1. King of the Winter Forest
He slid his finger over my pale skin, tiny goosebumps erupting all over my body as he kept moving south.
My wet folds throbbed as I moaned a breathless yes. I could feel him shift between my legs as I heaved from all the pleasure I felt.
“Open wide,” he groaned, sending a delicious shiver down my back.
I did as he asked and opened wide enough for him to stare and devour me with his lustful gaze.
A smirk played on his lips as he lowered his face and, with his tongue, flicked my throbbing core.
I arched my back. I needed more. Not just his tongue, him completely inside me. As if he could read my mind, he slid a finger into my wet folds. With slowness he eased his fingers—one, then two, three. My walls clenched deliciously around his fingers as he continued moving in a circular motion.
“More,” I begged breathless.
“Patience, Amica mea,” he said in a husky voice.
His fingers continued their slow torture. I couldn’t wait. I needed to feel his body against mine and his throbbing member stretching me.
“Please,” I begged again.
He chuckled faintly, pulling his finger out of my core. I groaned as I lost the only connection to him I had.
“Don’t scowl, my love,” he whispered, making my eyes widen as he sat between my legs and lifted his hand to show me his fingers that were covered with the reminisce of my pleasure.
I blushed as I watched him wiggle them. It was embarrassing, yet I found it sexy. I watched in fascination as he licked each of them. His eyes never left mine.
“I can’t wait to devour you completely,” he smirked, sucking on his index finger.
I gulped, listening to his voice, which sounded like a small mantra as my body waited in expectation. I kept my eyes on him, my gaze focused on his body until he hovered entirely over me. I gazed into his icy blue eyes, the ones that hid pain and sadness. There was something I couldn’t discern as I looked at him.
“Vivianne,” he whispered. My eyes shifted to his face where I smiled warmly. “Oh, Vivianne.”
He lowered his face; he was so close our breaths were one.
My hand glided over his muscular arms, a smile on my face as he lowered his body, pressing it against mine, finally.
Excited, I moved my head to the side so that I could kiss him, but as I got closer, he suddenly looked away. I frowned.
“I’m sorry, Vivianne,” he whispered close to my ear, making me confused. Then I felt it, the stabbing pain in my chest.
“Fucking move it, piggy,” my co-worker hissed, pushing me to the side and making me topple on my shoes.
The files I had in my arms were scattered all over the carpet, making me utter a curse. I heard the chuckles of the rest of my co-workers behind me, leaving me with no choice but to clench my teeth and watch them go.
“Here, let me help you,” someone said from behind. My eyes shifted to the fancy brunette behind me. Her perfect makeup made me cringe in horror.
Couldn’t she wear less makeup? What was she trying to do, get a job at hooters?
“I’m fine, thank you,” I refused her offer the nicest way possible.
I knew her type. She would offer a hand and then push you down again or throw the papers in your face.
I wouldn’t fall for that.
Ignoring her, I picked each paper up. I made sure I left none and walked away. Her brown eyes lingered on me as I walked back to my desk in silence.
As I set the messy pile down, I sighed.
“She did it again?” my desk mate and only friend in the office asked.
“Yes, you know how Ivonne is,” I mumbled in annoyance.
“Well, it’s better just to ignore those kinds of people, Vivianne,” she smiled. I glanced her way and smiled dejectedly.
“Thanks, Phoebe,” I said and looked at the files. “I have to fix this now.”
“Oh no, it’s time to take our leave. So leave that and let’s roll,” Phoebe replied, standing with her things.
I looked over the stack of papers and at my friend. With a sigh, I nodded back at her and grabbed my belongings.
We both stood in the hallway, waiting for the elevator. While Phoebe bid goodbyes to several co-workers, I scrolled through some news on my phone.
Phoebe mumbled something, but I got distracted checking my notifications. A small crease formed on my forehead as I read the messages from my inbox.
What was this?
Somehow, I had twenty-four notifications. All the people said the new chapter was outstanding, but I have no recollection of any new chapter.
“Hey Vivianne, let’s go!” Phoebe called as I snapped my head. She was standing in the elevator, holding the door for me. “Is something the matter? You look pale,” she asked.
“It’s nothing, just some strange notifications,” I answered while giving her a tight smile.
“Oh, speaking of notifications, I received the new chapter of your book,” Phoebe beamed excitedly. My head jerked to the side.
“What…” I asked, stunned, “notification?”
“Uh, you uploaded a new chapter last night,” Phoebe pointed out at her phone.
My eyes widened in shock, and I flashed them back at my phone. Phoebe was among the few, especially in the office, who knew I had a double life. I was the best-selling author and famous writer under the pen name Kiara. Once out of my suit, I would dedicate my nights to writing about fantasy worlds.
“Something happened, right?” Phoebe asked as we stepped out of the elevator.
“I-I don’t know,” I panicked. “I don’t remember uploading a chapter.”
“What do you mean?” Phoebe asked, confused. I stopped walking and worriedly looked at her. “Didn’t you upload it, Vivianne?” Her question threw me off.
“Last night…” I trailed, blushing hard. All I could recall from the previous night was that ardent dream I had.
My legs quickly tightened together while memories of it replayed in my mind.
“Vivianne?” she called. I could hear the concerned tone in her voice.
“I don’t know, Phoebe, I don’t remember,” I honestly answered. Phoebe looked worried.
Unable to stand it any longer, I pulled my car keys out and got into my car. I mumbled a quick apology and drove away.
My hands grip the car wheel. There had to be a mistake.
I glanced at my phone and then back at the road. My mind kept replaying the dream. It was the first time I had a dream so vividly that it felt like I was there. But what’s stranger is the man in my dreams. It’s as if I knew him from somewhere. The familiarity laid between us was one of a kind.
I shook away the alien feeling that was creeping into my head. I needed to get back home and check what I did last night. Thankfully, my house was ten minutes away from my workplace, so it was close by. If only the traffic weren’t bothersome.
I peeked at the clock. It’s a quarter to five.
“Fucking move it!” I groaned while slamming my hand on the horn.
Once everyone fled the road, I made my turn and headed straight to my building.
I live in one of the most expensive condos in New York, alone. Just a few friends knew I was a rich bitch. Not that I like to brag about it, but I don’t show it. I’m the plainest woman, with nothing but average.
“Heavens,” I mumbled while pulling on my spot. I grabbed my stuff and dashed out of the car.
My thumb pressed the red button for the underground elevator. I took a couple of deep breaths, and finally, hearing the small bell ping, I stepped into the silent and cold elevator.
Tapping the code for my floor, I closed my eyes. I tried to concentrate on something, but the suffocating close space and the music in the playground weren’t helping. It wasn’t pleasant.
My eyes opened in frustration, looking at the numbers. I was still two floors down.
The condo I own was on the eighth floor. It was the only private condo with no neighbors. The entire floor was mine, and without my password, no one could access it.
Finally, the elevator reached my floor, and I desperately dashed out. I looked around and started taking my things off. I threw my shoes at the entrance, my blazer on the floor, my purse slammed against the glass table, and my glasses flew as I took a misstep and fell to the ground.
“Fuck!” I groaned as my face hit the black marble. I am definitely getting bruises from that.
I stood up, ignoring the pain and headed to my room. The white door slammed against the white walls. Rushing, I took a seat on my chair and turned my laptop on. My fingers nervously drummed against the table as I patiently waited for the damn thing to turn on.
Finally, with a single click on the mouse, the file for my story opened, and the title of my books greeted me; King of the Winter Forest.