Beyond the Vision of Dreams

Excerpt from: Beyond the Vision of Dreams

The mouth around his cock hummed as he throbbed within it, fucking it brutally. The woman attached to it, moaned and then pulled off, smirking, turning so she was on all fours. He growled and grabbed her hips, sliding into her sopping pussy. She moaned and turned her gaze to the mirror in front of her, suddenly there, and watched him fuck her, her bright green eyes going wide then shutting as he felt her coming, his body shuddering with her, feeling himself spurting into her slick warm flesh...

Remy sat up in bed and looked at the clock. It was just before dawn, and he was alone, much to his distaste. Fucking dreams. I swear one day I'm going to remember all of them. Then they are in for a serious load of trouble. He swung his legs out of bed and padded naked to his bathroom. He didn't turn on the lights, his night vision perfected by his heritage, as Pythons were almost blind in the daylight, but could see as clear as day in the darkness.

He gained the sink and turned on the faucet, running his hands under the cold water and bringing a small pool up to his face, effectively waking himself up. This is just getting ridiculous. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in a week. Maybe I need to get laid. Nah, well yeah but that's not going to help it. That's the last time I suggest fucking 'til dawn to Elise. Shit knows that's exactly what happened, but shit if I'm still pent up. He smiled at himself in the mirror and walked back out to his bedroom, intent on actually trying to get some sleep.

The same girl every night was getting a little old. Not that he was against monogamy, but the fact that he didn't know the raven-haired beauty with the brilliant-green eyes, had never seen her in his life, disturbed him slightly. The dreams were always erotic, and while the parts he remembered were never the same, the same woman starred in them night after night.

He laid back down, the cool air of the night filtering through the open French doors to his private deck and caressing his body like the dream lover he still thought about. Thank god Succubi don't really invade dreams, or I'd be worse than fucked. He stretched his muscular body on the steel-coloured sheets and groaned, the dark-haired beauty still playing havoc in his waking mind.

Whoever she was, she was quite the whore in the bedroom. Was she real? He knew some of the others in the créche, or nest, had prophetic dreams but in the thirty-five years of his life, not once had it happened to him. Either way, it bore looking into, and once he was truly awake, his head not fuzzy with the fog of sleep, he would revisit the problem with a renewed sense of purpose. Now...

His eyes closed, and she came to him again, her coy smile and lush glossy lips beckoning him. He smiled and cupped his once again rampant erection, grasping with just enough pressure to make him groan. He stroked himself, growling, his dream girl taking over pumping his cock in his head, his self gratification replaced by her sweet caresses straight from his mind.

It didn't take long as he was already worked up from the dreams, and he came hard, groaning and licking his lips, his hot, sticky cum pooling on his ab-riddled stomach. Pants escaped his mouth, and he whistled. "Well fuck if that didn't do the trick," he said as he quickly cleaned up and turned his head towards the window.

The dregs of sleep he had felt were turning into tendrils, and he yawned, his eyes growing heavy as the sun started to break on the horizon.

What seemed like minutes to him was actually four hours as his alarm went off. "Christ." He sat up, grabbed a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the harsh smoke.

"Breakfast of champions. Fuck, at least, it's not a bottle of gin."

He walked to the bathroom once again and went through his morning routine, finishing his shower and dressing in under fifteen minutes. He could hear and feel the rest of the house already up and about around him, their latent energy hum resonating throughout the vast mansion. He dreaded going down to the morning room. Remy Crane was a lot of things, but morning person wasn't one of them.

He hoped he didn't catch wind of Elise on his way down since he was still a little stung from her turning down his offer the night before. Thinking he could banish the woman who turned his dream crank nightly by actually getting some physical tail was the plan, but the Archon, or nest leader, Elise Rizdon, had not shared his ideas or the sentiment. Not that he'd expected her to, but it had been worth a shot.