the gift of control

part two.

Feraye was fast asleep, but she was dreaming. Of what, she wasn't sure. She smelled a scent that had been haunting each waking hour that now haunted her sleeping ones.

His scent.

The woodsy citrus that called to her like a siren's song called to the sunken sailors. She lost all thought when her nose got a whiff of it.

She yearned to feel him surround her, his kisses, his affection, his body and even to be intimate with him.

That haunted her dreams the most.

She needed more. She felt herself get agitated in her dream, searching and searching for the origin of that scent.

She would find it and smother herself in it, bathe in it, if only to pretend Ateş was with her always.

****

Ateş had not slept a wink.

He was too aware of his wife's writhing form beside him. She must have been in the throes of a dream as she tossed side to side.

"Ateş," Feraye moaned.

She moaned his name.

His cock stiffened in record time. She was dreaming about him as she tossed and turned in a restless state.

As if, she was dreaming of him doing things to her.

Ateş groaned. He prided himself on his control. He always had to be in control of himself and of situations.

He had to be in control here and respect his wife while she was vulnerable in her dream, whatever she dreamt.

Ateş laid on his back and pushed his hands beneath his head, turning his face away and trying to tune her out.

He had to stay strong.

"Ateş, please, please," Feraye continued to moan. The bed shifted and he felt a weight get thrown over his thighs.

Her leg.

Her leg was millimeters away from his aching cock, her calf gripping the outside of his thigh as she pulled herself closer—into the crook of his armpit. His fingers locked behind his head underneath the pillow.

He had to stay strong.

He prayed for strength to get through tonight, tomorrow he would get a new sofa, a sturdier sofa, one that would—oh fuck!

Feraye pushed herself over his body until she was straddling his hips, his hardness pressed snuggly up to her hot center as she rested her face into the crook of his neck.

"Feraye, please," he tried to cajole her out of her dream without touching her but it wasn't working.

She began to undulate on top of him, working his cock further into her heat, only their clothes rested between them. If the thin pieces of clothing weren't there, they would be fucking.

Ateş pushed his hands further up, over his head and gripped the rails of the bed frame headboard.

"Stay strong, stay in control..." he kept whispering to himself as she worked her hips, chasing whatever pleasure she needed in her dream. "Stay strong, stay in control..."

He gritted his teeth as she turned her head and started kissing the side of his neck, sucking on his skin. Ateş felt that pull all the way in his pulsating cock.

He felt pre-cum leak from him and she continued her sultry dance on top of him. He knew he didn't stand a chance and would come when she reached her own pinnacle.

God, he wanted her to come for him, to unravel before him and surrender for him.

"Fuck, Feraye, please..." he didn't know what he was begging for. Salvation? He would take this specific brand of torture for the rest of his days.

She was soaked, he knew, he could feel her heat seep into his sweats and now his boxers. Ateş could smell her arousal permeating the air, he took it in deep breaths, taking her scent in his memory.

"Ateş! Please let me come please," she begged in her sleep as if he was edging her and denying Feraye her release.

She dreamt about him controlling her orgasm, denying her what she ached for the most, her pleasure.

His control snapped.

Ateş bucked into her once, then twice. He removed his hands from the rails and gripped her hips, finally feeling bliss. He held her as they both moved together in this illicit dance. She would chase each one of his thrusts with a push of her own.

"Yes, come for me, ay ışığı, come for me," he was going to explode the moment she did, he knew. His cock was hard as stone as it continued to push into her hot cunt.

"Yes, yes, yes, Ateş..." his little minx of a wife wanted to come for him, well at least in her dreams.

That pulled him out of his haze.

For her, this was a dream, not real and he was taking advantage of her.

He stopped rutting into her abruptly and held her hips with a firm grip of his hands.

Ateş felt Feraye stiffen. She was awake.

It was silent for a few pounding heartbeats.

"Oh my god! Ateş, I'm so sorry!" He cringed as he heard the complete and utter horror in her words.

"It's okay, we're okay, Feraye." He murmured as she scrambled off of him.

This was pure torture.

Dreams were dreams for a reason, they held no inkling of reason or reality. He knew Feraye would never want him.