Page 42 of Alec

A sense of serenity came over her, and she smiled at her enraged aunt. We’ve kissed and hugged. We even slept together in the same bed. I’m going to do whatever he wants, and you can’t stop it. You can’t lock me up and starve me anymore. You’re dead, and you’ll never be able to hurt me again.

Her aunt stumbled in reverse until she left through the cottage’s back door, which slammed shut. All the broken dishes then reassembled themselves as if smashing in reverse, and vanished. A moment later so did the cottage. Her eight-year-old self was left standing in the dark with the younger version of Alec, who appeared relieved.

I’m sorry about Aunt Mae. Olivia reached out to take hold of his hand. She hated me because I ruined her life. She couldn’t take responsibility for what she did, so she blamed me.

A forest of oaks, pines and evergreens grew up around Olivia, as fragrant as Alec’s own body scent. Thick, soft-looking beds of moss spread out under her feet. Thin beams of sunlight pierced the tree canopy and lit the air around her, through which tiny bits of dandelion fluff floated. It seemed like the woods outside Dun Talamh, but they were only an illusion. This place looked even more real than she did.

Did you mean what you said to her? That you shall do whatever I desire of you?

Olivia turned around, trying to see where Alec was now. Instead of that horribly thin, battered boy he had been, he stepped out of the shadows looking so handsome, so utterly perfect that she reached out to be sure she could touch him.

Yes. I meant it. I want to be with you.

Alec tugged her into his arms, sweeping one hand up her spine to tangle his fingers in her hair. When she tipped her head back to look at him his beauty made her gasp, and she closed her eyes as he bent his head. He stopped just short of kissing her, however.

I wish to show you what I desire. Look.

When Olivia opened her eyes she saw walls of polished silver surrounding them, and on each one there was an image of her and the war master. She wasn’t quite herself in the reflections; she had different eyes, and freckles on her face. She wore her hair in long braids that came undone as she knelt naked before Alec.

I’m yours, War Master, the reflections said in Olivia’s voice. Do with me what you wish.

The image of Alec reached into his trews and pulled out his penis, which he gripped as he watched her. The freckled Olivia then took him in her hand and began to stroke him.

I shall do whatever you desire, War Master. I wish to please you. Tell me.

Olivia wondered if this was what he wanted, a dream within a dream. Slowly she looked down at herself as her own clothes vanished, and knew she had to make a choice. She didn’t even hesitate as she knelt down before him.

I meant what I said, she told him, putting her hand on his shaft the way the reflections had, and guiding his broad cockhead to her lips. Taking him into her mouth was the most intimate thing she’d ever done for a man in her life, but here she was, ready to suck Alec McKeran’s cock as if she had been born only for that purpose. You don’t have to show me anything. I want you, the real you.

Are you certain? He thrust gently, making his thick girth glide in and out of her lips. I want to own you, wench. You shall be mine and mine alone.

This was his dream, Olivia realized, and some sort of test. If that’s what you want, then own me.

Making love to him with her mouth was slow, sensual torture. She discovered she loved the weight and thickness of him pushing in and out of her mouth, the earthy scent that came with every thrust, and the subtle changes in his body as pleasure suffused him. He swelled even larger when she tugged on him, eager and greedy to taste his cream.

Suddenly Alec pushed her back onto the mossy forest floor, the trees closing in around them as he knelt over her and put her hand under his on his shaft, and his other hand between her thighs. He rubbed her throbbing clit as he stroked her hand over his pulsing cock, and together they climaxed. As she arched under him, impaled by his long fingers and rubbed to mind-blowing delight by his thumb, white spurts of his seed painted her breasts and belly.

’Tis time to wake, lass.

Olivia opened her eyes to see the rafters of Alec’s room. The weight of his arm lay across her hip, her skirt yanked up around her waist, and his hand was cupping her drenched pussy. From the slowly fading throbbing there she knew the orgasm she’d had in the dream had been quite real. She had her hand inside his trews, and when she slipped it out the slick fluids on her fingers told her he’d also reached his peak. When she turned her head she saw him watching her, his eyes sleepy.

It seemed perfectly natural to turn toward him and tuck her face against his neck. “Are you okay?”

“Aye.” He splayed his hand over the small of her back. “That woman in the dream, she’s your aunt? The one who locked you away?”

Olivia didn’t want to tell him—she’d never told anyone but her therapist—but he’d seen what her childhood had been like.

“She was my biological mother, not my aunt,” she said slowly. “I found out the truth after she died. She was seventeen when she became pregnant with me. She never told the boy who was my father, or anyone who might have helped her. Instead, she took some money from her parents, ran away from home and raised me by herself. Her name wasn’t even Mae Gibson. It was McKell Gardner.”

“Everything I saw, ’twas as she did to you.” Alec wasn’t asking.

Olivia drew back and plucked idly at the end of one of his tunic laces. “Not everything in the dream was real. Like what we did at the end, that was...very sexy, but we didn’t actually do that.”

“Mayhap,” he said, stroking her arm. “Why do you speak so gently of your aunt? Instead of caring for you, she terrified and starved you, lass.”

“I went to see a doctor after Mae died who helped me understand why she treated me so badly. Her sickness was probably rooted in her own upbringing. An illness some new mothers suffer called postpartum depression may have made things worse. She may have wanted to blame someone else for the choices she made.” She met his gaze. “Since I was the result of them, she took out her anger and distress on me.”

Alec kissed her brow. “’Twas never your fault, Olivia.”