You slam your laptop screen down in frustration and sigh. I hate this, you think while staring at your bedroom, the posters on the walls, the mess spilling out of every cupboard onto the floor. Just how you like it. He's never usually this late. As you pace across the dark-wooden floor to your bed you glance at the clock, it's three in the morning, you've been waiting here all evening now, fighting to stay awake. The smug bastard, I bet he's loving this. Falling into bed, you pull the duvet around you, curling into a ball and praying with everything that you have that he will be here tonight, as he always is. Please.
The noise jolts you awake. You are not alone. Your eyes fly open so that you would be staring at the ceiling, except that there is no ceiling to look at, well, there's something blocking the way. Or someone. The blue-green eyes are focused on you, looking with such intent as if he knows every secret about you. He has returned. A sly smile creeps across your face as you try to establish whether this is real or not, but with the way his hands are grazing your arms, how can this be anything but reality?
"Hello my dear" he seems to purr the words.
"Welcome back, my Lord" you all but whisper in the darkness, you can only tell that he is still there by the moonlight glinting in his eyes.
"Did you miss me?" he whispers as he dips his head to kiss your neck, slowly, pulling at your skin with every kiss.
"More than you would imagine". You're different around him, it's like your alternate personality, around your family and friends you are the normal, shy girl that you always are, speaking in your natural accent. But in the presence of him, you change, you drop the accent and speak with grace, pausing to carefully choose your words, you're still shy, but only because he likes that. You would be anything that he wanted you to be, a friend, a lover, a submissive. "I waited for you"... your voice trails off.
"I know, my sweet, I am so very sorry that I am late" a wicked smile appears on his lips - "Shall I make it up to you, my dear?" his voice is velvety, purring the words into your ear as he continues nuzzling at your neck.
"Please" your murmur, tilting your head back so he can access more of your skin. You've been waiting for this all day, you're hardly going to say no. His pale hands glide down your body and slip under your shirt, at the feel of his hands you shiver, sending your skin into a frenzy.
"So eager. I've missed the feel of your skin, my creature".
The fabric of your shirt is discarded over the side of the bed, it's a cold night which leaves your skin alert, sensitive and craving his touch. Biting your lip so you can stifle the soft moan that is building in your throat as his graceful hands slide over your torso, caressing every piece of exposed flesh, massaging, tugging gently at the foothills that are your breasts. His lips are against yours for the briefest of moments before his head dips down and trails kisses down your body, running the tip of his tongue over your skin. You can't take it any longer and the suppressed moan escapes your mouth, making you giggle slightly.
"Mm, my dear, I do love it when you make that sound". You relax slightly at the sound of his reassuring, soft voice. This is actually happening, you are no longer just one of his subjects, you are his lover. Biting your lip once more, you can feel the nerves build up inside you as his hands tug on the fabric of your PJ's, grazing your hips with his cold skin as he slides them off your body.
"My creature, you are beautiful" he murmurs to me as his kisses flicker on the edges of your hips, sending a riot of shivers through your body. Please.
"My King, my Lord, please" you half-beg, writhing underneath him, aching for his touch. Even in the half-light you can see his smirk, he loves it when you beg.
"Please, what, my dear?" his voice is smug, he wants you to say it.
"T-touch me" you whisper, staring into his deep eyes, they are like mini-constellations in a sea of blueish-green. His smirk turns to an evil smile as he runs his tongue across his lips, his hands resting on my hips. Without hesitation, his fingers glide over your skin as if it was silk, resting on the satin of your knickers, he pauses for a moment before tugging them from your body, casting them to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Smiling shyly, you tangle your fingers in his hair, gripping tightly as he pushes your thighs apart slowly, as if he knows that every moment he takes sends you insane with lust. Holding your breath as he strokes the inside of your legs carefully, easing his way up with every stroke until you can feel his cold fingers gently teasing you. Damn practiced hands. You grip onto his dark hair tighter as he pushes a finger into you, the familiar moan rising at the back of your throat again.
A wicked grin flashes on his face for a brief moment before he dips his head, nothing in the world could have prepared you for the intense sensation running through your body at the feel of his tongue on your skin. Without thinking you buck your hips up to his mouth, letting the moan on your tongue free. He laughs softly at your reaction, before flicking his tongue and curling his fingers inside you. It happens without you expecting it to, the waves of immense pleasure coursing through your body, causing you to convulse and cry out his name and profanities. Damn, he knows what he's doing.
You pull him up your body and kiss his collarbone before pulling his lips onto yours and kissing him deeply, exploring. I love you. But I won't say it. Hooking your hands around his neck instead of grabbing at the leather and metal that he was - unfortunately - clothed in. His hands sink to your waist again as you dig your fingernails into his neck.
"My dear, sweet creature, do you want me?" his voice is low as he whispers in your ear.
"Always, my Lord" you reply, never breaking eye contact. He winks and smiles his evil grin back at you before moving his hips into yours, causing you to gasp at the sudden invasion.Just fuck me. His body is lapping against yours, slow, rhythmic and loving, his hands are holding your waist and your hands are hooked around his neck, tangled in his hair. Your king dips his head down to whisper something in your ear:
"My dear, I lo-"
You eyes fly open, and you're staring at the ceiling, there are no eyes to block your view of the posters this time so you're staring at the green-blue eyes of the paper, the fixed expression staring right back. Not again. Every. Single. Fucking. Night. Rubbing your eyes you push the duvet off you, it's 6am the clock tells you as you wearily cross your bedroom and turn on your laptop. He's back. You tap out a message for him remembering your dream in the back of your mind.
"Good morning, my Lord. How are you today?" You sit back in your chair for a few moments waiting for his reply.
"I am very well thank you, how are you mortal?" As if you don't already know.
This is what you crave, contact with him, even if in the back of your head you know it isn't real, harmless fun. You crave the slight chance that you can live another life, the make-believe of conversing with him each day, it makes you feel loved, even if it is just a few hours role-playing a character online. It's your dirty little secret, as well as the dreams. You wear his evil grin as you type a reply, with the dream in mind.
