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.
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.