My heart stopped for a moment. Barely could breath because it was unbelievable to accept. Getting dark all around. Stepping back as I look forward I see my favorite childhood doll turning into a six-foot-tall man.
𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆- Age gap, forbidden roma...
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"What are you trying to convey?" I respond with a tremulous voice, as his words send a shiver down my spine.
"If you truly seek a thread to your mother's past, you must sleep with me."
"That is an impossibility."
I attempt to rise, striking his chest in an effort to push him off me, but in doing so, only hurt my own clenched fist; his body seems to have turned to stone, as if it would clang like steel if struck with force.
"You cannot do anything without my consent."
"I don't need any leads; I can figure everything out on my own. I don't want anything like this with you."
"Whether you want to or not, you will have to do it. If you're willing, it will be by your own volition; if not, I will force you."
"Please, I have a fiancé."
"What does that matter to me?" he says dismissively.
"No p-"
As I attempt to stir, suddenly my entire body relinquishes its strength and becomes enfeebled, a sensation begins to pervade, akin to the one I experienced upon first encountering this room in a dream. However, I am inclined to believe that it was not, in fact, a mere figment of my imagination.
In the previous dream, he had performed an action, yet its memory eludes me. I then perceive a warm tongue tracing circles upon my throat, fingers deftly brushing aside strands of hair that pose a threat. The sensation of wet upon my skin is truly abhorrent.
His lips trace a trail up towards my ear, teasing and nibbling gently on the soft lobe. I can't even arch my neck.
Finally his lips crash down onto mine with impossible force, stealing my breath in a passionate kiss. He tastes of sin and desire as his tongue explores my mouth with wild abandon. Hands wrap around my neck, pulling him closer as our kiss deepens, our tongues dueling for dominance. His body presses against me, rubbing his arousal against my hip, making me desperately want him inside of me.
His fingers thread through my hair, tugging gently while continuing to kiss me, his hold both possessive and loving at the same time. With every stroke of his tongue, every caress of his lips upon me, I feel my resolve weakening under his relentless advance. My heart races erratically within my chest and I can smell his arousal - it's heady and intoxicating; a potent mix of masculinity and lust. I break the kiss only long enough to whisper breathlessly against his lips,
