Chapter 13

6 1 0
                                    

Her world was very warm. And seemed to be pulsing like a heart beat. A little faster though. Racing enough that it was hard to catch a full breath. Her skin felt like it was tingling and her eyes were closed, yet she could see the most beautiful sunlight. The clouds were in the sky. Almost all around her. In a haze. There were images in the haze. Images of bodies.

She went very, very still.

Those were not her images. But they were definitely images of her. That breath that was so hard to catch was hers and that was her racing heart. She was lying on her back. There was an arm curled over her hip that ended in a hand on the flat of her stomach that did not belong to her. It was just lying there. But somehow it seemed molded to her. Her head was on a shoulder. The other arm was stretched under her neck and extended out beside her. There was a face buried in the side of her neck. Breathing deeply. Making those tingling sensations on her skin. Someone was touching her. Someone was broadcasting those images while asleep. And from the feel of the hard, very male body pressed next to her thigh, she knew exactly who's arm was curled around onto her.

She carefully slid the hand off of her stomach, placing it on the thigh next to hers. His breath caught, but he didn't stir. She slid to the edge of the bed and rolled to her side, struggling to rise through the haze of images. The arm snaked out across her waist and drug her back. Now she was pressed firmly with her back to his front. And that part of him that was definitely hard male anatomy was against her backside. She didn't move. Her heart raced faster and she tried to breathe. The images were coming out of the haze and the sunlight dimming enough to make them more viewable. The arm traced down her hip and began a slow massage of her thigh. The other arm curled around her shoulder and rested on her breast.

The images were coming faster. The bodies. The movement. The sunlight. The sheets. It was blinding her with her eyes closed. It was overwhelming her senses and she couldn't get a deep enough breath. Afraid to move any more than she dared.

"Phillipe," she whispered desperately. Unable to break the spell of the images. "Oh god, Phillipe. You have to wake up." She was almost sobbing in the rush of heat that was overtaking her mind. "Please. You have to stop touching me."

"Cella?" he breathed softly into the back of her neck. She could only cringe at the feel of his breath on her flesh. It was just adding to the feel of the images in her head.

"You have to wake up. Please, Phillipe. Wake up for me."

The hand on her thigh stopped its massage and began a caressing motion. The one on her breast began to move gently. The images were changing. It wasn't just bodies now. She could see them both clearly. See them touching. Kissing. Feeling. She could hear him almost calling out her name in her head. She couldn't draw in enough air.

"What's wrong Cella?" he was asking against her neck. His lips on her skin. She was desperate now. Her body was on fire and her stomach felt like something was living in it.

"You have to stop touching me." She was pleading now. Unable to move for fear of what would happen. He was still pressed against her, and as long as his skin met hers, she couldn't get his images out of her mind. She was going to go insane. "Please. Your mind. Your images are blinding me. You have to wake up and stop touching me."

He was awake then. She could feel his body jerk to life. Feel his sudden understanding of where he was. Where she was. What position they were both in. She could feel his mind change to confusion. See the images lessen as he fought to quell them. As if they were demons fighting for a release.

BloodStone: Ice  (Book 1)(Completed)Where stories live. Discover now