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Dreams and Dragons

Novel By: MahVash
Fantasy



This story has it all, Vampires, Dragons, Faerie Queens, and magic. Lisbeth has been visited in her dreams by the vampire Aidan Ollpheist. Living for years in the arms of her dream lover. Is he real? Is he just a figment of her imagination? Follow her story with Gideon Talbot, who after a brief encounter with the lovely Lisbeth,becomes obsessed with a woman who could move him with just a look. Gideon learns her story after he finds her lost journal. Her words drawing him deeper into her dreams and nightmares. View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

Submitted:Nov 29, 2012    Reads: 325    Comments: 0    Likes: 4   


Chapter Three -

Gideon sat back in his chair running his fingers thru his thick wild blonde hair. "Is this even possible?" he asked himself. He remembered the tales he had once been told when he was first turned of the ability to use fey magic to cross into the dreams of humans, but he thought the stories just myth. Or was she just as she stated, a young girl with an over imaginative mind fed by vampire movies full of Hollywood effects making them seem so real. He considered her eyes, the sensation they belonged to a very old soul and not the young woman her body portrayed. He turned back to the journal infront of him, reading on...

"We continued this way several years until I was thirteen. I became consumed with thoughts of him. I am not sure, as I recall the turn of events, when it was exactly that I stopped seeing him as a companion and friend. and when I began to start wanting him as a lover. I would find myself daydreaming our first kiss, his first caress.

As with any young girl who wants so much to be grown and in control, I became obsessed with the idea of true love. The difference being that the object of my fantasy was a grown man who haunted my dreams and not the cute boy down the street. At the time, televison and movies were my only companion out side of Aidan. I made the mistake of assuming that to love meant to be physical, to be intimate one HAD to have sex. As my fascination with the idea increased, so did my desire to feel his lips on me. My wanting to shudder madly under his touch. I was not ashamed of it, as I know I should have been, but I longed for him to see me the same way.

One night I took a risk and kissed him. I can still feel the shock that entered me when our lips met. He did not respond as I hoped instead he pushed me back, his eyes wide in shock. I wonder now what he was thinking, was he surprised or simply disappointed? Did he not want from me the same as I craved from him? I was so young and had no way of knowing how to rescue the situation. I felt a furry of anger and fear welling up inside my bones as he looked at me, his green eyes shadowed, not saying a word. His silence cut thru me as if he had a knife right to my gut. 'What do I do, what do I say, I need to say something, damn it ANYTHING.' I told myself.

'I'm a woman now.' I said stubbornly with a slight sigh. I raised my chin trying to hide just how humiliated I felt by his rejection, trying so hard to be the woman I claimed to be. For just a second, such a short flick of time, I registered a change in his brilliant green eyes as the shadow lifted. In that brief second I know I saw a hunger. I could see and recall with absolute clarity a look as though a battle was being waged between his reason and his heart.

'Please, I want this. I think I need it.' I begged crying, afraid he would disappear and never seek me out again.

He lowered himself to me, 'You don't know what you are asking, child'.

'Don't call me that!' I spit back at him, my anger flaring. He only laughed at me. He pulled me onto his lap, gently laying my head on his shoulder. I buried my head into that one place, my place; that space where his collarbone mets his shoulder, and the indentation is the perfect fit for my head. He quietly ran his fingers thru my hair as my tears full of fear, sadness, and regret poured openly from my eyes.

'Soon, my sweet, soon but not tonight.'

'Don't leave me, please. I am so sorry, I will behave I promise, Oh Aidan don't leave me. I think I will die without you.' I sobbed against his chest.

He pulled me back from his chest, holding my chin in his strong, hand he turned my head to his, ensuring I was looking at him, really seeing him, paying full attention.

'Listen to me, little bird, I will not leave you tonight. You made a mistake, a slight misstep, nothing more. I will not go. Do you understand me?' He stated keeping his firm grasp on my chin. I reached up to place my fingers over his, giving a slight carress, allowing that familiar surge of electric to flow from him into me. I nodded quietly never taking my eyes from his.

'Now, let us move on from this.' He quickly twisted his hand away from my face taking my wrist into his firm grip, pulling it to his mouth with a smile on his lips.

'No!' I said, pulling my hand from his grip, I jumped up from his lap, trying to move from his grasp before he had the chance to react to my defiance. 'I don't want to feed you from my wrists any longer.'

His look of shock quickly turned into a quiet smile. Asmile that registered in his brilliant green eyes more then on his face.

'And what would you recommend my little bird?' he inquired.

Surprised I spun around to find him standing behind me, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.

I gulped and tried to stop my body from shaking, quiet inward thoughts to give me courage to approach him. 'If you will not have me as a woman I refuse to be treated as a child,' I was testing his patience and I knew it, but I would have it no other way. Thank God, but he smiled. He reached out his hand and brushed a wayward curl from my face. 'A woman, uh?' He quipped.

'Yes,' I responded nustling my check to his palm, closing my eyes and reaching up to hold the wrist in place, silently praying the moment would last forever. In that touch, that tender moment I know I felt his soul. I looked at him thru my lashes and in his eyes I could see that he had waited for this night.

I trembled as he moved my hair from my shoulder. Only in this moment in which I was to receive what I had begged for, did it occur to me to wonder how this would feel, would there be pain? And then I realized I simply did not care. I could feel his hunger. It flowed from him and into me an ache that would grip you from the deep inside your body, knawing, clawing, trying to escape. When he first began to visit me I know he would use so much of his strength to keep the sensation from overwhelming my little body and mind, but overtime I had learned to deal with this pain, giving him the chance to conserve his energy, allowing the dreams to be more detailed and to last longer. I may have managed to live with his pain as my own and give appearances that I was content, but his hunger had long ago become my compass, guiding my actions.

Now his need was vibrating in sheets of anguish into my body. I opened to him, gracefully arching my neck when he placed his hand behind my neck at the base of my skull, placing the other on my jaw pulling it up to the side for access. I relaxed and inhaled while I waited for his next move, knowing that the relief he would find from his hunger would be my salvation.

His lips caressed my check, leaving a trail of soft and tender kisses. It was the first time I felt aroused. I was so confused at the wetness growing between my legs. His kisses stopped and held as he increased the pressure on my jaw, 'Are you sure you are ready for this, my sweet?' He asked, his mouth barley hovering over my skin, raising the hairs.

'Yes' I whispered, 'your hunger is driving me mad, please let me feed you.'

I heard more then felt his fangs extract and I tensed. I could feel his smile against my pulsing neck. And then he entered me. The pain I had feared did not come, only a wave of pure pleasure.

I now realize I was indeed too young for what I had asked, I had no way of understanding what effect he had on my body, my desires. It seemed as if I were born to be his, my instincts screaming at me to follow thru on things that I should never have known to do. That moment, that first night, as I took him so intimately into my body, I remember that wave crushing me and pulling me under into a lust, fulfilling a need I was not aware my body required. I remember, on that first night, relying on nothing more pure instinct, I knew to incline my neck to just the right position, causing his fangs to push further into my neck, hitting perfectly on a pressure point that caused my whole body to sail off into oblivion. I remember he quivered as I relaxed and I allowed the feeling of his pleasure to fed my soul; just as my blood nourished his body.

A few days after this dream the first mark appeared on my neck. The mark could be explained away as a unnoticed birth mark or dirt, or who knows, but I knew in my heart that this was only one of many signs that I was not dreaming; but in fact living another life while the world slept. I just prayed night after night, 'When, dear God, would he appear to me in a form I could feel and touch?'

Gideon pulled away from the writing to find him self aroused by the tale and starving. He never considered the idea of such a symbiotic relationship with a human. The idea that she was feeling the hunger as if it was her own and the act of feeding becoming her release as much as his, was so enticing. He had used women for feeding, he fed from every part of the body. He drank from women while fucking them senseless just as often as he has fed while slowly and tenderly bringing himself and his partner to climax. But never, never had he fed from a human, man or woman, who craved for and then reacted to the feeding with such need and desire. In all his years he had never found a partner who not only pleaded for his bite, but rejoiced in it.

He drew in a deep breath, the mental picture of this girl begging for the permission to fed, to relieve his pain, to sustain her dream lover, her Aidan, was simply too much to bare. He left his desk to find his specially reserved bottle of scotch, hoping the heat would abate his own growing needs. He should put the damn journal down, go out and find someone to burry himself in to find his own release. Spellbound, he simply could not pull away, he needed to read more.





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