Welcome to Greenvale
Laurel has fled to the sleepy village of Greenvale after discovering her fiance's infidelity. However, ever since her arrival she has found herself plagued by strangely intense dreams of a man who seems to know her body like no other and who's gaze seems to pierce her very soul.
'Ayris'
Laurel soon realises that Greenvale isn't all it appears and that maybe she was destined to find this place
A gasp escaped my lips as he gently brushed his hand across my jaw, his calloused hands savouring the sensation as I shivered beneath him. I followed his eyes as he lowered his gaze as his hand grazed my knee, carefully stroking upwards, lifting the hem of my dress. I trembled and silently urged him to keep going, my body responding eagerly to his touch. His body looked as though it had been sculpted by an ancient master, the sinew of his muscular torso undulating as he slid lower, his face resting above my skirt, his hand continuing to wander up and between my thighs. My breath hitched and I could feel my core aching, pulsing desperately, begging him to touch me where I so desperately needed him to. A smirk played upon the corners of his mouth, knowing how his touch was affecting me seemed to amuse him. I could have sworn I saw a sparkle or swirl in those icy blue irises of his as he held my gaze, his hand deftly sweeping upwards and touching upon the thin fabric of my underwear. I groaned and my back arched, the featherlike touch of his fingertip tracing me, before sliding aside the fabric and exposing my most intimate place to him. The cool air against the previously covered flesh made me tingle, swiftly replaced by the heat of his breath and his head lowered, his eyes mesmerised by what he’d uncovered. As I edged closer to his face, rocking my pelvis, begging him to taste me, he let out a cry, a bizarre noise that sounded almost electrical.
I rolled over and fumbled with my phone, shutting off my morning alarm and cursed. ‘No I’m even being cock blocked in my dreams’ I mumbled to myself, as I sat up and flicked through my phone, trying to distract myself from the throbbing between my legs and the wetness of my underwear. This was the third filthy dream in a week and a clear sign from my subconscious that I needed to either get laid sometime soon or get spayed. I wasn’t sure what had come over me since I’d arrived at Greenvale, but all these crazy dreams had me feeling like a horny teenager again. Maybe it was my head telling me I was finally ready move on from Mark and open myself up to someone new.
Pfft, as if, I had no intention of making a dick of myself again.
Besides, I’d taken the break in Greenvale to clear my head and delve into some family history to take my mind away from all that, not to run into the arms of another heartless bastard who would propose to me; whilst he was sneaking off on weekends away with another woman. The thought of it made my stomach twist as I recalled finding the bill for the hotel and realising that his constant work trips didn’t involve work at all, but rather his co-worker; some evil red head who went by the name of ‘Lindsey’, who I’d met at his work’s Christmas party and had instantly disliked, particularly the smug glances she had given me the whole night. I knew now why she’d been so smug; she’d been fucking my fiancé for months and I hadn’t so much as been able to kiss or cuddle him without feeling persistently rejected. Mark had said he’d wanted to wait until we were married before we slept together, saying if we saved ourselves for the next few months, it would make it special. I’d found it a bit odd at first, but he’d won me over and it seemed sort of romantic, like we were in an old Hollywood romance film, finally coming together after we’d said our vows and became husband and wife.
What a load of shit I thought to myself, in hindsight I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid, he didn’t want sex from me because he was getting it from Lindsey, and suddenly all the rejection, lack of interest and gaslighting behaviour finally made sense. I hopped out of bed and attempted to shake the thoughts from my mind as I hopped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I felt more grubby thinking about Mark, than I did about the sex dream I’d had and results of it which were evident all over my underwear.
Lacing up my boots I headed downstairs to be greeted by heavenly smells emanating from Mrs McBurney’s kitchen. I’d been staying at the McBurney’s Bed and Breakfast for the past 7 days and they’d been so welcoming and kind that I’d begun to think of Mrs McBurney almost as an Aunt.
‘Morning dearie’! she cooed as her head peeped round the large oak doorframe, ‘Can I tempt you with some sausage and eggs before you set off? You’ll need to keep your strength up if you’re going wandering again’. I nodded and took a seat in the modest dining area just offset from the oak country style kitchen, and moments later a steaming plate piled high with local sausages and scrambled egg was placed in front of me, swiftly followed by a full toast rack and a piping hot cup of tea. ‘Thank you, Margaret’ I smiled as she adjusted her apron. A warm and welcoming smile spread across her face as she told me to eat up. ‘And if you insist on going wandering along those woods you stick to the trail and take your map, young lady, I don’t like the idea of you around those hillsides by yourself, a young bonny thing like you, why you could be snapped up by strange fellow before anyone realised you were missing’ she admonished as she filled the kettle.
If he looked anything like the man who I’d been dreaming about all week, I’d probably let him I thought to myself, before my cheeks flushed, thinking about how intense and real the whole experience had seemed. Fuck, what the hell was wrong with me, lately? I needed to get my mind out of the gutter. ‘I have my map, my phone and I plan on sticking to the nature trail the whole time’ I said, ‘But I’m not planning on wandering far today, Mrs M, I’m heading down to speak with Mr Peterson this morning’. I’d contacted Edward Peterson the day after I arrived in Greenvale, he was the local font of knowledge pertaining to the history and ancestry of this small, ancient town and he’d promised to meet with me at his workplace, the town library; to help me do some further research on the history of the place and its connection to my own family history. ‘Here’ Margaret placed a Tupperware box on the table beside me, forcing me back to reality, I peeped through the clear plastic and my eyes lit up at the sight of some of her hand made cheese scones ‘You make sure to eat them and take care of yourself, and whatever you do, don’t be wandering those hills when it gets dark, its not safe’ I chuckled at her overprotectiveness of me and shovelled another helping of scrambled egg into my mouth. ‘You know the stories of what’s wandering up there, don’t you?’ Margaret continued, eyeing me with a rather serious-looking face. I swallowed my mouthful of food and smirked. Was she being serious? The stories of monsters roaming the forests along the hillsides at night had been the main source of sporadic influxes of tourists that kept the town economy afloat over the years but was obviously complete and total nonsense. I hardly felt like some ‘Beast of Bodmin’ type creature was going to devour me.
I plucked the map from my pocket and began unfolding it as I continued along the nature trail that wove its way through the Greenvale hills. My meeting with Edward Peterson had yielded some surprising answers regarding my family ancestry; but had also raised further questions. The meeting and subsequent exploring of the town had left me exhausted, so I decided against hiking the trails today, as it was getting dark and cold. After eating a steaming bowl of vegetable stew and some homemade bread; that Mrs M had so graciously handed to me when I arrived back, I went straight to bed and fell asleep pretty much as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I was met with piercing blue eyes as I rolled on my back and turned to face the owner of the hand that had begun caressing my hip. A smirk played upon his lips as he continued his actions, not a word spoken between us. I tried to utter something, but I couldn’t find the words I wanted to say, as my senses became overwhelmed by the tingling of my skin against his hand and the pulsing that overtook my core, as his hand swept from my hip to my abdomen; gently circling and working its way down to my underwear. He leaned down and his mouth claimed me, it was strong and passionate, and I felt powerless to protest.
not that I wanted to.
