In Dreams, Darkness 02

Author's note:

New to this and didn't set this up as a series, so this is part 2. Thanks for reading! Sorry for any formatting issues!

Chapter 2

Jeff guides us through the apartment, still kissing me. I stumble a little as we reach the door to his bedroom and laugh nervously into his mouth.

His bedroom. High ceilings, minimal and shadowed. A king size bed sits in the center, two whole walls of floor to ceiling glass let in the darkness of the city and its flickering lights. When he backs me into the bed, I let myself fall and land on its softness.

Jeff stands there a moment, looking down at me. His curly hair dark, the silver streaks catching the light. His beautiful eyes taking every inch of me in like he's starving. I prop myself up on my elbows and open my legs a little.

"Come," I whisper, surprising myself a little with my boldness.

The deep breath he takes in when I say it, when I move my legs to invite him. I start saying his name again, and he's on me. His body against mine, his kiss fierce.

Fuck. It's like a drug. The way his hands move slowly down my sides to the hem of my shirt. The way he kisses all over my face, down my neck. Sucking on my skin right below my ear, finding the spot that literally turns me into a puddle.

He knows all of this. He knows how to drive me crazy. His hands ignite fire along my skin as they drift up under my shirt to my ribs. I want him to touch my breasts, I want his mouth on my nipples.

"Fuck..." I whisper, and I feel his lips curve against my skin as he kisses down my chest. So close to where I want him. So close.

"God I've wanted this," he murmurs against my skin. "I've wanted you."

He brings his mouth to mine again, drowning me with another drugging kiss. The teasing way he moves his tongue, sucks my lower lip into his mouth before gently biting it a little makes goosebumps erupt on my skin. I arch into him, my pussy wet and needy, only breaking the kiss for a moment to catch my breath.

I can't even think properly when he's kissing me like that, his movements so hypnotic. His pacing perfectly aligned with mine.

I kiss across his jaw, the stubble on his cheek, down his neck, my hips grinding slowly like they have a life of their own against his cock, thick and rock hard through his pants.

He groans when I run my hand through his thick curls, breathe him in. He smells so good, just a hint of cologne and like he's equipped with whatever biological triggers exist to draw me in. I don't remember ever wanting someone the way I want this man, awake or asleep.

His jaw flexes when I move against him a little, encouraging him.

"Keep touching me," I whisper.

He closes his eyes, rests his head against my shoulder for just a moment. I can feel his heart racing, it's beating so hard. And then he starts kissing my shoulder and my neck, lifting up my shirt gently as he does.

I'm not wearing a bra, and the cool air hits my nipples and makes them harden before he even touches them.

"Fuck..." he breathes, his lips tracing down the bare skin of my breasts right around my nipples, but not directly touching them yet. "Your body... Jules. God. You're perfect."

I shimmy the rest of the way out of my shirt, let it fall behind me. His eyes rove my breasts and stomach with such intensity, hungry and blazing, that it makes me almost want to cover myself.

I've never felt desired quite like this. It's empowering and somehow intimidating at the same time.

I flush, reaching out to start lifting his shirt, too. The moment of shyness passes as quickly as it came, and now I want nothing more than to feel his bare skin against mine.

He sits up on his knees a moment and helps me to take it off, and my breath catches in my chest at the sight of his body. Smooth, tanned skin. His chest... arms, shoulders, abs... fuck. He's perfectly cut, not too bulky, yet he looks strong enough to hold me down and throw me around. He's lean, sinuous. The kind of body that drives me crazy.

"Oh fuck..." I whisper, before I can help myself, and he smiles a little and gestures to me.

"My exact thought," he says, and then he wraps his arms around me and brings me flush against him so that I'm on his thighs. The strength in his body feels like I'm not wrong in my ideas about what he could do to me. I can feel his hard cock against my pussy through my leggings and I moan.

"Jeff..." I whisper, before his mouth is on mine again for another hot, deep kiss.

He's making me feel like I'm quickly losing all control over myself. The way I can't stop moaning into his mouth. The way his bare skin feels against mine... his chest against my tits, his hands roving my body, down my back. I'm getting so lost in him and I don't want to stop.

He trails wet, open mouth kisses down my neck to my chest and breasts, finally taking one of my nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it as he sucks. My head falls back as the blood in my veins ignites and heat spreads from my core outward at the sensation. I press into him, my pussy throbbing with need.

"God, Daddy," I moan, and then almost instantly my body freezes up in horror.

I've never called a man that in my life, and I'm fucking mortified. I find myself pushing him away and sliding down out of his lap, like I've been smacked with reality and finally realized what I'm doing. Like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over my head.

I grab the blanket beneath us, yanking at it until I cover my body, my cheeks hot with embarrassment.

"Hey," he says softly, sitting back on his heels. His eyes are dark, and I'm not sure how to read them now, with the distance between us and the high of our electric intimacy suddenly dampened. But his voice is gentle enough to sooth my nerves a little.

"Jules, hey... it's okay."

I feel stupid and confused and somehow bad for abruptly pulling away. "I've never called someone that... before... like- like this," I say, closing my eyes.

The fact that he's older than me is suddenly looming large in my mind, too. I'm not sure how much older, but the silver in his hair and the way his eyes crinkle a little when he smiles tells me he's not thirty like I am, and for some reason I feel like I've done something wrong.

The thing is, I've never been with a man more than a year or two older than I am. Never called a man daddy.

I was raised by just my ultra feminist mother who HATES that women call men that outside of being maybe five years old with their actual fathers. It's one of many things ingrained in my head about sex and relationships as being wrong and gross.

Dreaming or not, I was raised with a very real sense of shame, and it's just hit me like a ton of bricks.

I take a deep breath and open my eyes to meet Jeff's, not sure what I'll find there.

He's looking at me with amusement in his eyes, surpressing a smile.

"Jules," he says, crawling across the bed to me, closing most the distance I put between us. "I hate to have to tell you this, but you always call me that."

I make a face, my cheeks still hot. "Are you fucking with me?"

He chuckles as he settles down across from me, and I notice a dimple in his cheek for the first time. The first time tonight, anyway. I get the feeling I've kissed that dimple a hundred times before. I can feel it in my memory, throwing my arms around him, going up on my tiptoes and pressing my lips to his cheek.

The charm it adds to his smile is unfair.

"I'm not fucking with you, I promise," he tells me.

I bite my lip, looking into his eyes, so unsure why I trust him but feeling like I undeniably do.

"How old are you, anyway?" I blurt out, and he chuckles again.

"I'm forty-two," he says, reaching out and placing his hand on the part of one of my legs that isn't covered by the sheet.

With his touch, I feel the electric current between us strengthen, like a switch is flipped, and it seems to wash away any of my worries or cares. I wonder if he knows it, that touching me awakens a connection that seems to override everything else. If that's why he's doing it.

I take a trembling breath. "You have me at such a disadvantage," I say. "It's hard."

"I know," he says. He leans over and kisses my shoulder, once, twice. His eyes meet mine and all I can think is that I've never had someone look at me the way he does, and that it has to mean something.

"It's not always like this, though. You usually remember me. Or you start to. Trust me when I say I don't want to have you at a disadvantage of any kind. I much prefer when you know me."

I feel myself softening toward him again. Those kisses on my shoulder, his hand on my thigh. The things he's saying. It's not his fault I don't remember him the way he clearly remembers me. And even then, it's not like I don't remember anything.

It comes in moments, like when he pulled me against him and we were skin to skin, or when I realized he had that dimple in his cheek that I somehow know I've kissed so many times.

The way it feels when I look into his eyes. The familiarity and the intimacy come in flashes like that.

The way my body responds to him.

The way he knows how to make me respond.

The gravity between us.

I let the sheet fall from my body, watching his face. Seeing the way his eyes widen in surprise and then darken with lust, the color of a forest right before nightfall.

The lights from the city outside play across his beautiful face in ways that alternately make him look like a stranger and look like he's mine.

Everything about him pulls me toward him in powerful waves I can feel on the humid air.

"You do know me," he'd said to me earlier. "Look at me and tell me you don't."

I close the rest of the distance between us on my knees and slide into his lap. He tenses as I settle against him, his breath catching in his chest.

I can feel his heart beat against my breasts as his skin meets mine again. It feels so good, so fucking good. And so fucking right, that I know nothing is going to stop what's about to happen between us.

I slide my hands into his hair and put my lips to his ear. He groans softly, his fingers digging into my back.

"Make me remember, Daddy. Show me."

And he does.

-------------------------------

The night stretches into something beyond what I thought reality could be, almost beyond endurance.

Hours become what feel like years of pleasure and intensity as Jeff shows me exactly who he is and what he knows.

He whispers filth and reverence into my ear while he works his long, thick cock into my wet, needy pussy. When he's finally buried to the hilt, he curses and lets his head fall onto my shoulder.

"God you're so tight," he moans. "Fuck... so tight."

I whimper, shifting a little beneath him, reveling in feeling so full of his cock. His eyes go hazy, flutter closed.

"Fuck," he breathes again.

"Keep going," I whisper.

He fucks me into the bed while he looks into my eyes, making me gasp and moan. I begin to move my hips beneath him, wanton and needy.

Every thrust sends bolts of pleasure into my core that radiate outward throughout my entire body. The electricity between us makes every little move, every kiss, every shift inside me feel so good I can hardly take it.

The way he looks moving above me working my pussy, his jaw tight as he tries to temper himself, to not give into the pleasure too soon... I don't think I've ever seen anything so sexy in my entire life.

All I know is that I want more.

He starts to slowly kiss his way down my body to my pussy, letting his cock slide out of me with a wet pop

"Wait... no..." I breathe, needing him inside me. Needing to feel completely filled.

"Mmm... don't worry," he murmurs. "I'm not done yet." Then he holds onto my hips to still me.

I start to shake when he kisses along my pubic bone, all around my upper thighs. He blows gently on my clit before gently flicking it with his tongue, and my body bucks under his hands.

"Jesus Christ," I breathe, my hands tangled in his hair. "I'm about to pull your hair HARD."

"You can pull my hair, baby, " he murmurs, with a wicked little grin.

He kisses on either side of my clit, sucking on the skin of my outer lips and swirling his tongue closer to the aching nub each time, until he's running it up and down my clit while I shudder and squeeze my thighs around his head.

I gasp and yank a handful of his hair, but he keeps going, his tongue and lips tormenting my clit until I'm so close... then pulling away and spearing his tongue into my pussy while he rubs his wet upper lip against my clit.

The combination of his lip rubbing against my clit, the friction, while his tongue is moving in and out of me has me writhing and almost sobbing for release. I've never had a man eat me like this, and it's a fucking revelation.

When he slips a finger inside me finally and begins fucking me with it, curling it into just the right spot, my entire body begins to shake as I crest the wave that he's been building inside of me.

"That's right baby," he says against my skin, making me shiver. "Let go for me."

I'm pulling his hair, scratching his shoulders and shuddering as the pulsing, clenching pleasure takes over my entire body. He lets up on the pressure just enough to ride out my orgasm with me, making it go on and on, not changing his rhythm.

My pussy pulses against his lips, clenches around his finger. My legs shake and spasm, my body completely out of any sort of control. I whimper, hands fisted in his hair, almost hyperventilating from the overload of sensation.

I can feel the heat of Jeff's eyes as he drinks up every second of my pleasure until I'm spent. Then he gives my pussy another long kiss, moving his hands up my hips, before kissing up my belly and chest, sucking and softly biting my nipples before ending up at my mouth again.

I moan into his mouth when he kisses me, the taste of my pussy on his lips and tongue sending a jolt of pure desire through me.

All I want right now is to do to him exactly what he did to me, to watch him lose himself in the pleasure I make him feel.

I'm still shaking, though, and the way he's kissing me isn't helping. His tongue teases mine, slow and languid. He entwines our fingers and brings me flush against him, sucking on my lower lip and then biting down on it just hard enough to make me whimper.

Jeff pulls away and looks into my eyes. His are fathomless, dark and intense.

"You're mine," he whispers, all levity gone from his voice. His words are heavy with passion, possession and need.

I shudder, letting him take me over as he tears his eyes from mine and starts kissing me again until I'm breathless.

If I'm his, then he's mine. And I'm going to make sure he feels it through every part of his body. Every part of his soul.

I push him down onto the bed and straddle him, then lean down and brush my lips against his. His cock is hard and hot against the slickness between my thighs, and I have to stop myself from sinking back down onto it. I want him back inside me, but all in good time.

I need to ruin him first.

I look him right in the eye the same way he just did to me and give him a wicked little grin.

"Your turn," I say.