give you something you’ll always remember.” He stepped back and released me. Spinning, he started walking out of the bathroom but stopped and turned back toward me.

 

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