Avenoir

Avenoir - John

John

Kristen moans in her sleep and I open my eyes to check on her. She rolls her head to one side and mumbles something. It sounds like Marlena, don't do it.

Don't do what? I wonder what it is she's dreaming about, and I frown as I see her forehead crease and her face twist in what looks like fear. "Don't!" She starts to thrash about, and I lean closer, running my hand down her arm. "Please don't tell him! Don't tell John!" She slurs the words in her sleep, but they are clear enough this time and I sit back in my chair feeling confused and more than a little bit suspicious. Tell me what? What is she worried that someone might tell me? That Marlena might tell me?

I think back to the earlier interactions between Kristen and Doc, the undercurrent that I sensed between them. The slightly acid edge to Kristen's tone. Marlena's unexpected laughter when I confessed to Kristen that I had kissed her.

I realise with a start that Marlena was going to tell me something. Right before Kristen walked in, when I was... when I'd woken up with her in my arms. That was why I was frustrated about having to sit here with Kristen before I took my wander down memory lane. She wanted to tell me something and I knew it was important.

Something Kristen doesn't want me to know.

I lean forward, my elbows on my knees and rub my hands over my face, trying to clear my head as I pick back through the events and conversations of the past hour in my mind. What were we talking about when she said she wanted to tell me something? I thought I'd been having a dream, and I woke up and it was Doc. It was Marlena I was kissing. And she felt just as warm and soft under my hands as she had in my dream.

I was dreaming she'd come to my room at the loft. I don't know why I was dreaming that I was at the loft, but I was in my bed, unable to sleep and I looked up to see her standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with the hint of a smile on her face.

She was wearing one of those white silky, lacy nightgowns she wears sometimes, the ones that make her look like an angel, but an incredibly sexy one that you might just want to ravish when she falls to earth. I'd smiled at her, and she came to me, leaning over me and smoothing her fingers across my face. She looked and smelled good enough to eat.

"I want you," I murmured, and standing there with the moonlight softly shining behind her, illuminating her, she told me she wanted me too. With a groan I pulled her into my arms, finding her soft, warm lips with mine and I kissed her hungrily, my arms tight around her, relishing the feeling of her beneath my palms and my fingertips.

The last time I kissed her like that was on a polished conference table at Titan. At least, the last time when it wasn't the devil wearing her face. It has been such a long time. That feels like a lifetime ago, and yet my hunger for her is still as real and as present as it ever was.

My fingers threaded through her hair, short now which was a was a new sensation and I felt the warmth of her melting into my skin. I licked my way across her soft, plump lips and I swallowed the gentle sigh that fell from her as she opened her mouth my tongue met hers.

I feel myself growing harder as I recall the dream and how real it felt, and I surreptitiously push against my throbbing cock as my heart thumps in my chest. It felt real, because it was real. She was here and I was kissing her. I recall waking out of my dream and seeing her face. It's hazy, she was smiling down at me, and I figured I must still be dreaming. So, I curled my arm around her and kissed her again. My mouth on her delicious lips, my body against her warmth, my thigh wrapped around hers as I devoured her. Pushing her back against the pillow, against the bed, kissing her as though my life depended on it, my tongue searching her mouth, her fingers tracing the muscles of my back.