Dream Warriors 1_Gareth

by Cyndi Friberg

  Her breasts swelled, their tips sensitive and tight. Deep in her feminine core the throbbing rhythm of desire erupted with demanding intensity. How could a kiss, a simple kiss, make her whole body ache? They had just spent hours indulging their carnal passions!

  He cupped her breast with his hand as he eased her away. “Do you burn for me, succubus? Are you hot and wet, ready to be filled by me?”

  She trembled. His breath fanned her kiss-moistened lips and amplified the throbbing between her thighs. “I burn.”

  “Good.” Lowering his hand, he turned back to the fire. “Return with information that pleases me and I will please you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Meagan emerged from the nightmare gradually. She wanted to be as far away from the incubus as humanly possible, but lethargy pulled at her senses like a warm current. Shame and humiliation tempted her to avoid reality.

  But her attacker didn’t exist in reality. Her assailant polluted the intimate sanctuary of her mind, so where could she find refuge?

  With a helpless sob, Meagan opened her eyes.

  Gareth’s light green gaze stared back at her. “Gareth?” Her eyes snapped shut and she waited for the last of the terror to recede.

  Think. She had to make sense of this madness. The incubus couldn’t harm her as long as she was awake, but Gareth only existed in her dreams. So, where the hell was she?

  Hot tears escaped beneath her lashes. Fingers gently brushed them away. She gasped. Hesitantly, she lifted her lids. Those light green eyes remained, but little by little the rest of his face came into focus. “Justin?”

  “Which name makes you more comfortable?”

  “Where am I?” She placed her hand against his chest, meaning to push him away. His skin was warm and inviting, the muscle beneath her palm firmly pronounced. Her hand lingered.

  “We’re in your bedroom. Morpheus brought you here. Ms. Vellmos was attempting to protect you, but she couldn’t accept the nature of our enemy.”

  Images flashed through her mind, frightening echoes, and distant voices. Justin had burst into the guestroom and attempted to awaken her. The incubus had increased its control, smothering her screams and paralyzing her body. After that there had been only the incubus, its rancid breath and hurtful hands, until she heard Gareth urging her to resist, to allow him into the dream.

  Justin arched over her, not touching, just hovering. Panic sent her wiggling out from under him and she sat, panting and confused. She trembled and an occasional tear trailed down her cheek, but she knew the danger was past. At least for now, the incubus was gone.

  “Do you know Gareth or are you Gareth?”

  He sat as well. Scooting to the edge of the bed, he put one foot on the floor and bent his other leg in front of him. “Morpheus has arranged for me to use this body while we battle the incubus. It will allow me to interact with you in both the dream and waking realms.”

  “Why did you deny who you were that first day? I suspected it was you the minute I looked into your eyes.”

  “We had hoped to minimize your involvement.” He took her hand, stroking her fingers gently. “I was supposed to protect you. I’m so sorry, Meagan. I failed.”

  The need to reassure him pushed through her vulnerability, releasing an unexpected surge of strength. She embraced it eagerly. She had felt so isolated by these attacks, abandoned by a world that didn’t understand, didn’t believe what she was suffering was real. This man believed. It didn’t matter what name he used, he understood what was happening to her.

  She wasn’t alone.

  “You didn’t fail, Gareth,” she whispered. “I’m alive. I’m sane.” She squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “I’m ready to fight.”

  He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You’re amazing.”

  Unimpressed by his praise, she focused on the determination rapidly building within her. Information was power and she would never be powerless again. “What does it want? Why is it attacking me?”

  He heaved an audible sigh and stood, her hand slipping from his loosened grasp. “I’m not supposed to give you specific information. I might inadvertently change the course of history, but I’m so far outside my usual mission parameters, I don’t know what is permissible. To be honest with you, all we have right now are theories.”

  “Theories? Theories about what?”

  “Your work. This has to do with your work.”

  “The Bental-2 virus?” She drew up her legs under her nightgown and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I was making significant progress right before the attacks began. I’d nearly proven my hypothesis. So, this was no coincidence. The incubus wants to keep me from completing my research, but why? What does it gain by preventing this development?”

  Justin shook his head, his gaze darting away. “The question is, who benefits from preventing this development? The incubus is a minion, more than likely under someone else’s control.”

  “How do we find out who controls the incubus and how do we keep it from attacking me again?” She crawled off the bed and stood beside him. Loneliness closed in, making her restless. She needed to touch him, to reassure herself that he was real. “I don’t think I can go through it again, Gareth. I don’t think…”

  She stepped toward him and he turned, taking her gently in his arms. “I’m here. I’ve maintained a link to your subconscious. The incubus cannot isolate you again.”

  “You said it was attracted to me because…if we make love will it…”

  He eased her away from his chest and framed her face between his palms. “Sweetheart, I don’t want to make love to you only because you’re afraid of the incubus.”

  “This is your mission, remember? Pleasure for pain. I want to feel something -- @@anything@@ other than this emptiness. That creature…”

  Guiding her head to his shoulder, he let her cry. He rocked her gently, stroked her hair, and whispered soothing phrases or just her name. She clung to him, her hands moving absently across his naked back.

  “Kiss me. Please, Gareth.” He feathered kisses across her face coming no closer than the corner of her mouth. Meagan squirmed, trying to anticipate his movements, until she finally took his face between her hands and nipped his lower lip. “Kiss me, now.”

  He chuckled, returning the nip and then laving the tiny hurt with his tongue. “Are you sure? I can hold you until we fall sleep, then I’ll make love to you in your dreams.”

  “No.” She shuddered. “I have to do it for real before I’ll be able to do it there.”

  “Okay, but…I wasn’t prepared for this. I don’t have protection.”

  She lowered her face, resting her forehead on his chest. “I don’t keep condoms in my nightstand. I’ve never done this before.”

  He gave her a quick kiss. “It’ll be okay. It’ll just be a little unconventional.”

  “Unconventional?” She wiggled away from him. “Maybe we better wait.”

  “Maybe you should trust me,” he countered, his fingers encircling her wrist. “If you honestly want to wait, we’ll wait, but you’re right. This is my mission.”

  Staring up into his glittering eyes, Meagan felt her inhibitions melt. What did she have to lose? Her unwanted virginity. Her horrible memories. Certainly nothing worth keeping. He offered comfort and tenderness, and she longed for both.

  “Well, we can’t have you failing your mission.”

  His mouth covered hers. Taking advantage of her smile, he eased his tongue between her parted lips. Meagan slid her hands across his chest, enjoying the heat and the texture of his hair-roughened skin. He angled his head, his hand cupping the back of her neck. His tongue stroked across hers, inviting her to play, encouraging her response.

  She didn’t notice him busily undoing the buttons of her nightgown until the garment slipped off her shoulder. His warm palm covered her breast and Meagan sighed. She was so ready for this. Her entire body vibrated with anticipation.

  Sitting on the side of t
he bed, he drew her between his legs, his hands sneaking under her nightgown. He cupped her bottom, burying his face between her breasts. “Your skin is so soft.” He nuzzled, using his nose to separate her gown until his mouth fastened onto bare skin. “And warm.”

  His hands wandered beneath her gown while his teeth worked to expose more skin. He found her tender nipple with his fingers, then his lips as his teeth dragged her gown aside. She arched. His lips sealed over her, drawing her deeply into his mouth. The firm suction caused her nipple to harden and burn. Threading her fingers through his hair, she pressed herself closer.

  Releasing her nipple with obvious reluctance, he said, “Take off your nightgown. I want all of you.”

  The urgency in his tone sent tingles skittering down Meagan’s spine. She pulled the gown off over her head and tossed it aside. He cupped her breasts with both hands before she could complete the motion. His thumbs flicked her nipples, each touch synchronized. She rested her hands on his shoulders and leaned into his teasing hands.

  “I need to know one thing, but it’s the only thing I’ll ask.”

  His hands stilled against her breasts as he waited for her to respond. “All right.”

  “During the attacks…I want to take you in a different position than you were in when you were attacked.”

  She shuddered violently, but what he said made sense. “He was always on top of me, holding me down.”

  “Okay, we’ll try something a little less --”

  “Conventional?”

  “Yeah.”

  He stood and shucked his jeans. Meagan pulled off her panties, giving herself an excuse to turn around. His arm encircled her waist and he swept her hair away from her neck, his mouth exploring the sensitive skin beneath. Shivering, she tilted her head and moved her hair farther up, exposing her nape. Accepting the invitation, he nibbled and sucked until each ticklish tingle made her quiver and moan.

  “You like that?” His moist breath played across her skin.

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Unfamiliar sensations gathered low in her belly, making her restless, achy.

  He turned her in his arms, his hands skimming over her torso, lightly cupping her breasts, descending along her sides before he started caressing again. Was he intentionally avoiding the areas of her body that longed most for his touch? She twisted, trying to bring her breasts against his palms, but he ignored the silent plea and continued to torment her.

  His mouth covered hers in a slow, deep kiss as he guided her backward, pressing her shoulders to the wall beside the window. Grasping her waist, he lowered himself to his knees, pausing to nuzzle the underside of her breasts. Gently, he raised her foot to his thigh and angled her leg out, opening her for him. Meagan stiffened. Why was he on his knees?

  He descended to her belly and she tangled her fingers in his hair. “I don’t want that, Gareth. Don’t use your mouth on me.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you. I want to make sure you’re ready.”

  “So touch me. Use your fingers. I don’t want…”

  Nudging her thighs farther apart, he exhaled his hot breath across her feminine curls. “I’m just going to touch you. Relax.”

  Each word stirred his breath against her moist flesh. Oh heavens, it felt good. She relaxed a bit, resting her head against the wall and his fingers were there, pushing through her folds and into the very heart of her body. A smooth twist of his wrist and those clever fingers spiraled deep into her core.

  “That’s right,” he murmured. “Now I’m going to touch you right here.” He gently parted her. “With my tongue.”

  She started to protest, but the tip of his tongue drew a tight little circle and her inner muscles fluttered, squeezing his fingers. It felt wonderful! He pulled back and pushed deeper. She moaned, arching her back, surrendering to the pleasure.

  Each gentle touch of his tongue released a separate wave of sensation. She squeezed his fingers while his tongue tenderly caressed her clit. If his fingers felt this good…

  He slid his fingers in and out. The slow, teasing glide made her wild for the stretching fullness of real penetration. His lips closed around her nub and he carefully sucked it into his mouth. Meagan cried out, her back bowed and her legs gave out beneath her.

  Gareth gathered her into his arms, stroking her hair until her senses returned. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  She blinked repeatedly, but didn’t speak.

  “Are you ready for more or ready for sleep?”

  Chuckling softly, she struggled up from his lap. “Now that’s a loaded question if I ever heard one. If I go to sleep, no doubt your alter ego will only finish the job.”

  “No doubt.”

  He led her to the bed and lifted her to the mattress before he stretched out on his back and hooked his hands behind his head. “The next move is yours, sweetheart. Here I am. Come and get me.”

  His borrowed body lacked the muscular definition Gareth had acquired over a millennium, but he recognized attraction in her light brown eyes. She knelt beside his hips and studied him, unconsciously licking her lips.

  Gareth groaned. Oh, to feel that warm, soft mouth enveloping his aching erection. “Do whatever you like, just do something.”

  She chuckled and her hand touched his hip, inching toward the source of his discomfort. “I’ve seen a…penis before, you know,” she said calmly. “I’m not a complete…” She closed her hand around his…penis and her words trailed away.

  Gareth grinned. She could call it whatever she wanted so long as she didn’t move her hand. Well, actually he wanted her to move her hand, just not remove her hand.

  She touched him, tentatively at first, but soon with a rhythm that had him bucking and groaning. Her clever fingers encircled his shaft, while she cupped his aching balls with her other hand. Heat enveloped him, made him groan, made him pound with desire so demanding he was afraid he’d spill his seed before he ever got inside her.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I really need --”

  She bent her head and kissed the very tip of his shaft. Every muscle in Gareth’s body clenched and he expelled a ragged gasp. “I don’t know how quickly this body recovers. We better wait until I’ve…”

  “Deflowered me?” she asked dramatically.

  He laughed at the phrase, but nodded. “Swing your leg over, straddle my hips.” Still sitting, he helped her into position, kneeling across his lap. “Now lift up a bit and kiss me.” Her thighs flexed as she raised her hips. He opened his mouth to welcome her tongue and positioned himself to take her.

  Hesitating just inside her entrance, Gareth shook with the pleasure of being surrounded by her heat, the moist welcome of her body. Slow or fast? Which would hurt her the least? He generally enjoyed a slow, gradual entrance, but this was different. He suspected a quick, hard thrust would be more merciful.

  Grabbing her hips with both hands, he kissed her deeply, thoroughly, until she sagged against him, responding wildly. Then, he braced his legs and thrust up as he forced her hips down with his hands. She cried out, her nails biting into his shoulders.

  “All done,” he whispered, easing them over onto their sides.

  “What do you mean all done?” she cried. “I can still feel you inside me and I know I sure as hell didn’t…I mean I’m not finished.”

  He stroked her flushed cheek, and pulling out of her clinging, hot body about cost him his sanity. “Go to sleep, Meagan. We can’t finish until you go to sleep.”

  Chapter Nine

  Delilah loitered in the Hall of the Dead impatiently waiting for her brother. Even changing her appearance without warning held no amusement for her this evening. The startled gasps and appreciative glances had kept her entertained for several hours, but midnight approached and Zared had yet to appear.

  The Hall of the Dead was a dismal place. Scarred trestle tables stretched as far as the eye could see. Ridiculously medieval. Hades preferred his luxurious palace and his simpering wife Persephone to the realities
of the world he ruled. It was an irony that had long since cost Hades her respect. The god of the Underworld should not be afraid of the dead.

  “It’s thoughts like that that landed you in the pit.”

  Delilah gasped and spun to face Zared.

  “Don’t sneak up on me, you fool. I could have skewered you.” She jabbed at him with her dagger, but he didn’t bother to dodge the blade. Being semi-corporeal affected them differently. She was able to change her shape at will. He never quite solidified.

  “You’re standing in the Hall of the Dead with your knife drawn. Guess I don’t need to ask who inspired this tantrum.”

  “I don’t throw tantrums, Zared.” She huffed. “The dagger helps me think.”

  “Yes, I heard what you were thinking. And I’m not the only one capable of reading your mind, so I’d be more respectful in my thoughts regarding Hades.”

  Sliding the dagger into the loop at her waist, she glared at his fluctuating features. “How did Gareth get in? The charm you had should have insured your success.”

  He floated through the bench to her right and then solidified enough to sit. “The charm worked perfectly. I led Meagan into the dream realm and blocked Gareth’s entrance before he had the chance to follow.”

  Biting back a caustic remark, Delilah filled her tone with patronizing mockery. “I know how things began and I know how things were supposed to transpire, but you didn’t answer my question. How did Gareth get in?”

  He laughed, unmoved by her exasperation. “The mortal roused enough to let him in. You frequently underestimate the strength of the human spirit. I, on the other hand, am ever amazed by their…resilience.”

  “How fortunate for you.” She sneered. “How long before you can go back?”

  Waving her back, he rose through the bench, and stood. “Returning to Meagan is pointless. She understands too much. Besides, the Dream Warrior is linked with her now. I have no chance of isolating her again. We must adjust our plans.”