Alpha Dom and His Human Surrogate
Chapter 59
Chapter 59. Dream Date
Ella
In the end my exhaustion saves me. I hadn’t realized how tiring the evening was, but the added pressure of putting on our show for the reporters must have taken more of a toll than I expected. I fall asleep almost as soon as my head hits the pillow, but as fate would have it. I can’t even escape Sinclair in my dreams tonight.
I know I’m dreaming from the very start. I’m still in Sinclair’s bed, but it’s no longer in his opulent mansion. It’s in the middle of a starlit forest, with nothing but trees and wilderness surrounding it as far as
more evidence the eye can see. I’m wearing a simple white negligee that this isn’t real. I don’t own anything like it. A cool breeze flutters over my skin, carrying the scent of evergreens and moss, rich amber and… Sinclair. I would know that scent anywhere, even though I can’t
see him yet.
He appears slowly, moving towards me through the darkness, his green eyes glowing through the trees. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of simply black slacks, and for the first time I don’t feel shy about appreciating his gorgeous physique. I’ve always averted my eyes when he undresses in front of me, not that this prevents me from feeling his muscles or the huge member between his legs when our bodies are pressed up against each other in bed. But now I look my fill, raking my eyes over the rugged planes of his face and the contours of his chest.
His tall frame is padded with muscles most human men can only dream
–
about some of which I didn’t even know existed.
“Hello beautiful.” Sinclair greets me huskily, prowling closer with
every ragged breath I take, his naked torso gleaming in the moonlight “Didn’t you get enough of me when you were awake?”
“How could I?” I pout, feeling completely face to express my sullen mood. “You teased me all night long and I haven’t had any relief. It’s
torture!”
“It’s not the same.” I insist, looking over at him from beneath my
lashes.
“Why not?” Sinclair asks, brushing the hair back from my face.
“You don’t know the effect you have on me “I confess, pressing a bit closer. I might be asleep but my breasts are still aching, and my sex is swollen and dripping with need. It’s rather freeing to be able to rub myself against Sinclair without fear of embarrassment or worries over opening a can of worms.
of nerves at the apex of my things is right up against his hardness. “Even the smallest touch sets me on fire.” I complain. “You holding my hand feels more intimate and arousing than another man kissing me.” “And when I do kiss you?” Sinclair prompts, encouraging me to move against him, guiding my hips to
course it is.” I whine, so frustrated that I feel like I might cry, “Can’t you feel how hard I am for you, Ella?” Sinclair inquires gruffly, nuzzling my skin, grazing his fangs over the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. “How hard I always am for you?” I’m shivering with need now, especially as his words combine with the feeling of his steely length against my cl it. “Well that doesn’t mean anything. You’re in bed with a half naked woman, it would happen with anyone.”
Sinclair chuckles. “I think you’ve been around human men for too long, they’ve given you a very low opinion of my sex.” He raises his head at last, taking a break from laving the soft spot behind my ear. “Trust me, it doesn’t happen for just anyone, no matter what they’re doing or how lovely they are.”“But I’m nothing.” I insist. “I’m just a human, I don’t have the kind of
power you do.”
“You’re not nothing.” Sinclair growls, a dangerous edge in his deep voice. “And you might be human but you have a power all your own. Don’t you know how difficult it is for me to be near you without
touching you? How impossible it is to hold myself back when you’re in my arms, when all my instincts are driving me to make you mine? Ever since we met I’ve felt like an addict, and you’re my only fix.”
“That’s probably just the baby.” I murmur, sighing when the fabric of my teddy slides off my breast, finally allowing one taut nipple to meet Sinclair’s bare chest, teased and tickled by the coa rse black hair sc att ered over his pecs. “It has to be. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” Sinclair answers, his lips mere inches from mine. “And you give me too much and too little all at
once.
“What do you mean?” I wonder aloud, not really wanting him to
answer. I just want him to kiss me, to strip off my negligee and finally relieve the terrible ache which seems to have taken over my very soul. I think Sinclair can sense my growing desperation, but for some reason. he isn’t giving me what I need. He’s holding himself back, taking away
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