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“My dreams are always sweeter with you, mo róisín,” he says.
“I know,” I say with a soft sigh.
If only I could bring him into my waking reality, swap him out for the real Rainer. At first I chuckle at the thought, then my heart pangs. Real-Rainer might not be as soft and sweet as dream-Rainer, but he doesn’t need to be. It’s his wounds, his tortured soul and conflicted heart that make him what he is. It makes the kindness he does offer that much more special.
“What are you thinking, Alessia?”
I smile at him.“I was wishing that dreams were reality.” That I could keep both you and real-Rainer, but instead, I get neither. Bits of each, but wholes of neither.
“So was I,” he whispers.
He gives me an indecipherable look. I step closer, reaching up to run a finger over the tip of his ear. His body relaxes under my touch, cold eyes blazing with heat, and I fight the urge to close the small distance between us and wrap my arms around him. My subconscious surely knows how to tease me with him.
I miss touch.
I miss being touched.
If it’s only a dream. Why fight it at all?
I give in at precisely the same moment Rainer does. We move toward each other, and when we connect, it’s with something more powerful than simple attraction.
He cups my cheeks in his hands, forcing me to look up at him, and I run my fingers through the back of his hair.
“I wish this were real, mo róisín,” he whispers, leaning toward me. I think he might kiss me, but instead, he rests his forehead against mine.
His lips hover above mine tentatively, as if testing the territory. My stomach twists with a beautiful mix of nervousness and desire. His warm breath caresses my mouth.
Leaning into him, I press our mouths together. He groans, gripping the back of my head with a strong hand to keep me in place. His plump lips are so soft, so sweet, as we kiss desperately.
A fire builds inside me, unlike everything I’d ever experienced.
I want more of him.
But the world around us goes dark. It shakes and shatters, everything around us crumbling as it disappears.
I wake with a start. My body is hot with desire and confusion, and my core aches for release.
Without giving it too much thought, I give in to what the dream started. My fingers travel down my body, lifting up my nightgown and slipping beneath. My back arches slightly when I find my tender spot.
Pressure builds—a mixture of blind need and pending release—as I imagine Rainer’s head between my legs.
Moments later, as I tip over the edge, moaning softly to myself, the door flies open. Light from the hallway floods me, and I yelp.
“Human,” Rainer calls. “We—” He freezes, his eyes wide as he catches me in the compromising position.
Frazzled, I yank my dress down and pull the sheets up around me, scrambling to cover up my naked lower half. But I know it’s too late.
Glancing up at him, even in the dim light, I can see a flush coloring his cheeks. I’m sure it matches my own.
“I was just—” I say, at the same time he says, “I should have knocked."
He clears his throat, refusing to look at me. His eyes stay glued to the ceiling.
“What do you need?” I ask, anger rising in place of the mortification. He has no right to barge in during the night.
“I—nevermind. It can wait.” His voice is thicker than usual.
Before I have a chance to press him, or scold him for his poor manners, he says in a strained tone, “stay in your rooms for the night. It’s—not safe to leave the castle right now,” and swiftly exits the way he came, slamming the door behind him.
