Some of y'all might remember Darkness Awaits. This was actually the first book I had published, but the publisher went under about six months after the book was released.
For the longest I didn't do anything with it, but I've decided to overhaul it. It was originally written in first person, but I'm changing it to third... which is going to be a nightmare! My writing style has also changed significantly since then too, so I'm trying to put my voice back in it. The original editor pretty much stripped that out, and with me being new, I didn't know any better, so I let it happen.
Live and learn. Believe me when I say that wouldn't happen now. Anyway, I just started on this. As I get into it, I'll probably change some of the plot points too. We'll see how it goes.
LOL, when I wrote this, I thought 30K was soooo long. *snort* How things have changed.
Chapter One
The
silky weight of the blindfold might obscure Michael’s vision, but it did
nothing to stop the heavy breathing behind him. A chill raced up his back, his
muscles tightening because this wasn’t the first time he’d dreamed this and
knew what was coming. A sharp pull at his hair jerked his head back, his dream
lover kissing the side of his neck. Sharp, pointed teeth nipped along his
jugular.
“Fuck,”
Michael gasped, shivering at the implied threat from those teeth.
Secured
against a broad chest, his mysterious lover lightly ran his hand down the front
of Michael’s shirt, torturing his pierced nipple through the thin material
before moving on to the next. Michael moaned.
“Don’t
move until I tell you,” he whispered.
“W-who
are you?”
“The
wait is almost over, Michael. Soon we’ll be together. I’ll give you what you
need, what you’ve yet to admit you crave.”
The
fact his question wasn’t answered, along with the possessiveness, should’ve sent
up a million red flags. But instead of scaring him, the words resonated deeply
within. Instinct long buried insisted there was nothing to fear, even when
rational thought said otherwise. He leaned his head back, his breath stalling
out as cool fingers brushed his skin as each shirt button was undone. When the
folds parted, Michael tensed.
“Remember
to breathe, beautiful.”
Michael
exhaled noisily. Who knew breathing was required in a dream? That thought was
derailed when the hoops in his nipples were twisted. The sharp, brief pain
faded when the touch turned gentle.
“Ah,
shit.” Michael clenched his fists. The temptation to explore all that flesh
pressed against him was nearly overwhelming. But something warned him he
shouldn’t.
The
shirt slid off his body, pooling at his feet. Slowly his arms were pulled
behind him, and cold, hard metal enclosed his wrists. The loud click startled
Michael, and a small tentacle of fear wiggled through the mist of pleasure
blanketing his mind.
“Trust
me, Michael. I won’t harm you.”
Michael
knew that. This was, after all, a dream. Michael whined when a hard cock ground
against his ass. Jeez, someone was hung like a jury. Michael’s cock strained
against the front of his jeans, wetting his boxers, and quickly becoming
uncomfortable.
“Touch
me. Please. I need to feel your hands on me.” Michael shook in his lover’s
arms.
He
wiggled his hips—determined to force the issue since asking wasn’t getting him
anywhere—then jumped when several hard slaps rained down on his ass. Heat snaked
straight to his cock, making him harder.
His
balls pulled up tight to his body, and he groaned. Just a few slaps and he was
in jeopardy of coming. It was ridiculous, and thrilling, and so over the top
that the shock of being spanked almost outweighed the shock of how much he
liked it. How could a simple slap to the ass ignited such a desperate yearning?
“More.
Please, more.”
“Easy,
now. We’re going to take this nice and slow. I’m going make you scream when I
finally claim you, then I’m going to make you beg for more,” the dream lover hissed
in Michael’s ear.
