She thought it was a dream.
The drag of his fingers between her thighs, slow and possessive, spreading her open. The way her body reacted instantly—wet, throbbing, hungry—like it had been waiting for him all night. She whimpered, still half-asleep, pressing into the touch without even realizing it.
Then came his voice, dark and undeniable:
“Open wider.”
Her eyes fluttered, her legs falling apart at the command. The heat of his mouth was on her before she could breathe, tongue pushing into her slick folds, lips wrapping around her clit. The shock of it ripped a moan out of her chest—too sharp for a dream, too wet, too consuming.
Her hand flew to the back of his head, pressing him closer, nails grazing his skin as he devoured her, growling low into her cunt, sucking until her hips jerked uncontrollably against his face.
When she gasped awake, he was still there—real, solid, kneeling between her legs, chin dripping with her arousal.
“Sir—” she tried, but the word broke on another cry as he shoved two fingers deep inside her, curling them until she was clenching, shaking, already begging.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice muffled against her swollen clit as he sucked harder. “So wet for me in your sleep. You were mine even before you opened your eyes.”
She came hard on his tongue, sobbing through it, her body convulsing, thighs trembling against his shoulders. She barely had time to catch her breath before he was on her, cock thick and relentless, stretching her open as he thrust deep in one savage push.
Her scream was swallowed by his kiss, his hand locking around her throat as he fucked her—deep, brutal, every stroke claiming her. Slick heat spilled down her thighs, his hips slamming hers into the mattress until she was nothing but raw sound and submission.
“You dream of me using you like this,” he growled against her ear, pounding harder, faster, until the bed shook beneath them. “And now you’ll wake up knowing it’s real.”
Her nails raked down his back, her body breaking apart around him as another orgasm tore through her, wetter, louder, messy. He pinned her wrists above her head, his chest crushing hers, and kept driving into her until his own release spilled hot and thick inside her, filling her to the brim.
Only when she was trembling, wrecked, covered in sweat and cum, did he finally slow, his lips brushing her temple.
“Next time,” he whispered, still buried deep inside her, “I won’t let you fall asleep first.”
Copyright © Wynter Rayne 2025. All Rights Reserved.
The Secrets of Wynter Rayne 