Wicked Love | ✓ (#featured)

⁷ | o b l i v i o n

(n.) the state of being unaware of what is happening around you.

Raneem's knees buckled as she pressed her fist between her teeth to stifle her cry. The point between her thighs throbbed like wildfire and felt as if they were being fondled, caressed and played with. Every sensation that she felt down below coursed throughout her body, making even her fingertips sensitive. Her breathing came in rasps and she moaned despite the control she tried to wield. She bit her knuckles, not feeling any pain as all the feelings concentrated on only the pleasure between her legs. Gods, it was too much.

As mysteriously as it happened, the pleasurable sensations vanished, leaving her quivering on the floor. The hand she had been biting was bruised anew and the other had been holding onto one of the crystalline figurines that decorated Zane's room.

She concentrated on steadying her breathing. Steadying herself. She knew her dress was stained with her wetness and Zane would notice. Again. The first time it happened three days ago, he had stared at the wet spot and then at her face with his lips curled in a grin and his eyes set like a predator. He asked her what had happened and she lied saying that she spilled water and accidentally sat on it. But she knew he knew better, though he did not say anything. Even she could smell herself and it was certainly very distinct from the smell of just water. Besides, she knew she was red from head to toe with the question.

It was happening often - the tingling sensation and the arousal that came with it - but it was not often strong. Most of the time, she could control herself and hide it. She could only thank the gods that the intense tremors did not happen when Zane was around. She did not know what excuse she could claim for that.

She tried to stand but found that she was still too weak for that. Instead, she ruminated on all of it. Zane had backed off from touching her intimately as he did on her first night at the lake. When he did touch her, it was careful, tender and often at the places where her spine would tingle in response. And only very briefly.

Perhaps his sudden tenderness was the reason why she was having dreams of him night after night. His touches were always sensual and caressing, but never intrusive or forceful like the night at the lake. Her dream Zane was different from the real one that seemed to dominate everything. Not that she preferred one over the other. In her dreams, his hands and lips nuzzled her neck, her arms, her stomach and her thighs, never going further. Her favorite had been the first night she had dreamt it when he kissed her lips so tenderly, she was surprised her brain could come up with a tender elf after his forcefulness at the lake. Always her sleep was peaceful, and always, she looked forward to the dream and the glorious feeling she would have waking up.

She even started to worry for him when one night, he screamed cursing. His hands were grabbing fistfuls of the bed sheet and he was breathing as if he was in pain. He dismissed it as a nightmare when she asked him what woke him but she didn't believe him. His face was laced with pain, but he would not tell her anything. That was the night she dreamed him kissing her just above her hidden treasure. Part of her cursed him for disrupting that dream. Especially since it did not continue when she went back to sleep.