Dream Lover is a thrilling time travel erotic romance. This story brings the reader right into the midst of the American Revolution, English Spies, treachery, the sailing ships and their ever so sexy Captain. Dream Lover won the Capa!
DREAM LOVER
By
Jewel Adams
Time Travel Erotic Romance
When a dream becomes reality, Mackenzie Richardson discovers her fantasy lover is no longer an unattainable image, but a very real, very powerful, flesh and blood man. Mackenzie finds no escape from the handsome but obstinate dream that shatters the fabric of time and thrives in Colonial America, the year of our Lord, 1773.
Aaron Masters confronts the bewitching woman that haunts his dreams, to discover a very real and passionate Mackenzie. Be she God's own angel or the Devil's witch, she now belongs to him. Neither the powers of time, nor the perils of man will take away the woman he claims as his wife.
Join Aaron and Mackenzie on a journey of discovery as they confront their love for each other and battle the forces to hold on to the treasure they find. Will they beat the power of time that tries to keep them separated? Or will their love end on the thrust of a pirate's cutlass or the claim of a British spy that Mackenzie is his wife! The excitement and adventure will hold you spellbound to the explosive conclusion of DREAM LOVER
Time Travel Erotic Romance
CHAPTER 1
Dreams Can’t Be Real!
“I-Will-Not-Think-Of-Him!” Mackenzie’s fist punched out each word against the pillows. Blowing up at the hair in front of her eyes, she crawled around the bed tugging at the tangled sheets. “Grown women don’t need fantasy lovers, Mac. Grow up!” Falling back into the pillows, she yanked the satin quilt up to her chin.
Sleep, instant sleep, no thoughts, only dreamless sleep. Tossing one way and then the next, she moaned over effort it took to relax. She heard the tiny gears in the clock turning as another number flipped. “This is useless,” she exclaimed, irritation filled her voice.
Mackenzie reached for the phone, but hesitated before dialing Gloria’s number. “That’s right, Mac, call her and ruin all your progress today. You never should have asked her about the dreams.” After suffering Gloria’s prying questions all afternoon, Mackenzie figured it would take some major convincing to get her friend calmed down. One swift kick sent the covers off the bed. She slipped on the matching satin robe to her nightgown and let the soft material fold about her waist. Each determined step sent the satin swirling up and around her legs.
Jerking open the bedroom door, she headed for the kitchen. Absently rubbing the robe’s sleeves, Mac never realized she held her breath until she flipped on the light above the stove. In a scolding whisper she said, “Tea, cinnamon rose—that should do the trick.” The flame shot up under the kettle before she adjusted the knob and moved knowingly about the kitchen, gathering a cup from the cupboard.
“Stop woman! Stop this endless calling!” The deep, decidedly male voice filled the silence in the apartment, paralyzing her into stunned stillness.
Startled by the kettle’s piercing whistle, Mac watched helplessly as the cup slip from her fingers and shatter in the sink. Spinning around she fumbled with the controls on the front of the stove until she killed the flame. Mac wrapped her shaking hands about her waist and took deep breaths, forcing herself to concentrate on the hissing stream of vapor.
“Let me go woman! Stop your witching ways. End this spell you hold me in!” Malice governed the familiar voice that had no right to sound so commanding, so alive.
“No-o-o...” The denial tore through her clenched teeth. She refused to turn toward the low, furious voice. “I won’t see you!” Covering her eyes with her sweaty palms, she felt desperate, “This isn’t happening. You aren’t real! Go away!”
“Release me and I will gladly leave you!”
The threat in the man’s seething response nearly made her cry out. This can’t be real, he was only a dream. “I’m not dreaming now, am I?” She brought her hands away from her eyes and gripped the counter for support. Mac’s frantic whispers swirled through the rising steam, “He’s not here...this isn’t real. I’m not even in bed, so I can’t be sleeping!” To prove her own feeble belief, Mackenzie gingerly reached out to touch the kettle, quickly pulling her fingers back from the heat. “There, see, I am not sleeping. You can’t feel pain when you sleep.” Slowly releasing her breath she said, “He’s not real, Mac.”
“Mac? Tell him to show himself, for I am as real as you are witch. I will be glad to prove it to Mac if he be your protector! Turn around and face me, if you dare!”
Aaron’s annoyance and anger rose in equal degrees as he asked himself again, what manner of woman was this? She was here, the one ruling his mind every waking moment...and the nights; never did he escape her alluring shadow. God, what did I do to deserve this punishment? Maybe it was not God’s work, for surely she was some kind of witch. He never believed in witches and hexes, but nothing else made sense for the strange happenings in his life.
Aaron failed to find any sign of her protector and kept his eyes fixed on the vision before him, knowing he would use physical force to stop her should she try to escape his presence. He wished she would turn to face him, allow him to confirm the image embedded in his mind. His haunting, blue-eyed enchantress could only be the beauty before him. He knew every delicate, enticing curve of that womanly body silhouetted against the soft, hugging gown where those golden curls ended. Soft as spun honey, the golden wisps floated on an invisible breeze, kissing her lovely... “Enticing sorceress!”
Clenching his hands until the knuckles turned white, he resisted the temptation to reach out and touch her. Aaron wanted, beyond reason, to hold the celestial vision that came to him so lovingly, seeking his warmth. Her enchanting curves brandished promises of passion born of innocence. He would wake, his body soaked with sweat, his cock steeled with his need to possess her. Every night the callings grew stronger, more ardent, filling his hours with pure, sweet torture; always she remained elusive, just beyond his grasp. So aggressive was her magic she began to come to him at all hours, haunting the daylight, casting her shadow about him until he thought he would go insane; demented, because he alone could see her haunting image. Aaron grew obsessed with the burning desire to experience and possess the libertine vision, regardless of the consequence. An act he suspected he would burn in hell over, for only a witch could be doing this to him.
Aaron Masters was not a man to be trifled with. He fought her insistent pleas to come to her and the battle grew fierce. The internal battle of wills raged inside him. Tonight he vowed to destroy the hold she could wield over him. Dropping his barriers, he listened to her soft beguiling pleas, letting them grow stronger and stronger, until their intensity hauled him through the darkness.
She stood with him now, no longer an unreachable illusion, but a woman quivering from the same force that brought them together. As easy as reaching out and capturing her appeared, Aaron refused to let her control him. He wanted answers from her, but seeing her, being so close, almost proved to be more temptation than he could withstand.
“Woman, I said turn and face me. I have answered your summons. Now you will answer mine.”
The air surrounding Mackenzie virtually danced with electricity. Taking a deep breath she reassured herself that this was only a dream…that is all this could be, a dream; her fantasy was now a nightmare. By facing her imaginary man he would vanish, he must. As she turned, Mac braced herself, hoping that the vision she conjured up would be there, terrified of what might be in its place.
Sucking in her breath, she faced the image.
“Oh stars…” he was everything she fantasized and her eyes feasted on her creation, all imaginary six-foot plus of it. Tempting waves of thick black hair were pulled back to the nape of his neck, tied there by a silk bow. Had she created a new fashion statement with her vision? The modest ponytail, if loose would join the locks about his strong face, framing it quite handsomely.
Captured and stunned by what her imagination assembled, her fear shimmered away, dissolving into the darkness surrounding them. She took her first step toward him, her vision. Mac decided she would enjoy this night, knowing that like her dreams he would fade in the morning light.
Smiling into his dark, formidable eyes she whispered, “This is my dream, I would like it down.” Reaching up, she loosened the bow, letting it slip from the rich thickness. Fascinated with her creation, she fanned the satin waves about his firm jaw and sculptured neck until the locks rested on his broad shoulders.
Mac’s eyes glowed over the new effect. “There, not as harsh.” Her gaze drank him in. “Very nice, gentler...”
She stepped in front of him to take in every compelling feature of his proud face, reinforcing the memory of her creation. “So handsome...manly. Yes, very much a man.” He was only an apparition and the unexpected freedom she felt surged through her, pushing forward her desire to experience more of him. “It’s amazing.”
Aaron’s dark, hostile gaze snapped with hostility as it followed the strange actions of the resplendent beauty. She stood so close to him that he could smell her sexual sweetness. Allowing himself, Aaron inhaled, filling his senses with her lusty essence until he felt dizzy from the imprisoning enchantment. His every muscle cried out to take her, crush her seductive spice of feminine warmth to his fierce cock and taste the luscious temptation lingering so near. Her actions beguiled and fascinated him. He would let her take her liberties a little further and then he would exert his own.
Mac stared into his eyes, eyes so black they could reflect the stars, held her, making her breath catch in a whisper. “For a dream, you certainly are intense.”
She raised her hand to his face, wanting to soften the hardness glaring down at her. The contrast between their colorings fascinated Mac. His skin was tan and aggressive against her ivory softness. In a whisper touch she stroked his cheek; she tipped her head to the side, surprised when her hand didn’t go through the image. “Are dreams this solid?” she wondered aloud.
Her fingers touched the smooth, strong plane of his brow before slowly lowering her exploration. She caressed every firm, vital inch of his face, as if by touching, the dream would stay forever. She couldn’t resist the temptation to trace the full lines of his lips. The bottom lip was fuller and the knowledge sent thrilling promises through her sensitive fingertips. The shocking sensations made her pull away. Stepping back a little, she took in the full height and the width of his chest and shoulders. “So much bigger than my dream, I like it.”
Afraid that she would destroy the image, she held back from releasing the thin cord holding the deep vee of his billowy shirt together. Mac could see the rich exotic tan beneath the material. Spellbound, her heated gaze swept over his chest to the firm lines of his hips, down the powerful stance of muscled legs covered by tight fitting, black pants. The breath caught in her throat as she took in the huge bulge at the juncture of his legs. Mac felt naughty and daring over what she wanted to do. He was beautiful, breathtaking, everything she imagined and more. She stopped to study the soft, black leather boots that came up to hug his calves before flowing into wide cuffs at the knees. “Hmm, they are so sexy.”
The temptation proved too powerful and she let it pull her to him. Her palms went flat against his chest and began their slow, stimulating exploration. Beneath the fine linen she felt the harden nubs of his nibbles. Mac did the unthinkable and lowered her lips to one; her teeth teased the small rock solid nub. She felt the powerful muscles against her lips flex and grow tight, and the sensation shimmered through her, causing her own vagina to contract in sensual awareness releasing a wave of warm wet sexual heat. The excitement drove her on as her hands roamed the firm wall of his chest and she became unmerciful and teased his sensitive nipples through the thin material. The taste of salt became an aphrodisiac that lingered on her tongue as she slowly licked the taunt material over his breast…and Mac wanted more.
For a sane second she wondered if he felt her touch and what he might do if he could respond, but then she wouldn’t be doing this if he were real. “Such a wonderful, hot dream.”
The sexual electricity caused by her touch made her suck in her breath, with it came his scent, untamed and exotic. The dream was never this vital, this intense. In bold abandon Mac continued her discovery. Freedom ruled, she gloried in the feel of him, the stone-hard length…her eyes flew up to his in shock over her own audacity and yet, her fingers remained on him and slowly slide over the shaft of his penis.
“My goodness,” her lips parted as she ran her tongue over them, “hmm, I wonder if you’d taste like this, all salty and wild.” She willfully stroked the power in her grasp, the enlarging size of his cock made her excited and nervous all in the same instant. “I certainly know how to create a dream worth savoring.”
Mac felt her own body responding to the thrill of holding such a man. His size went beyond the dream, her eyes closed over the very real throbs of life coming from his penis. “I’ve never…I could…to a dream…what I want to do is shameless.”
She could feel his body tense as her hands stopped the pleasuring strokes. Before she thought any further Mac untied the leather string on the pants and pulled it from the holes, allowing what she wanted to be free.
His cock leaped out as if trying to find her, Mac didn’t look away or shrink back, but settled on her knees in front of him. Surprising even herself as she smiled over her audacity and with infinite care she took hold of the wild cock as if to gentle it with her touch…
Aaron reeled from the true touch of her hands on him. The barrier of clothes tortured him beyond thought, but Aaron feared any interference on his part would break the spell. And right now Aaron went beyond caring about mystical repercussions, he wanted all the vixen would give to him…damn them both!
But when her tongue slid in child-like wonderment over his cockhead Aaron nearly lost his resolve. He wanted to bury himself inside her honeyed spice, for she was sweet beyond any woman he ever fucked. And when she licked the love drop to taste him, his groan of delight joined her own moan of satisfaction. Those lips closing about him felt like angel feathers, but wait…ach, the lords would blush, for no angel would suck his cock with such vigorous appeal!
He should end this erotic dalliance, but no man was that strong. Aaron gave himself over to the woman and her pleasing ways, for he’d not had a woman perform such an act on him. He gave pleasure such as this to women, but none returned his favor and the truth of what he’d been denied made his hands grip her head, bury his fingers in that lush mass of golden curls to hold her just, stay her course to its finality!
Mac felt his hands gentle as the last spasm of pleasure escaped from his cock. With little thought she rained small loving kisses over and around him as if wanting to reawake the beast for another round. But the gentle massage he gave to her shoulders said it was finished and yet Mac could feel the life still pulsing beneath her lips, it would be so easy to rule this man. She’d never experienced such power, the knowledge was thrilling.
She wanted the dream to stay just a little longer and let herself rest against him, feel him. How strange to feel the course roughness of his pubic hair, even sated his cock was still large. The image of a large cat laying in wait for its next attack crossed her mind and with it came a ounce of regret that he too would go in hiding, become the dream once again. Mac wondered if she could ever capture this again, be with him once more.
Time could be an enemy, for Mac knew he needed to go. She wanted one last look. In an almost fevered state, her heated gaze raced over him, wanting to remember every masculine nuance standing before her, thankful for the unusual clarity of this dream, knowing she would never forget him. He would vanish, maybe forever.
Drawn by desire Mackenzie moved closer until her breast pressed in wanton abandon against him. “Just one kiss...please?” she whispered, hoping it possible. Standing on tiptoes, Mackenzie gave into her obsession over his arresting lips. Barely touching the lips before her, she breathed deeply, taking in the essence surrounding him; a wild, heady aroma, filled with open sky and salt tainted ocean. The dark liquid pools of his eyes reflected her image, making her wish she could lose herself in their ardent depths, forever. She closed her own and moved closer, touching, seeking the dream… finding the man.
“I wish you were real.” All her heart’s longings came out in feathery softness against the impassioned lips now capturing her own. Dream, so be it. Mac melted against the surrounding heat. Feeling the pressure demanding her attention, she gave into the call as old as time. The pleasures flowing through her were so real, so powerful, they became her existence and she demanded more.
Unable to refuse her, nearly crazy with wanting her, Aaron folded the enchantress within the circle of his arms. Her touch was like the fires of hell, all sweet promises of ecstasy and he was already iron hard. There was no gentle taking as he brought her body against his own. Capturing her willing lips, he took her, deepening the kiss her haunting pleas begged him to master. His hands encircled her small waist, roaming freely over the delicately curved hips and firm buttocks. He wanted more and without thought Aaron molded her honey warmed spice over his inflamed cock.
Aaron tried to fight the ravenous yearning rekindling inside him, needing more to treasure the feel of her and experience the desire she so willingly gave over to him. He wanted all of her. Yet the moist touch of her spice against his cock became the master. Her excitement mounted and he let her discover the feel of his cock against her clit, so fluid and hot as she rolled over him, taking on what her hands started.
He lifted her off the floor and gloried in victory when her legs wrapped about his hips. They were powerful allowing him the freedom to discover his enchantress. Aaron dismissed the gown, then tore his shirt off. “Ah, I want to feel you my lovely.”
Aaron went to his knees wanting more freedom to touch her beautiful body. Breast soft as kittens filled his palm and when his lips took possession of her nipples she cried out in ecstasy over his tongue’s tormenting play. He released his hold as she settled into his lap, he captured her head between his ample hands.
“You are a beautiful woman.”
He saw her lips part in a smile and it was all he needed to take her. As delicious as he expected Aaron devoured her mouth, then went back to the lush areolas, lavishing them into excited arousal so he could roll his palm over them and relish her rewarding torture. How she arched to his touch, her body was like a fine sculpture and Aaron loved touching the porcelain beauty.
Her freedom in touching him, working him with those small delicate hands and her lips, such pleasure should be cherished. When an enchanting moan escaped her exquisite lips, Aaron feared he would be branded by the blaze she ignited. Pressing her closer, he molded her closer to his cockhead, confirming the power she held over him. When she moved enticingly over him, his moan blended with the music of her bewitching song. Holding her hips he laid back and kept her moist spice covering his cock. She moved on her own, back and forth in slow wondrous strokes. Aaron watched her has his fingers found her sexual core. She pressed into his touch her head fell back silently giving him the freedom to take her. In gentle intent he brought her to the threshold of pleasure, “do you want it?”
“Yes, damn you!”
“Tch, such a temper…here my lovely, here is a taste of what you called me to give to you.”
Aaron released his hold on himself and with expert ease he brought the beauty to a climax that made her cry out! The flood of her pleasure washed over his throbbing cock and he knew she was ready for him.
With both hands on her hips Aaron raised her just enough to position his cockhead to her maidenhead and its throbbing life. With one hand he again played over the center of her arousal, she instantly fire with the need he created and began a slow rhythm against his head just as Aaron moved up to press his advantage. In one instant of equal assault she slid over his cock as he lunged into her.
Her cry was sharp and short but it didn’t go unheard and Aaron froze over the truth he didn’t believe. “You can’t be!”
But be there damage it was forgotten as she started a stronger more forceful motion and Aaron gave up the thought of backing away and joined her dives onto his cock with his own lunge to sate the fire inside her.
This was no longer a game and Aaron took control, rolling with her he moved her under him and he plunged to the depth of her core. She took hold of his buttocks trying to hold him against her and he knew she wanted the pleasure he could give her by pressing into her passion nub. With the expertise learned in many countries, Aaron showed the enchantress how to feel and she reached for him, wanting every volatile sensation he could give her. The sexual fever took hold of Aaron and his thrusts were as violent as those of the witch beneath him. He felt her tighten around his cock and he went deeper and harder until she reach an explosive climax and Aaron allow his own to flow into her, filling her with the steam of his seed until they were both spent and quivering in exhausted enchantment.
All rational thought fled, burning was worth the ecstasy he discovered in his arms. He would never let her go, not now, even if it meant purgatory for all eternity. Aaron would not be denied! Her provocative cries barely penetrated the thunder of passion swirling inside him.
“Oh, God! Don’t let him vanish. He’s my dream. I want to keep him. Please? Forever!”
Lifting her in his arms, Aaron gathered her unresisting body to him. Instinct drove him back toward the barren darkness. “You are mine, vixen! I will never give you back to whatever master you claim. God or devil, they will neither claim you. You are mine...witch!”
Through the burning flames capturing her senses Mackenzie’s mind heard the hostile vow. With it came a shuddering feeling that reached beyond the passion her dream pulled her into. She felt the man! The hot vital strength of his possession, one she created with her willful advances. His arms were strong and held her in an unbreakable grip against his rock solid chest. Reality came rushing in, bringing a flood of panic.
“Dreams aren’t real...not solid.” Groaning, she knew they didn’t carry the flames of overwhelming passion or have the sexual power she discovered.
“I am no dream, madam, and neither are you.”
“No!” she moaned. Her cry tore through the haze swallowing her, ripping deep against the very real danger rising to seize her. Fear brought with it reality and he was all too real!
Striking out in earnest against his steel hold, she battled. Mackenzie confronted the fear for the truth that she failed to see. No dream could be holding her like this, touch her the way he did, kiss... “I didn’t, couldn’t have.” Her groan of denial failed to erase passion’s rampant fire.
“Let me go!” Her gaze flew up to meet his scorching glare. “You must go! You’re not real...a dream! This can’t be happening!” Her voice was shaking, screaming out with the sudden urgency filling her senses.
“I assure you, I am no dream. The cock you held is alive and still on fire. Nothing will smother the flames you wrought, woman, nothing but burying myself to the core of your existence!”
Mackenzie’s eyes grew large under the harsh words. The truth was there, beneath her hands. “Please...I made a mistake, I’m sorry. Put me down! You have to!”
“Why? Afraid of your master?”
“Master?”
“Devil or God, woman, he cannot help you now. I have you and you are most certainly as real as I. Damned as I may be, I am determined to keep you!”
His eyes grew shadowy in their fevered conviction, stilling her panicky cries, ending her frantic movements. True fear filled her over the cold sneer now replacing remembered warmth, causing a frightened moan to escape unchecked from her trembling lips.
“I have what I want, woman.”
Words failed her as his meaning sank to the depth of her panic, causing her to stare wide-eyed in shaking denial.
Turning with her locked in his arms, his challenging laughter struck out against the devouring blackness. Sinking into the void, Mackenzie lost herself in the abyss, clinging to him as they fell, her terrified scream filling the darkness.
* * * *
The pounding in Aaron’s temples broke through the nightmare, making him hold his head to fight the assaulting pressure. Rolling to his side he forced his legs out and over the mattress as he strained to sit up.
“Ach, stop this infernal ringing!” Shaking his head to clear it, Aaron gripped the bed board to keep from falling back.
“The dream again! Damn that woman.” Aaron concentrated for it seemed important. “If I had drunk the devil’s own rum I would feel better than this.”
Again the dream that plagued him came rushing back. This time her image was clearer, more intense in its beauty, no longer just the illusion he lived with these last weeks.
Night blackened the portal, another sleepless night.
Cursing the woman again wouldn’t change the dream, one that felt all too real. He swore he could smell her flowery sweetness, still feel the heady warmth of her body, the fold of her moist spice covering his cock. And her voice, such heavenly music, never had it been so clear. Surely, he was bewitched or at sea too long. Yes, that must be it. He longed to be home in Salem and finished with the voyage. Sighing with the relief this brought the tight hold on his lips eased.
The last shipment proved well worth the risk; the hold bulged with goods for the Boston merchants. Even after those infuriating taxes to the crown were paid, they would still have a good take from the load. Todd would soon follow in the Seafarer with the balance of the shipments.
Aaron swelled with pride. During the last four years, he built his shipping line up to eight well-rigged merchants. Making runs from England, the West Indies, to the Gold Coast of Africa, his ships were manned with reliable, hand-picked men, under trustworthy captains. Even those damn pirates of Jacques Dubois stayed clear of his vessels. Aaron made sure his reputation would not be ignored. Tracking down the last raiders, and recovering his goods, paid off. Now Dubois thought twice about boarding his ships. Aaron invested too much of his life to have it line thieves’ pockets.
For the last three years, he barely set foot on land long enough to get the feel of it. Now, three days out of Boston and unloading, then home to Salem and his new house. He planned to stay in port this next year and devote his time to running the business from his office. Plans for his next expansion would keep him busy.
Andrew should be waiting with the new trade contracts from Africa. Aaron looked forward to seeing his friend. He still marveled over the fates bringing them together five years ago. Andrew’s contacts in Africa were proving invaluable. Once the trade courses were set and the two new ships rigged out, they would sail. Thinking on it, Aaron remained adamant about never transporting slaves. Whether Andrew realized it or not, he played no part in the decision. Aaron held no stomach for it and he refused to have his ships tainted by its revulsion. They could keep that wealth; there was enough honest trade to satisfy his needs. Yes, everything was finally coming together.
“Everything except these infernal dreams!”
The pressure must have brought them on. He’d been pushing himself beyond human endurance. Why now? Aaron worked hard for this day. Nothing would stop him from reaching his goal.
His head still pounded with the fresh images of the dream. She was the most exquisite creature even if she be a witch. Skin so soft it felt like polished ivory, lovely full breasts that filled his palm, yearning for his touch, and her response to him was something new and fresh. Women did not give of themselves like that to a man.
“What am I thinking? Damn witch get out of my head!” Loud, his angry words filled the cabin. “I am talking as if the woman were real...if only she could be.” Feeling like he did now, he wondered if he would not choke her elegant neck, instead of devouring it with the hunger to which she drove him.
Putting his head in his hands, he fell back into the mattress, wanting the peace of sleep without dreams. The small moan meeting him the instant his head connected with the soft, yet firm mound jettisoned his body off the bed. Staggering hard into the map table, he sent the charts flying across the room. “By all the saints!”
Shocked, worried eyes struggled to see what he shuddered to believe possible in the darkened cabin.
“Damn!” Clumsily searching for a flint, he finally managed to light the wick. The lantern cast a bright glow over the shadow washed cabin. Raising the lamp, Aaron took a cautious step toward the bed, holding the lantern still higher as the womanly form took shape. Nearly losing his grip on the light, it took both hands to hold it steady when she came into view.
“How?” The question met silence, drawing him closer to the vision. “The dream...what happened?” Aaron fought the recall, closing his eyes against the answers.
She stood in a bright room, a cup slipped from her fingers falling into a silvery hole and breaking. Nothing else remained clear...only her.
Yes, he remembered now. He’d been furious with her. All day she haunted him, constantly calling for him. The sadness coming from her clawed at him until he could stand it no longer. Retiring to his cabin early to wait for her calls, Aaron knew they would soon return. When she reached out this time, he opened himself to her, letting her pull him through that thick blanket of darkness. No longer was she just an image, fading when he reached out. She stood there to be seen, to smell. He swallowed hard...to touch.
She seemed as shocked as he was over his presence. What did she say? “Dream.” Yes, she kept repeating that he was not real, but only a dream.
Looking at her, she appeared real enough. Experimentally, Aaron reached out, jerking his hand away when it touched the giving curve. Slowly his hand went back, caressing the soft line of her hip, moving down the naked sheen of her nicely shaped legs.
A moan came from her. Pulling back, he watched as she turned onto her back. Wild, corn silk curls splayed out over the pillows, casting an unearthly light about her.
Aaron caught his breath over the beauty stretched out before him. He let his gaze wander over her, stopping at her exposed breast. He swallowed his moan over the memory, their taste and the thrill he created in her. The desire to touch her propelled through him, hardening his cock with its force. It was pure madness to want a dream with such longing, but she hardly qualified as an illusion any longer. No, she was laying in his bed, in his cabin, on board his ship, the Wanderer...his.
Somehow, he brought her back with him. He took a dream and made it real. He could not deny the truth no matter what logic he exercised. They sailed over three months ago.
Slowly, the night’s darkness faded into dawn and Aaron found himself in the same position, still watching her sleeping form. His head pounded and the reason only intensified. Through the escaping night, Aaron realized many things. One, this woman was not going to vanish. All his wishing, denying and cursing against her existence failed to send her back. Smiling to himself, he knew he felt almost pleased over the discovery. He wanted her in his dreams, in that room, and refused to let her go when she begged him to do so. Now, be it anger or desire, it mattered little, now she belonged to him. At first angry, he decided her witching or some trick made him take her like that. Honesty made him admit his own desire to possess her forced his action against her, then he stole her from the power that brought them together. By his rash act, he wondered if he declared war on whatever god or devil she belonged to. Could he expect to win against such a force, against…Mac?
Gazing on her again, Aaron inwardly cringed. That moment, that one instant in time when she cried out…he remembered. Aaron cursed her for not telling him she was a virgin and himself for his lack of control. “I would do it again.”
If he were her master, giving her up without a fight would never be an option. The admission steeled his determination concerning her.
Aaron would give her the chance to go back from whence she came. If she could leave, no doubt she would never haunt him again. He wondered if she possessed any real measure of power. He alone brought her here; maybe he held the power? It mattered not, he would soon discover the answer.
Remembering how fervently she fought when she thought him a dream, Aaron expected her battle over discovering a very real man would not be pretty. No, she would probably turn into a very real and furious cockatrice.
That posed the largest problem. How in the world could he explain her presence on board his ship? Answers continued to escape him, every excuse died by his own questions, never would they withstand those of his men. Her appearance earlier in the voyage could have been explained by a very believable stowaway story and solved everything. Now, there was only one thing to do and Aaron did not like the answer.
The stronger light moving into the cabin told him he must act. The consequences over her discovery were too great to bear thinking about.
Heavy movements filled with regret took Aaron about the cabin locating the items he needed. Pulling at the curtain cord, Aaron yanked it off its hold. Snapping it between his large hands, he tested its strength. Satisfied, he pulled down its mate. Going to the wardrobe, he retrieved a scarf, selecting silk over a rougher material.
He could not put it off any longer. Mister Baker would soon be seeking him out if he failed to appear on deck. The man’s growing concern over his captain’s actions of late would drive him to the cabin. Smiling sadly, Aaron wondered what Baker would do if he really knew the peculiarities of his captain’s condition.
As gently as possible Aaron wrapped the first cord about her ankles, taking the length up to her knees, he secured it tightly, knowing all her movements would be restricted by the rope’s hold. Taking her wrist Aaron moved first one, than easing her on her side he secured the other to the first, bringing the rope end down to her ankles. Only a small moan came from her during his binding. He hoped, knowing how badly he felt upon waking, that she was just suffering from the effects of the journey through that black void he now remembered. Touching her delicate wrists and ankles, Aaron worried over how frail they appeared. He would need to check the ropes continually to prevent any harm to her.
He hated tying her like this, knowing how frightened she would soon become. Only the gag remained. It pained him beyond thought to do this terrible thing to her, but remembering the fight in her, he could not chance her discovery. Lowering himself over her, Aaron hesitated, “Ah my beauty, you will hate me for this, but I will make it up to you, I promise. Just three days, bear it for three days.” Sealing his words with a light kiss, Aaron placed the gag to her silent mouth. Easing her tied body against the inside wall of the bunk, he covered her with the quilts.
At the door, he turned to check on his handy work. From where he stood, she could not be seen and no one would pass this threshold. Thankfully, they were sailing the Wanderer. His cabin was in the stern, away from all the other quarters. The passenger cabins were empty and only he came to this section. To be sure, Aaron locked his cabin, something he never had call to do before this day. Neither had he ever tied up a defenseless woman, but her discovery posed too great a danger.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he would make quick with his rounds this morn. Remembering her softness and the cord’s roughness there was little time before she did injury to herself.
Dreams Can’t Be Real!
“I-Will-Not-Think-Of-Him!” Mackenzie’s fist punched out each word against the pillows. Blowing up at the hair in front of her eyes, she crawled around the bed tugging at the tangled sheets. “Grown women don’t need fantasy lovers, Mac. Grow up!” Falling back into the pillows, she yanked the satin quilt up to her chin.
Sleep, instant sleep, no thoughts, only dreamless sleep. Tossing one way and then the next, she moaned over effort it took to relax. She heard the tiny gears in the clock turning as another number flipped. “This is useless,” she exclaimed, irritation filled her voice.
Mackenzie reached for the phone, but hesitated before dialing Gloria’s number. “That’s right, Mac, call her and ruin all your progress today. You never should have asked her about the dreams.” After suffering Gloria’s prying questions all afternoon, Mackenzie figured it would take some major convincing to get her friend calmed down. One swift kick sent the covers off the bed. She slipped on the matching satin robe to her nightgown and let the soft material fold about her waist. Each determined step sent the satin swirling up and around her legs.
Jerking open the bedroom door, she headed for the kitchen. Absently rubbing the robe’s sleeves, Mac never realized she held her breath until she flipped on the light above the stove. In a scolding whisper she said, “Tea, cinnamon rose—that should do the trick.” The flame shot up under the kettle before she adjusted the knob and moved knowingly about the kitchen, gathering a cup from the cupboard.
“Stop woman! Stop this endless calling!” The deep, decidedly male voice filled the silence in the apartment, paralyzing her into stunned stillness.
Startled by the kettle’s piercing whistle, Mac watched helplessly as the cup slip from her fingers and shatter in the sink. Spinning around she fumbled with the controls on the front of the stove until she killed the flame. Mac wrapped her shaking hands about her waist and took deep breaths, forcing herself to concentrate on the hissing stream of vapor.
“Let me go woman! Stop your witching ways. End this spell you hold me in!” Malice governed the familiar voice that had no right to sound so commanding, so alive.
“No-o-o...” The denial tore through her clenched teeth. She refused to turn toward the low, furious voice. “I won’t see you!” Covering her eyes with her sweaty palms, she felt desperate, “This isn’t happening. You aren’t real! Go away!”
“Release me and I will gladly leave you!”
The threat in the man’s seething response nearly made her cry out. This can’t be real, he was only a dream. “I’m not dreaming now, am I?” She brought her hands away from her eyes and gripped the counter for support. Mac’s frantic whispers swirled through the rising steam, “He’s not here...this isn’t real. I’m not even in bed, so I can’t be sleeping!” To prove her own feeble belief, Mackenzie gingerly reached out to touch the kettle, quickly pulling her fingers back from the heat. “There, see, I am not sleeping. You can’t feel pain when you sleep.” Slowly releasing her breath she said, “He’s not real, Mac.”
“Mac? Tell him to show himself, for I am as real as you are witch. I will be glad to prove it to Mac if he be your protector! Turn around and face me, if you dare!”
Aaron’s annoyance and anger rose in equal degrees as he asked himself again, what manner of woman was this? She was here, the one ruling his mind every waking moment...and the nights; never did he escape her alluring shadow. God, what did I do to deserve this punishment? Maybe it was not God’s work, for surely she was some kind of witch. He never believed in witches and hexes, but nothing else made sense for the strange happenings in his life.
Aaron failed to find any sign of her protector and kept his eyes fixed on the vision before him, knowing he would use physical force to stop her should she try to escape his presence. He wished she would turn to face him, allow him to confirm the image embedded in his mind. His haunting, blue-eyed enchantress could only be the beauty before him. He knew every delicate, enticing curve of that womanly body silhouetted against the soft, hugging gown where those golden curls ended. Soft as spun honey, the golden wisps floated on an invisible breeze, kissing her lovely... “Enticing sorceress!”
Clenching his hands until the knuckles turned white, he resisted the temptation to reach out and touch her. Aaron wanted, beyond reason, to hold the celestial vision that came to him so lovingly, seeking his warmth. Her enchanting curves brandished promises of passion born of innocence. He would wake, his body soaked with sweat, his cock steeled with his need to possess her. Every night the callings grew stronger, more ardent, filling his hours with pure, sweet torture; always she remained elusive, just beyond his grasp. So aggressive was her magic she began to come to him at all hours, haunting the daylight, casting her shadow about him until he thought he would go insane; demented, because he alone could see her haunting image. Aaron grew obsessed with the burning desire to experience and possess the libertine vision, regardless of the consequence. An act he suspected he would burn in hell over, for only a witch could be doing this to him.
Aaron Masters was not a man to be trifled with. He fought her insistent pleas to come to her and the battle grew fierce. The internal battle of wills raged inside him. Tonight he vowed to destroy the hold she could wield over him. Dropping his barriers, he listened to her soft beguiling pleas, letting them grow stronger and stronger, until their intensity hauled him through the darkness.
She stood with him now, no longer an unreachable illusion, but a woman quivering from the same force that brought them together. As easy as reaching out and capturing her appeared, Aaron refused to let her control him. He wanted answers from her, but seeing her, being so close, almost proved to be more temptation than he could withstand.
“Woman, I said turn and face me. I have answered your summons. Now you will answer mine.”
The air surrounding Mackenzie virtually danced with electricity. Taking a deep breath she reassured herself that this was only a dream…that is all this could be, a dream; her fantasy was now a nightmare. By facing her imaginary man he would vanish, he must. As she turned, Mac braced herself, hoping that the vision she conjured up would be there, terrified of what might be in its place.
Sucking in her breath, she faced the image.
“Oh stars…” he was everything she fantasized and her eyes feasted on her creation, all imaginary six-foot plus of it. Tempting waves of thick black hair were pulled back to the nape of his neck, tied there by a silk bow. Had she created a new fashion statement with her vision? The modest ponytail, if loose would join the locks about his strong face, framing it quite handsomely.
Captured and stunned by what her imagination assembled, her fear shimmered away, dissolving into the darkness surrounding them. She took her first step toward him, her vision. Mac decided she would enjoy this night, knowing that like her dreams he would fade in the morning light.
Smiling into his dark, formidable eyes she whispered, “This is my dream, I would like it down.” Reaching up, she loosened the bow, letting it slip from the rich thickness. Fascinated with her creation, she fanned the satin waves about his firm jaw and sculptured neck until the locks rested on his broad shoulders.
Mac’s eyes glowed over the new effect. “There, not as harsh.” Her gaze drank him in. “Very nice, gentler...”
She stepped in front of him to take in every compelling feature of his proud face, reinforcing the memory of her creation. “So handsome...manly. Yes, very much a man.” He was only an apparition and the unexpected freedom she felt surged through her, pushing forward her desire to experience more of him. “It’s amazing.”
Aaron’s dark, hostile gaze snapped with hostility as it followed the strange actions of the resplendent beauty. She stood so close to him that he could smell her sexual sweetness. Allowing himself, Aaron inhaled, filling his senses with her lusty essence until he felt dizzy from the imprisoning enchantment. His every muscle cried out to take her, crush her seductive spice of feminine warmth to his fierce cock and taste the luscious temptation lingering so near. Her actions beguiled and fascinated him. He would let her take her liberties a little further and then he would exert his own.
Mac stared into his eyes, eyes so black they could reflect the stars, held her, making her breath catch in a whisper. “For a dream, you certainly are intense.”
She raised her hand to his face, wanting to soften the hardness glaring down at her. The contrast between their colorings fascinated Mac. His skin was tan and aggressive against her ivory softness. In a whisper touch she stroked his cheek; she tipped her head to the side, surprised when her hand didn’t go through the image. “Are dreams this solid?” she wondered aloud.
Her fingers touched the smooth, strong plane of his brow before slowly lowering her exploration. She caressed every firm, vital inch of his face, as if by touching, the dream would stay forever. She couldn’t resist the temptation to trace the full lines of his lips. The bottom lip was fuller and the knowledge sent thrilling promises through her sensitive fingertips. The shocking sensations made her pull away. Stepping back a little, she took in the full height and the width of his chest and shoulders. “So much bigger than my dream, I like it.”
Afraid that she would destroy the image, she held back from releasing the thin cord holding the deep vee of his billowy shirt together. Mac could see the rich exotic tan beneath the material. Spellbound, her heated gaze swept over his chest to the firm lines of his hips, down the powerful stance of muscled legs covered by tight fitting, black pants. The breath caught in her throat as she took in the huge bulge at the juncture of his legs. Mac felt naughty and daring over what she wanted to do. He was beautiful, breathtaking, everything she imagined and more. She stopped to study the soft, black leather boots that came up to hug his calves before flowing into wide cuffs at the knees. “Hmm, they are so sexy.”
The temptation proved too powerful and she let it pull her to him. Her palms went flat against his chest and began their slow, stimulating exploration. Beneath the fine linen she felt the harden nubs of his nibbles. Mac did the unthinkable and lowered her lips to one; her teeth teased the small rock solid nub. She felt the powerful muscles against her lips flex and grow tight, and the sensation shimmered through her, causing her own vagina to contract in sensual awareness releasing a wave of warm wet sexual heat. The excitement drove her on as her hands roamed the firm wall of his chest and she became unmerciful and teased his sensitive nipples through the thin material. The taste of salt became an aphrodisiac that lingered on her tongue as she slowly licked the taunt material over his breast…and Mac wanted more.
For a sane second she wondered if he felt her touch and what he might do if he could respond, but then she wouldn’t be doing this if he were real. “Such a wonderful, hot dream.”
The sexual electricity caused by her touch made her suck in her breath, with it came his scent, untamed and exotic. The dream was never this vital, this intense. In bold abandon Mac continued her discovery. Freedom ruled, she gloried in the feel of him, the stone-hard length…her eyes flew up to his in shock over her own audacity and yet, her fingers remained on him and slowly slide over the shaft of his penis.
“My goodness,” her lips parted as she ran her tongue over them, “hmm, I wonder if you’d taste like this, all salty and wild.” She willfully stroked the power in her grasp, the enlarging size of his cock made her excited and nervous all in the same instant. “I certainly know how to create a dream worth savoring.”
Mac felt her own body responding to the thrill of holding such a man. His size went beyond the dream, her eyes closed over the very real throbs of life coming from his penis. “I’ve never…I could…to a dream…what I want to do is shameless.”
She could feel his body tense as her hands stopped the pleasuring strokes. Before she thought any further Mac untied the leather string on the pants and pulled it from the holes, allowing what she wanted to be free.
His cock leaped out as if trying to find her, Mac didn’t look away or shrink back, but settled on her knees in front of him. Surprising even herself as she smiled over her audacity and with infinite care she took hold of the wild cock as if to gentle it with her touch…
Aaron reeled from the true touch of her hands on him. The barrier of clothes tortured him beyond thought, but Aaron feared any interference on his part would break the spell. And right now Aaron went beyond caring about mystical repercussions, he wanted all the vixen would give to him…damn them both!
But when her tongue slid in child-like wonderment over his cockhead Aaron nearly lost his resolve. He wanted to bury himself inside her honeyed spice, for she was sweet beyond any woman he ever fucked. And when she licked the love drop to taste him, his groan of delight joined her own moan of satisfaction. Those lips closing about him felt like angel feathers, but wait…ach, the lords would blush, for no angel would suck his cock with such vigorous appeal!
He should end this erotic dalliance, but no man was that strong. Aaron gave himself over to the woman and her pleasing ways, for he’d not had a woman perform such an act on him. He gave pleasure such as this to women, but none returned his favor and the truth of what he’d been denied made his hands grip her head, bury his fingers in that lush mass of golden curls to hold her just, stay her course to its finality!
Mac felt his hands gentle as the last spasm of pleasure escaped from his cock. With little thought she rained small loving kisses over and around him as if wanting to reawake the beast for another round. But the gentle massage he gave to her shoulders said it was finished and yet Mac could feel the life still pulsing beneath her lips, it would be so easy to rule this man. She’d never experienced such power, the knowledge was thrilling.
She wanted the dream to stay just a little longer and let herself rest against him, feel him. How strange to feel the course roughness of his pubic hair, even sated his cock was still large. The image of a large cat laying in wait for its next attack crossed her mind and with it came a ounce of regret that he too would go in hiding, become the dream once again. Mac wondered if she could ever capture this again, be with him once more.
Time could be an enemy, for Mac knew he needed to go. She wanted one last look. In an almost fevered state, her heated gaze raced over him, wanting to remember every masculine nuance standing before her, thankful for the unusual clarity of this dream, knowing she would never forget him. He would vanish, maybe forever.
Drawn by desire Mackenzie moved closer until her breast pressed in wanton abandon against him. “Just one kiss...please?” she whispered, hoping it possible. Standing on tiptoes, Mackenzie gave into her obsession over his arresting lips. Barely touching the lips before her, she breathed deeply, taking in the essence surrounding him; a wild, heady aroma, filled with open sky and salt tainted ocean. The dark liquid pools of his eyes reflected her image, making her wish she could lose herself in their ardent depths, forever. She closed her own and moved closer, touching, seeking the dream… finding the man.
“I wish you were real.” All her heart’s longings came out in feathery softness against the impassioned lips now capturing her own. Dream, so be it. Mac melted against the surrounding heat. Feeling the pressure demanding her attention, she gave into the call as old as time. The pleasures flowing through her were so real, so powerful, they became her existence and she demanded more.
Unable to refuse her, nearly crazy with wanting her, Aaron folded the enchantress within the circle of his arms. Her touch was like the fires of hell, all sweet promises of ecstasy and he was already iron hard. There was no gentle taking as he brought her body against his own. Capturing her willing lips, he took her, deepening the kiss her haunting pleas begged him to master. His hands encircled her small waist, roaming freely over the delicately curved hips and firm buttocks. He wanted more and without thought Aaron molded her honey warmed spice over his inflamed cock.
Aaron tried to fight the ravenous yearning rekindling inside him, needing more to treasure the feel of her and experience the desire she so willingly gave over to him. He wanted all of her. Yet the moist touch of her spice against his cock became the master. Her excitement mounted and he let her discover the feel of his cock against her clit, so fluid and hot as she rolled over him, taking on what her hands started.
He lifted her off the floor and gloried in victory when her legs wrapped about his hips. They were powerful allowing him the freedom to discover his enchantress. Aaron dismissed the gown, then tore his shirt off. “Ah, I want to feel you my lovely.”
Aaron went to his knees wanting more freedom to touch her beautiful body. Breast soft as kittens filled his palm and when his lips took possession of her nipples she cried out in ecstasy over his tongue’s tormenting play. He released his hold as she settled into his lap, he captured her head between his ample hands.
“You are a beautiful woman.”
He saw her lips part in a smile and it was all he needed to take her. As delicious as he expected Aaron devoured her mouth, then went back to the lush areolas, lavishing them into excited arousal so he could roll his palm over them and relish her rewarding torture. How she arched to his touch, her body was like a fine sculpture and Aaron loved touching the porcelain beauty.
Her freedom in touching him, working him with those small delicate hands and her lips, such pleasure should be cherished. When an enchanting moan escaped her exquisite lips, Aaron feared he would be branded by the blaze she ignited. Pressing her closer, he molded her closer to his cockhead, confirming the power she held over him. When she moved enticingly over him, his moan blended with the music of her bewitching song. Holding her hips he laid back and kept her moist spice covering his cock. She moved on her own, back and forth in slow wondrous strokes. Aaron watched her has his fingers found her sexual core. She pressed into his touch her head fell back silently giving him the freedom to take her. In gentle intent he brought her to the threshold of pleasure, “do you want it?”
“Yes, damn you!”
“Tch, such a temper…here my lovely, here is a taste of what you called me to give to you.”
Aaron released his hold on himself and with expert ease he brought the beauty to a climax that made her cry out! The flood of her pleasure washed over his throbbing cock and he knew she was ready for him.
With both hands on her hips Aaron raised her just enough to position his cockhead to her maidenhead and its throbbing life. With one hand he again played over the center of her arousal, she instantly fire with the need he created and began a slow rhythm against his head just as Aaron moved up to press his advantage. In one instant of equal assault she slid over his cock as he lunged into her.
Her cry was sharp and short but it didn’t go unheard and Aaron froze over the truth he didn’t believe. “You can’t be!”
But be there damage it was forgotten as she started a stronger more forceful motion and Aaron gave up the thought of backing away and joined her dives onto his cock with his own lunge to sate the fire inside her.
This was no longer a game and Aaron took control, rolling with her he moved her under him and he plunged to the depth of her core. She took hold of his buttocks trying to hold him against her and he knew she wanted the pleasure he could give her by pressing into her passion nub. With the expertise learned in many countries, Aaron showed the enchantress how to feel and she reached for him, wanting every volatile sensation he could give her. The sexual fever took hold of Aaron and his thrusts were as violent as those of the witch beneath him. He felt her tighten around his cock and he went deeper and harder until she reach an explosive climax and Aaron allow his own to flow into her, filling her with the steam of his seed until they were both spent and quivering in exhausted enchantment.
All rational thought fled, burning was worth the ecstasy he discovered in his arms. He would never let her go, not now, even if it meant purgatory for all eternity. Aaron would not be denied! Her provocative cries barely penetrated the thunder of passion swirling inside him.
“Oh, God! Don’t let him vanish. He’s my dream. I want to keep him. Please? Forever!”
Lifting her in his arms, Aaron gathered her unresisting body to him. Instinct drove him back toward the barren darkness. “You are mine, vixen! I will never give you back to whatever master you claim. God or devil, they will neither claim you. You are mine...witch!”
Through the burning flames capturing her senses Mackenzie’s mind heard the hostile vow. With it came a shuddering feeling that reached beyond the passion her dream pulled her into. She felt the man! The hot vital strength of his possession, one she created with her willful advances. His arms were strong and held her in an unbreakable grip against his rock solid chest. Reality came rushing in, bringing a flood of panic.
“Dreams aren’t real...not solid.” Groaning, she knew they didn’t carry the flames of overwhelming passion or have the sexual power she discovered.
“I am no dream, madam, and neither are you.”
“No!” she moaned. Her cry tore through the haze swallowing her, ripping deep against the very real danger rising to seize her. Fear brought with it reality and he was all too real!
Striking out in earnest against his steel hold, she battled. Mackenzie confronted the fear for the truth that she failed to see. No dream could be holding her like this, touch her the way he did, kiss... “I didn’t, couldn’t have.” Her groan of denial failed to erase passion’s rampant fire.
“Let me go!” Her gaze flew up to meet his scorching glare. “You must go! You’re not real...a dream! This can’t be happening!” Her voice was shaking, screaming out with the sudden urgency filling her senses.
“I assure you, I am no dream. The cock you held is alive and still on fire. Nothing will smother the flames you wrought, woman, nothing but burying myself to the core of your existence!”
Mackenzie’s eyes grew large under the harsh words. The truth was there, beneath her hands. “Please...I made a mistake, I’m sorry. Put me down! You have to!”
“Why? Afraid of your master?”
“Master?”
“Devil or God, woman, he cannot help you now. I have you and you are most certainly as real as I. Damned as I may be, I am determined to keep you!”
His eyes grew shadowy in their fevered conviction, stilling her panicky cries, ending her frantic movements. True fear filled her over the cold sneer now replacing remembered warmth, causing a frightened moan to escape unchecked from her trembling lips.
“I have what I want, woman.”
Words failed her as his meaning sank to the depth of her panic, causing her to stare wide-eyed in shaking denial.
Turning with her locked in his arms, his challenging laughter struck out against the devouring blackness. Sinking into the void, Mackenzie lost herself in the abyss, clinging to him as they fell, her terrified scream filling the darkness.
* * * *
The pounding in Aaron’s temples broke through the nightmare, making him hold his head to fight the assaulting pressure. Rolling to his side he forced his legs out and over the mattress as he strained to sit up.
“Ach, stop this infernal ringing!” Shaking his head to clear it, Aaron gripped the bed board to keep from falling back.
“The dream again! Damn that woman.” Aaron concentrated for it seemed important. “If I had drunk the devil’s own rum I would feel better than this.”
Again the dream that plagued him came rushing back. This time her image was clearer, more intense in its beauty, no longer just the illusion he lived with these last weeks.
Night blackened the portal, another sleepless night.
Cursing the woman again wouldn’t change the dream, one that felt all too real. He swore he could smell her flowery sweetness, still feel the heady warmth of her body, the fold of her moist spice covering his cock. And her voice, such heavenly music, never had it been so clear. Surely, he was bewitched or at sea too long. Yes, that must be it. He longed to be home in Salem and finished with the voyage. Sighing with the relief this brought the tight hold on his lips eased.
The last shipment proved well worth the risk; the hold bulged with goods for the Boston merchants. Even after those infuriating taxes to the crown were paid, they would still have a good take from the load. Todd would soon follow in the Seafarer with the balance of the shipments.
Aaron swelled with pride. During the last four years, he built his shipping line up to eight well-rigged merchants. Making runs from England, the West Indies, to the Gold Coast of Africa, his ships were manned with reliable, hand-picked men, under trustworthy captains. Even those damn pirates of Jacques Dubois stayed clear of his vessels. Aaron made sure his reputation would not be ignored. Tracking down the last raiders, and recovering his goods, paid off. Now Dubois thought twice about boarding his ships. Aaron invested too much of his life to have it line thieves’ pockets.
For the last three years, he barely set foot on land long enough to get the feel of it. Now, three days out of Boston and unloading, then home to Salem and his new house. He planned to stay in port this next year and devote his time to running the business from his office. Plans for his next expansion would keep him busy.
Andrew should be waiting with the new trade contracts from Africa. Aaron looked forward to seeing his friend. He still marveled over the fates bringing them together five years ago. Andrew’s contacts in Africa were proving invaluable. Once the trade courses were set and the two new ships rigged out, they would sail. Thinking on it, Aaron remained adamant about never transporting slaves. Whether Andrew realized it or not, he played no part in the decision. Aaron held no stomach for it and he refused to have his ships tainted by its revulsion. They could keep that wealth; there was enough honest trade to satisfy his needs. Yes, everything was finally coming together.
“Everything except these infernal dreams!”
The pressure must have brought them on. He’d been pushing himself beyond human endurance. Why now? Aaron worked hard for this day. Nothing would stop him from reaching his goal.
His head still pounded with the fresh images of the dream. She was the most exquisite creature even if she be a witch. Skin so soft it felt like polished ivory, lovely full breasts that filled his palm, yearning for his touch, and her response to him was something new and fresh. Women did not give of themselves like that to a man.
“What am I thinking? Damn witch get out of my head!” Loud, his angry words filled the cabin. “I am talking as if the woman were real...if only she could be.” Feeling like he did now, he wondered if he would not choke her elegant neck, instead of devouring it with the hunger to which she drove him.
Putting his head in his hands, he fell back into the mattress, wanting the peace of sleep without dreams. The small moan meeting him the instant his head connected with the soft, yet firm mound jettisoned his body off the bed. Staggering hard into the map table, he sent the charts flying across the room. “By all the saints!”
Shocked, worried eyes struggled to see what he shuddered to believe possible in the darkened cabin.
“Damn!” Clumsily searching for a flint, he finally managed to light the wick. The lantern cast a bright glow over the shadow washed cabin. Raising the lamp, Aaron took a cautious step toward the bed, holding the lantern still higher as the womanly form took shape. Nearly losing his grip on the light, it took both hands to hold it steady when she came into view.
“How?” The question met silence, drawing him closer to the vision. “The dream...what happened?” Aaron fought the recall, closing his eyes against the answers.
She stood in a bright room, a cup slipped from her fingers falling into a silvery hole and breaking. Nothing else remained clear...only her.
Yes, he remembered now. He’d been furious with her. All day she haunted him, constantly calling for him. The sadness coming from her clawed at him until he could stand it no longer. Retiring to his cabin early to wait for her calls, Aaron knew they would soon return. When she reached out this time, he opened himself to her, letting her pull him through that thick blanket of darkness. No longer was she just an image, fading when he reached out. She stood there to be seen, to smell. He swallowed hard...to touch.
She seemed as shocked as he was over his presence. What did she say? “Dream.” Yes, she kept repeating that he was not real, but only a dream.
Looking at her, she appeared real enough. Experimentally, Aaron reached out, jerking his hand away when it touched the giving curve. Slowly his hand went back, caressing the soft line of her hip, moving down the naked sheen of her nicely shaped legs.
A moan came from her. Pulling back, he watched as she turned onto her back. Wild, corn silk curls splayed out over the pillows, casting an unearthly light about her.
Aaron caught his breath over the beauty stretched out before him. He let his gaze wander over her, stopping at her exposed breast. He swallowed his moan over the memory, their taste and the thrill he created in her. The desire to touch her propelled through him, hardening his cock with its force. It was pure madness to want a dream with such longing, but she hardly qualified as an illusion any longer. No, she was laying in his bed, in his cabin, on board his ship, the Wanderer...his.
Somehow, he brought her back with him. He took a dream and made it real. He could not deny the truth no matter what logic he exercised. They sailed over three months ago.
Slowly, the night’s darkness faded into dawn and Aaron found himself in the same position, still watching her sleeping form. His head pounded and the reason only intensified. Through the escaping night, Aaron realized many things. One, this woman was not going to vanish. All his wishing, denying and cursing against her existence failed to send her back. Smiling to himself, he knew he felt almost pleased over the discovery. He wanted her in his dreams, in that room, and refused to let her go when she begged him to do so. Now, be it anger or desire, it mattered little, now she belonged to him. At first angry, he decided her witching or some trick made him take her like that. Honesty made him admit his own desire to possess her forced his action against her, then he stole her from the power that brought them together. By his rash act, he wondered if he declared war on whatever god or devil she belonged to. Could he expect to win against such a force, against…Mac?
Gazing on her again, Aaron inwardly cringed. That moment, that one instant in time when she cried out…he remembered. Aaron cursed her for not telling him she was a virgin and himself for his lack of control. “I would do it again.”
If he were her master, giving her up without a fight would never be an option. The admission steeled his determination concerning her.
Aaron would give her the chance to go back from whence she came. If she could leave, no doubt she would never haunt him again. He wondered if she possessed any real measure of power. He alone brought her here; maybe he held the power? It mattered not, he would soon discover the answer.
Remembering how fervently she fought when she thought him a dream, Aaron expected her battle over discovering a very real man would not be pretty. No, she would probably turn into a very real and furious cockatrice.
That posed the largest problem. How in the world could he explain her presence on board his ship? Answers continued to escape him, every excuse died by his own questions, never would they withstand those of his men. Her appearance earlier in the voyage could have been explained by a very believable stowaway story and solved everything. Now, there was only one thing to do and Aaron did not like the answer.
The stronger light moving into the cabin told him he must act. The consequences over her discovery were too great to bear thinking about.
Heavy movements filled with regret took Aaron about the cabin locating the items he needed. Pulling at the curtain cord, Aaron yanked it off its hold. Snapping it between his large hands, he tested its strength. Satisfied, he pulled down its mate. Going to the wardrobe, he retrieved a scarf, selecting silk over a rougher material.
He could not put it off any longer. Mister Baker would soon be seeking him out if he failed to appear on deck. The man’s growing concern over his captain’s actions of late would drive him to the cabin. Smiling sadly, Aaron wondered what Baker would do if he really knew the peculiarities of his captain’s condition.
As gently as possible Aaron wrapped the first cord about her ankles, taking the length up to her knees, he secured it tightly, knowing all her movements would be restricted by the rope’s hold. Taking her wrist Aaron moved first one, than easing her on her side he secured the other to the first, bringing the rope end down to her ankles. Only a small moan came from her during his binding. He hoped, knowing how badly he felt upon waking, that she was just suffering from the effects of the journey through that black void he now remembered. Touching her delicate wrists and ankles, Aaron worried over how frail they appeared. He would need to check the ropes continually to prevent any harm to her.
He hated tying her like this, knowing how frightened she would soon become. Only the gag remained. It pained him beyond thought to do this terrible thing to her, but remembering the fight in her, he could not chance her discovery. Lowering himself over her, Aaron hesitated, “Ah my beauty, you will hate me for this, but I will make it up to you, I promise. Just three days, bear it for three days.” Sealing his words with a light kiss, Aaron placed the gag to her silent mouth. Easing her tied body against the inside wall of the bunk, he covered her with the quilts.
At the door, he turned to check on his handy work. From where he stood, she could not be seen and no one would pass this threshold. Thankfully, they were sailing the Wanderer. His cabin was in the stern, away from all the other quarters. The passenger cabins were empty and only he came to this section. To be sure, Aaron locked his cabin, something he never had call to do before this day. Neither had he ever tied up a defenseless woman, but her discovery posed too great a danger.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he would make quick with his rounds this morn. Remembering her softness and the cord’s roughness there was little time before she did injury to herself.
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