Bathed in moonlight, Micah breathed in the fresh air, relishing the light of the stars shimmering overhead. He was no longer underground. A dream? But it felt so real.
Soft lips laid kisses to the skin of his neck. With his body pressed against the hard, unyielding surface of the alleyway behind him, Micah melted into the caress of those lips. It took all of his strength not to cry out in pleasure at the sensation of a wet tongue trailing over his ear, of teeth nibbling at the lobe. His body responded to the man draped over him, to the hands that roved his body, opening the front of his shirt, spilling over the skin of his chest.
Soft blond hair fell in his partner’s face, and as Micah looked down, he recognized that sharp jawline, that broad, masculine nose, the high cheekbones. Those startling blue eyes. Eden lifted his head and kissed Micah deeply, tongue curling into Micah’s mouth.
Micah’s eyes fluttered closed as he allowed himself to relax into that kiss. It was sensuous, rapturous, being Eden’s plaything, being enveloped and consumed and utterly debauched.
A sudden stab of fear. They were out in the open. They were on the surface. How had they gotten here? Anyone could see them. But then he remembered. This was a dream. And as Eden’s lips pulled away and their gazes once again locked, Micah realized. This man was not Eden.
They were so similar, so hauntingly similar, like images reflected in a pond. Subtly off but so close they could almost be considered identical. But this man’s chest was slimmer, his face a little wider. His lips, too, were fuller. And a soft fuzz of hair decorated his chin. Micah wondered how he hadn’t noticed before.
“I love you,” the man who was not Eden crooned. He leaned in and kissed Micah again, slower this time, allowing his hands to tug at the long strands of silver hair that fell down Micah’s shoulders. “I love you, I love you.” The man’s emotions buzzed through him, so sharp and so pure. Love and lust twisting and mingling together into a potent concoction that Micah could almost taste. It was radiant. Pure bliss.
Micah heard himself utter the words in return, but the voice that came from his mouth, though strikingly familiar, was not his own. “I love you. You’re everything to me.”
The man’s arms slipped up Micah’s back, lifting him from his feet and pressing his body further against the wall for balance. Micah allowed his legs to twine themselves around the man’s buttocks, writhing against him, feeling the hard lengths of their cocks pressing together through their pants. The man breathed heavily, his open mouth gasping into Micah’s.
“Axel,” he purred, and Micah gasped, stunned out of his haze. Panic consumed him. He cringed in horror and revulsion.
In a flash, the dreamscape seemed to grow dark and vanish, forcing Micah awake, sweating, panting and desperately hard.
Count down from five, Micah. Five. He sat up quickly, his hands shaking, his vision slowly acclimating to the darkness. Axel, he had heard. Was the man in his dream, the man through whose eyes he had been seeing, Axel Tovar?
Four. The dream had felt so real. Like a memory.
Three. But it couldn’t be. Not in the world Tovar had created. Not when men were forbidden from loving other men.
Two. So why had he dreamed of Tovar? Why now?
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