Dreams of Desire By Jeanine Berry
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Dreams of Desire By Jeanine Berry
The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Dreams of Desire Copyright © 2004 Jeanine Berry ISBN: 1-55410-185-9 Cover art and design by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2004 Look for us online at: www.zumayapublications.com www.Extasybooks.com
Tarot Card: The Eight of Cups Theme of the eight of cups: Waking up and realizing you’ve been asleep in your own life, living a dream that no longer satisfies.
Jeanine Berry
Dreams of Desire “You beasts! Let me go!” Calie cas Chabos, queen of Sarmona, screamed with helpless rage as two brawny palace guards threw her down on the soft feather bed and bound her wrists to the bed posts. She knew it was useless to fight, but she bucked her hips anyway as the guards grabbed her calves and yanked her legs apart. The soft leather cuffs around her ankles tightened as the men hooked them into the polished brass loops at the bottom of the bed. “You’re ready.” The thin guard with the jagged scar across his cheek smirked down at her, letting his gaze linger a long moment on her naked body, her legs spread wide to reveal her intimate parts. Lust flared in his eyes but he turned and marched from the room, accompanied by his companion. The guards had done their duty and prepared her for the amorous attentions of her captor, Barbose lor de Domatan, the ninth king of the dread Isle of Domatus. As the door closed behind them, Calie lifted her head as far as she could off the pillow. The pale, pinktipped globes of her breasts trembled as she tried to survey the sumptuously appointed bedchamber. It was a room made for pleasure. Silken sheets caressed her bare flesh. The wood paneled walls glowed in the 1
Dreams of Desire soft candlelight. A fire burned in the marble fireplace along one wall, but the doors to the terrace outside were open, letting in the cool night breeze. Shivering, Calie sank back into the bed. Despair filled her heart, and the luxury that surrounded her only mocked her. She was a prisoner. Why had she ridden out of her palace without her guard? She’d known the danger. Her kingdom was unstable, and her capital teemed with spies. In a moment of foolhardy bravado, she’d risked her future for a brief night of freedom—and now she was a captive, at the mercy of her sworn enemy. A slight sound to the right of the bed caught her attention. One of Barbose’s servant women had entered the room while she’d been lost in thought and stood there, silently watching her. Calie’s eyes widened as she saw the silver bowl the servant held. She knew what it contained—jermeni juice, a potent aphrodisiac. As Calie’s struggles subsided, the woman approached and dipped a small brush into the bowl. Then she applied the tip of the brush to Calie’s nipples. Calie took in a hissing breath as the powerful drug sank into her flesh, sensitizing it. The rosy tips stiffened into taut, aroused peaks and her body quivered. Now, even the merest whisper of air against her nipples would send waves of intense, pleasurable heat shooting from her breasts down into her loins. She bit her lips and squirmed, her lower parts growing wet with anticipation. An empty ache began between her legs as the drug roused her to yearning passion. Against her will, she found herself 2
Jeanine Berry longing for the touch of Barbose’s lips on her nipples, for the rough caress of his tongue across the tender tips. Only that would relieve the mounting tension in her body. She squirmed against her bonds in humiliation, and her cheeks grew hot as she imagined his sensual lips sucking at her. She trembled on the verge of explosion, yearning for the powerful release of orgasm, and glanced toward the door. Soon it would open and her captor would appear. The pink tips of her breasts tightened into little towers, poking up in abandoned invitation. The servant woman smiled with gloating triumph at Calie’s reaction and dipped her brush once more into the liquid. “No,” Calie begged. “Please, no.” She strained to lift her buttocks off the bed, to close her legs against this invasion, but the bindings at her ankles kept her legs spread wide. The woman’s eyes gleamed as she reached between Calie’s thighs. Rough fingers opened the lips of her tender intimate parts and dabbed the burning liquid on her already moist flesh. “Ah!” Calie’s back arched but the bonds held her to the bed. Waves of fire exploded out of her cunt and rolled through her as the touch of the fiery liquid on her flesh sent her soaring into the convulsions of orgasm. Her nipples stabbed at the empty air as she shuddered again and again, but the explosions brought no release. Her saturated flesh cried out for more. She needed a man, needed the thick length of his phallus inside her, plunging into her depths. Soon, she knew, he would come. 3
Dreams of Desire She wet her lips with her tongue. Her breathing grew ragged as the door at the far end of the room opened and Barbose entered. Turning her head toward him, she watched as he approached. As always, his strong, athletic body moved with a supple grace surprising in a man so big. He had a massive barrel of a chest, thick, muscular arms, and long legs with powerful thighs. But it was his face that drew her attention. The man was her tormentor, her demon lover, but he had the face of a god, with clean-cut features, a straight nose, and full, sensuous lips. His moonlight silver hair hung unbound around his shoulders and his sapphire eyes examined her naked body with smoldering desire. Tonight, he wore only a loose silk robe of deep purple, embroidered in gold. Unfastened, it hung open to reveal the silver mat upon his chest, his muscular thighs and the weapon he used to teach her submission—his massive phallus, already fully erect and ready for her. She could see a drop of his love juice quivering on the tip. “Has she been prepared?” he asked the servant. His voice, sensual and deep, flowed over Calie’s body like a warm wave, setting her nipples throbbing to its rhythm. She licked her lips yet again and eyed his bold erection. Why had the gods cursed her with an enemy who had the tender voice of a poet and the thick phallus of a young bull? “She has, my lord.” “Good.” Barbose waved his hand in dismissal and the servant bowed and retreated from the room. The door clicked shut behind her, blocking off the 4
Jeanine Berry noise from Barbose’s palace. They were alone, utterly alone, with no sound except the hammering of Calie’s heart. Surely he could hear it beat in the silence of the room. Her cheeks flamed hotter even as she ached for him. The jermeni burned into her private flesh, heating it. She could feel her inner tissues swelling as if they scented the closeness of his phallus. The muscles of her thighs clenched. She smelled the musky scent of her arousal and knew he did as well. Gods, she wanted him. The first thrust of that hard shaft within her would shatter her body into a thousand orgasmic fragments. Since he had kidnapped her, Barbose had claimed her nightly, ravishing her again and again, bringing her to orgasm each time. Looking up into his face, she saw him smile. “You want it, don’t you?” he murmured, gesturing to that part of him that jutted out toward her as if straining toward a goal. Oh, how she wanted to deny it. Her lips moved but she couldn’t speak. Her desire throbbed in every particle of her flesh, showed in her rigid nipples and dew-drenched opening, and most of all, she knew, in her face. She could see her yearning for him mirrored in the huge, dark pupils of his eyes. For the hundredth time, she wondered if she’d wanted to be captured that day. Her advisors had warned her that Barbose wanted her and would stop at nothing to claim her. But then…she’d wanted him, too…ever since that day they’d met under a flag of truce to try and negotiate a treaty between their realms. That negotiation had failed, thanks to the 5
Dreams of Desire demands of her advisors, but she’d never forgotten the erotic promise in his brilliant blue eyes. Something had passed between them that day, something unspoken but deep and real nevertheless. Although she’d sat cool and proud in her regal robes, she’d felt stripped naked by his gaze. He’d seen beneath the royal veneer to a hot-blooded woman who yearned to know the darker side of love. She knew it now. Barbose regarded her for a long moment of silence. When he spoke again, his voice rumbled with amusement. “Your prime minister is threatening war if I don’t return you at once, my queen.” His fingers brushed lightly against the swell of her left breast, sending a helpless shudder through her. Calie fought to speak through a dry throat. “My people will gladly fight to set me free from your barbarous captivity.” “They will fail. My armies are stronger.” Barbose gave a small shrug and the robe slipped from his shoulders and pooled at his feet. Calie wanted to look away but her rebellious eyes would not obey. Instead, she drank in the sight of his nude body. Against her will, her gaze focused on his shaft, measuring its length. Her stomach tightened as more moisture flooded her lower parts. She closed her eyes, ashamed of the wanton desire she was sure he could see shining in her gaze. Tears of frustration and embarrassment leaked out from under her lashes. “If you loved me as you say, you would not do this to me.” “I do love you, my queen.” He bent over her, his 6
Jeanine Berry voice gentle. His warm breath tickled her ear. “And I will set you free the moment you agree to marry me, surrender your lands to me, and become the queen of Domantus.” Calie gritted her teeth to keep her tongue from murmuring an agreement. To her utter astonishment, she’d fallen in love with the charismatic Barbose. While sparring with him nightly, she’d learned he was charming, witty, intelligent, and a fabulous lover. But she could not surrender her kingdom to him. She was a queen after all. If that meant she must submit to his desires night after night to pay the price for endangering herself, then so be it. She’d longed to experience bondage. It was only just punishment for her foolishness that she lay spread-eagled before him. “Very well,” Barbose murmured, observing her silence. “I will woo you with another night of lovemaking beyond your wildest dreams.” He leaned closer, his sapphire bright eyes full of lustful promise. The tip of his tongue slid between his lips to touch the peak of one stiff nipple… “Calie!” The shout penetrated her dream. With a start, Calie came awake and sat up in her bed. Her mother stood over her with her hands on her hips. Her gray hair fell forward in long strands around her wrinkled face. She looked as if she, too, had just been awakened. “Calie, girl, there’s a messenger here from Lord Tromas. Seems his stomach is bothering him again. Too much rich food, that’s my opinion.” “I’m sure you’re right,” Calie sighed. She threw off the covers and hurried past her mother to the chest 7
Dreams of Desire where she kept her clothes. She snatched up her sole dress and pressed it to her to hide the fact that her nipples were still taut from the dream. “He wants you at once, as usual,” her mother grumbled. “I’ll cut you off a bit of bread so you'll have something to eat at least.” “He pays well,” Calie said defensively. It was getting harder and harder to support the two of them with her healing talents. She frowned as an elusive memory brushed at the edges of her brain. Once, it almost seemed, healers had been rare in Sarmona. But that was not possible. Healers were everywhere these days. The idea that her talent had once been rare must have been a dream! Besides, it was a blessing—for the sick at least— that healers were so common. Yet their numbers meant that their services were devalued. It was hard to earn much money as a healer in Sarmona anymore. “He should pay,” her mother snapped. “He has a talented healer at his beck and call. You should ask him for more.” “I’ll try,” Calie said, donning her dress. She was glad when her mother turned and shuffled from the room. They’d had too many arguments about Lord Tromas already. Calie couldn’t blame her mother for wanting more, but Calie had other plans. She hoped to earn Tromas’s favor, then ask for something bolder than a mere gift of money. She wanted him to become the patron of a healing center for the poor who could not afford to pay even the cheap prices healers charged nowadays. He was a rich man, a good man in his own way. Why wouldn’t he agree to keep his 8
Jeanine Berry healer happy? She’d cured his headaches and his arthritis, and even these stomachaches from too much food. And her plan was a noble one. Leaving her bedroom, she clambered down the narrow steps to the ground floor of their small home. Her mother appeared from the kitchen with a hunk of bread in her hand. “I sent the messenger back to tell Lord Tromas you’re on the way. Don’t let him keep you there all day. There’s cleaning to be done and laundry too.” The two of them had begun taking in laundry from the neighbors to earn a bit of extra coin. “Yes, Mother,” Calie said, biting her tongue. She knew her mother was worried that Calie only concentrated on this one client. She didn’t know the motive behind her daughter’s actions. And, she had no idea at all that Calie was a dream master. Calie shuddered. No one knew that, fortunately. Those with the dreaming talent were required by law to enter the Temple of Remoru. But that would mean the end of her plans to start a healing hospital devoted to the poor. Munching on the bread, she set off down the narrow streets of Jabol, toward Lord Tromas’s much larger and richer townhouse, which was located in a desirable neighborhood not far from the royal palace. As she turned onto the main thoroughfare, she passed a wooden doorway, emblazoned with a bright red symbol: an eye set in the center of a flame. As always, her step faltered for a moment. Melisa cas Gypor was a powerful psychic, a true diviner of the future. Calie longed to have her cards read, to know if her dream of starting a healing center would come true—but she 9
Dreams of Desire dreaded what the answer might be. Shaking her head, she moved on. **** “So, my love, have you reconsidered?” Barbose leered down at her nude body. He held a riding crop in one hand and slowly drew the lash over her stomach. Calie shook her head. “Never. I will never wed you.” “Why not?” Amusement glittered in his eyes. “I already enjoy all the pleasures your body has to offer.” He lifted his wrist and let the lash drop against her ribs just below her breasts, the lightest of touches. The soft leather slid across her skin like silk. “Please.” She fought to hold still, knowing how he enjoyed watching her breasts quiver when she struggled. It was humiliating enough that her nipples already thrust into the air as if inviting his touch. A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. His gaze wandered down over her breasts and belly, down to her damp opening. The beast! He knew she enjoyed this game as much as he. He was prolonging it cruelly tonight, refusing to enter her until he had her wound up to a fever pitch. “Please what? If you want favors from me, you have to offer something in return.” His dark blue eyes narrowed as he drew the lash down her body and flicked it lightly again against the golden hair that curled between her legs. “This I already have whenever I please, so you cannot offer it.” He touched the tip of the crop to the swollen flesh at the 10
Jeanine Berry juncture of her thighs. She drew in a hissing breath at the touch, her hips rising as she fought her bonds. Desire pulsed through her. “Or do I need to teach you obedience to get you to surrender to my will?” He lifted the lash as he spoke and brought it down, harder this time, across one white thigh. She cried out as a vivid red welt appeared on her bare flesh. His hand stroked her other thigh. “Do not provoke me, Calie. You are a helpless captive and you haven’t yet begun to taste the sweet wine of submission.” “Will you treat your queen any better?” she gasped, staring up at the colorful ceiling high above her. Someone had painted clouds there, restful in a bedroom, no doubt, but as she watched they began to spin. Her whole body hurt with need, dizzy with desire. Gods, she was a queen in her own land, and yet she longed to suffer debasement at his hands, to know his tormenting touch, to cry out as his hard shaft plunged into her. Was it madness, or the insatiable fire of love? He bent over her, his long, moonlight bright hair falling forward until the silken ends brushed against the tips of her breasts. His body pleased her more than any man’s ever had. His sensual mouth hovered above hers, waiting, knowing she must respond. Trembling, she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue in invitation. Would it be so awful to surrender her kingdom to his, to become his queen? Her spies had told her he was a stern but just king, a 11
Dreams of Desire truth she’d begun to see for herself. The other day he’d loosed her bonds for a few hours and taken her riding to explore his lands. His kingdom was a prosperous one. Their ancestors had fought but there was no reason for them to remain enemies. Together they could be happy, if she could only make her stubborn mouth say the words he wanted to hear. He bent closer, his lips capturing the tip of her tongue. She moaned as he sucked her into his mouth. One of his fingers teased her nipple, sending waves of fire surging down her spine and into her loins. He broke off the kiss just as she ached for more. “I’ll have you bound in this bed or unbound in our marriage bed, but either way, I’ll have you,” he promised. “You know there’s no escape.” “I won’t share your marriage bed.” To her surprise, he grinned. “I like a stubborn wench.” He shifted position, his silvery hair sweeping down her body as he moved, tickling her flesh into thousands of goose bumps. His mouth paused over the juncture of her thighs and she stiffened. She lifted her head and strained to see what he was doing down there. Sapphire eyes blazed back at her for a long moment and then he lowered his head to feast between her legs. She cried out and ground her buttocks into the mattress as his tongue slid inside her, searching out the stiff little nub buried in the damp folds of her inner flesh. The orgasm took her against her will, sweeping through her in vast, unending waves. When it subsided at last, he raised his head and grinned 12
Jeanine Berry again. “You are mine, Calie. With every night and every dream, you become more and more mine.” He positioned himself above her on the bed and pressed his mouth to hers. She tasted the salt and sweet tang of her dew on his lips and felt the hard length of his phallus as he thrust deep into her engorged sheath. Her second orgasm was even more powerful than the first. **** Calie turned her head sideways on the pillow and gazed out her bedroom window at a patch of blue sky. Her body felt heavy, languorous. How many orgasms had she experienced during the night? She closed her eyes, savoring the last vestiges of the dream. The gods knew, she’d used her talents as an untrained dream master to conjure up some potent erotic fantasies in the past, but none like this. Barbose lor de Domatan seemed uncannily real to her. He’d somehow taken on a life of his own, a fascinating life. Soon she’d have to undo her bonds in the dream so she could touch that silky, moonlit hair, run her hands over those broad shoulders and down that massive chest. Abruptly, she sat up and shook her head. This dream was becoming an obsession. Maybe it was time to move on. She had other concerns, more important concerns, to occupy her thoughts. Today she planned to broach her request to Lord Tromas. Surely she’d proven her skills. And he would gain prestige among 13
Dreams of Desire the peers of the realm as the patron of a healing center. He would agree; he must agree. She dressed quickly and stood in front of her cracked mirror to brush her hair into a golden sheen. Binding the heavy tresses up into a single braid down her back, she grabbed her cloak against the morning chill and headed out the door. The streets were quiet, a fact which served her well as she strode along, mumbling her speech to Lord Tromas. She was in the middle of her impassioned plea when she passed the diviner’s door with its bold, red mark. This time she halted, her heart pounding in her chest. Was this indeed the best time to ask Tromas for this boon? She would have but one chance. Trembling, she lifted her fist and rapped on the door. She heard only silence for a long minute, then shuffling footsteps accompanied by a faint jingle. The door swung open to reveal an old woman with long, gray braids and pale blue eyes. She was dressed in a colorful blouse and skirt and the heavy gold bracelets at her wrists and on her ankles made the jingling sound Calie’d heard. “You’ve come, then,” the old woman said with a nod, as if she’d been expecting her. “I imagine you’ll want to be hearing about him.” “There is no him,” Calie said, edging a step backward. Did Melisa assume she’d come for advice on her love life? Most women probably did. Well, if so, the old hag was a fake. She’d half turned to go when Melisa spoke again. “Oh, there’s a him all right, but he only lives in your dreams… or so you think.” The woman crackled with 14
Jeanine Berry laughter, her face breaking up into a thick brown map of wrinkles. Calie froze, the hot blood rushing into her cheeks. Did this diviner see into her dreams—those fiery, erotic dreams? “Oh, come in, come in,” Melisa said, catching her breath. “The cards are eager to talk to you today. Yes, they are.” Calie followed Melisa into her shop. It was only a tiny room, lit by the pale light seeping through a single dusty window. A bare wooden table sat in the center with two chairs and an unlit lantern. A stack of derbali cards lay on the table. “Sit.” Melisa pointed to one of the chairs. Calie sat, already regretting her decision to consult the diviner. “Cut the cards,” the older woman commanded. Trying to still the shaking in her hands, Calie reached out and cut the deck as ordered. The sooner she got this done, the better. What a waste of good coin this would be. With an enigmatic smile, Melisa picked up the worn deck and began shuffling. Calie watched as the cards flowed like living things through her fingers. Then the old woman set them down on the table, picked up the top one and threw it out between them. Calie stared down at the face of a man sitting on a throne. He held a riding whip in one hand and his sapphire eyes glittered. Hair the color of moonlight spilled over his shoulders. “The king of your dreams,” the old woman crackled. “This is a card of mastery. But he’s not the 15
Dreams of Desire master of a kingdom, as you think, oh no.” Calie attempted a nonchalant shrug. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Why, the king of your dreams, of course. But he’s real, don’t you know. He’s a master dreamer like you.” Calie stiffened, shock blazing down her spine. No one had ever guessed that she was a master dreamer, not even her mother. She opened her mouth to protest but Melisa ignored her and threw a second card down on the table. A man stood braced against a wind, holding two crossed swords in his hands. “You face a choice,” Melisa announced. “It’s one you don’t expect. Choose wisely.” Calie swallowed, torn between bewilderment and anger. Melisa seemed to know a lot about her—too much. The old, gnarled hands moved a third time, plucking another card from the top of the pack and throwing it down on the table. A naked woman stood, tied to a post, her head thrown back, her mouth open in a cry as a man with a whip advanced toward her. “This card is a powerful one,” Melisa muttered, giving her a sideways look. “Not all can bear it, but it calls you to experience victory in surrender.” Calie glanced away. Had she been mad, coming to the shop of a diviner? All her secrets were revealed in these cards scattered across the table top. “You must choose your final card,” Melisa said. Fighting down her fear, Calie drew a card from the 16
Jeanine Berry pack and flipped it over. Again it showed a man, this time in a boat with his back turned, moving out onto a lake. In the foreground, on the beach, eight cups lay overturned. “You’ve chosen a card of awakening,” Melisa told her. “It’s time for your dream to end. It’s time for you to wake up and realize you’ve been living a dream that no longer satisfies.” A smug smile appeared on the old woman’s face as she held out her hand for payment. Jumping to her feet, Calie pulled a coin from her pocket and thrust it at her. “Here. My thanks.” The air in the small room had turned hot although the day had barely begun. Calie staggered toward the door and pushed it open. Light poured in and a cool breeze fanned her cheeks. Gods, had the old woman somehow seen into her dream—that terrible, erotic dream? Did she know the lustful fantasies that brought Calie to orgasm after orgasm in her lonely bed? Calie dragged the door shut behind her and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Abandon that dream? Not likely. Not when she could thrill nightly to the domination of her fascinating lover, yet wake each day to live her life as she pleased. No, it was a dream that satisfied her… satisfied her very much indeed. She’d be damned if she would let it go. So much for the talents of diviners. **** Tears slid out from under Calie’s lashes as she 17
Dreams of Desire dropped off to sleep. Lord Tromas’s refusal still stung. His sharp words had caused her a pain more deep and intense than that of any whip. He’d laughed, as if all she’d done to heal his ills had counted for nothing. “Healers are as thick on the ground as weeds after a spring rain,” he’d sneered. “You come at my beck and you’re cheap, that’s all. But if you get uppity, there are plenty of others more than eager to take your place.” Others, yes, it was true. Sarmona held many healers. Sometimes it did seem as if they’d sprung up overnight, like weeds. Healing had become one of the minor talents. Yet perhaps because they were so common, healers clung to their pride. They’d rather scramble for the paying clients while ignoring the poor who suffered from more than their share of ills. Why couldn’t Lord Tromas see that helping her to establish a healing center would bring him renown? If only she were more eloquent. She’d stammered when she’d made her request… With a sigh, she opened her eyes in her dream world. Perhaps tonight she would change the dream a little. She needed to forget this horrible day. She’d drown her sorrows in the throes of the dark passions that fascinated her. Here, in this dream, where she could control the world as she never could in real life, she was free to explore without fear. It was only a dream, one that would end whenever she pleased. The royal bedroom solidified around her. She’d imagined every intimate detail by now. What could she add to make this night even more erotic? Her eyes 18
Jeanine Berry narrowed as she pondered the possibilities. The door to the bedroom opened and Barbose stood there, dressed in a purple robe. His eyes scanned her, naked and spread open on the bed as always, and she saw that he held something in his right hand. It was an object shaped like a phallus and carved of mahogany. The rich wood glowed in the soft candlelight of the bedroom. She trembled as Barbose strode toward her, already knowing what he intended to do with it. How could she not know? She was creating this dream within her mind. Her loins dampened as she imagined him thrusting that stiff rod of wood deep inside her. He loomed over her, his sapphire gaze raking her body. Her nipples peaked and a sexual flush started on her chest and spread over her breasts as she grew aroused beneath his stare. “Do you know what this is?” he asked, showing her the wooden phallus. “Yes.” Blood pooled in the flesh between her legs and her heart hammered at her ribs. Up close, the thing looked huge, surely bigger than she had imagined. “It will not be as gentle inside you as I have been,” he said, dropping his voice to a seductive whisper. “If you would be treated as a wife and not a whore, say you’ll marry me now.” “Never.” “Then you must be tamed.” Frowning, he reached into his pocket with his free hand and brought out two metal clamps. Her eyes widened. Where had those come from? 19
Dreams of Desire Had her dreaming mind produced this twist? She pressed deeper into the bed and took a breath. “What are those?” “Clamps to hold your nipples upright while they are pierced.” “Pierced?” She couldn’t believe her ears. “You’d pierce my nipples?” He crooked his finger and two young women glided into the room. One carried a bowl of steaming water and a towel and the other held two long, bright needles in one hand. “No,” Calie gasped. Somehow this dream had slipped out of her control. She bit down on her lip as she strove to bring it back on the track she’d planned. Barbose was to tease her with the wooden phallus, then toss it aside and plunge into her himself. That was all. To have him inside her again—that would be enough. “For you, perhaps.” He spoke as if he read her mind, and her mouth dropped open in surprise. “I do read your mind in a way,” he said and raised his hand to halt the two women. They stopped at his side, flickered and melted into nothingness. Barbose’s eyes locked with hers. “It’s time you knew the truth. I am a dream master, too, and I share this dream with you.” An icy shiver of fear snaked down Calie’s spine. Melisa had said something like that. Had the old woman’s words created this nightmare? Was her imagination now out of control? “How can that be?” “Do you think you can come to the dream world and create as you please and go unnoticed? It was 20
Jeanine Berry inevitable that another master would catch your scent sooner or later—especially when the erotic vibrations you emit have set the ether to burning. I’ve watched your dreams for some time now, my Calie, and when you began to weave this dream where you were a captured queen, I decided to enter it and get to know you as your conquering king.” “But you’re not real. I created you.” She strained against her bonds, willing them to dissolve, but they held firm. “On the contrary. I’m very real. You see me as I am. In fact, my name is even Barbose, for I’m the one who put that name within your mind. Your dreams are in my control, Calie. They have been for some time.” Was that true? She shook her head and willed herself to wake up. Nothing happened. The dream room where she’d toyed with her fantasies of sexual submission remained solid. Barbose gazed at her, an amused smile on his face. “You see, I’m the master after all. There is only one way for you to take back control of your dream.” She lowered her lashes, trying to think. She was naked, bound, helpless, and she had no one to blame but herself. She’d created this scenario. “What’s that?” “You must become a dream master, too.” She laughed. Impossible! Not even in a dream. “No. Never. I’m a healer. I would have to give that up to become a dream master, and I don’t want to.” “You are foolish, then. A dream master works with time and space, altering reality. For our reality is born of our dreams. As a master, you can heal the world.” 21
Dreams of Desire She thrust out her chin. She’d heard whispers that the dream masters wielded such control over reality but it seemed impossible. Barbose must be boasting, trying to impress her. “I don’t want to heal the world. I want to heal the poor who can’t afford a healer. They are the ones who go on hurting while you masters spin webs for the powerful of the world. If I enter the Temple of Remoru as a dream master, I must obey the priests and serve them. My own dreams will be forgotten.” “Will they?” His smile was gentle. “There is much about us you do not know, Calie. First you must trust me and agree to enter the temple. Only then can I reveal our mysteries to you.” She swallowed, touched by the imploring look on his face. His sapphire eyes gazed into hers with tender concern and his moon-bright hair fell in a tangled mass over his shoulders. An incredible longing to yield to his desires swept through her, but she resisted. “I cannot.” “I could force you, torture you until you agree. You lay bound before me, after all. But sexual play is one thing and true pain is another. I can’t hurt you.” He made a quick gesture with his right hand and her bonds dissolved. Calie blinked up at him, stunned. Then she sat up. The bed felt solid and try as she might, she could not make the room vanish. With a chuckle, he sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “This bedchamber will stay real as long as I will it to stay real. I won’t force you, Calie, but I’ve come to love you. You’re young, 22
Jeanine Berry beautiful, bold, full of noble dreams, gifted in healing.” He paused and smiled, glancing down at her nakedness. “And open to all the ways of love. I especially enjoy the unusual erotic desires we’ve shared in this dream.” Heat flamed on her cheeks, pooled in her loins as she met his brazen stare. “You tricked me. I thought you were a dream lover, not a real one.” His arms tightened around her, drawing her close. She gasped as his lips claimed hers. His kiss was masterful, ravishing her mouth. When he released her, she saw laughter in his eyes. “Real lovers are better. We could share a lifetime together as dream masters.” She licked her lips, tasting him, wanting more. “I can’t. My gifts are needed elsewhere.” “That’s where you are wrong, my sweet.” His fingers traced the line of her jaw, slipped down her neck, rode the ridge of her collarbone, and then dipped lower to trace circles around the globes of her breasts. “You can do much more good for your poor as a dream master than you ever could as a healer.” She struggled to control her trembling as his fingers neared the rosy tips of her breasts. Her nipples stiffened in anticipation of his touch. “How?” she half-cried. The pounding of blood in her temples made it almost impossible to think. His nearness, his scent, his warmth, the weight of his fingers on her flesh—it all overwhelmed her. How had she ever thought he was a dream? “You can change reality, dream cures to their diseases. You can help them all, not just a few.” 23
Dreams of Desire Was it possible? Could he be telling her the truth? Was the idea that she could make her dreams into reality any more incredible than the thought that this man sitting beside her, teasing her nipples with his fingers, was real? She squeezed her thighs together, aware of a mounting ache in her tender inner flesh. “So.” He gave her a challenging look. “Have you tried to take back control of this dream?” She squirmed under that look, her nipples throbbing from his touch. “You know I have.” “And failed.” “You know that, too.” “Whenever you sleep—and sleep you must—I’ll enter your dreams and it will be like tonight. I’ll be the one in control.” Smiling, he laid a hand on her thigh, brushing his fingers over her flesh. They danced down the smooth skin between her legs, parting them. He pushed her shoulder with his other hand and she fell back on the bed. With a rush of fierce desire, she knew she would yield to him, even without the bonds, even knowing it was more than a dream. One finger slid inside her moist opening. “This will continue until you agree to enter the Temple. I will woo you with love, night after night, until you surrender.” Suddenly Calie heard Melisa’s voice in her memory. “You face a choice. Choose wisely.” The old woman had been right—more right than she could have dreamed. Or did she foresee this moment? 24
Jeanine Berry Calie frowned as she remembered the last card the woman had drawn. A man in a boat, with the overturned cups on the shore. She understood that image in her bones now, for it felt as if all her dreams had overturned and spilled upon the ground. Yet as she remembered that image, she realized that the man had the boat aimed at a destination. It was headed into a mist—like the mist of dreams—and a bright light shone in the distance. Something new, something wonderful. She looked up at Barbose. “What will you do to me if I continue to refuse you?” “Whatever I please, although nothing that will not give you pleasure.” He smiled and moved his finger inside her. She hissed softly and tightened her inner muscles, craving the sensation, longing for more. Her sheath clenched around his finger and pleasure shot through her body. “You’ve enjoyed every moment of these dreams. You know it. I know it. If I come up with new ways to torture you—and I will—you will enjoy those as well.” His finger continued to caress her. She quivered on the verge of orgasm, yet met his stare with all the coolness she could muster. “If I enjoy these sessions, it hardly seems like a way to force me to join the Temple.” He chuckled. “That’s where you’re wrong. Before this you didn’t know I was real. Now, you do. How long can you go on before you surrender to me so that you can meet me in reality?” “Reality or dreams, why should I care?” she 25
Dreams of Desire snapped. “Because once we are joined in reality, we can be together in both worlds, always, and you want that.” He leaned closer, his warm breath a caress against her cheek. “Come with me into the Temple and I will take you on a voyage beyond your imagination.” A voyage. The image of the man in the boat leapt into her mind once again. Could it be? Was this her fate, to lose her cherished dream of a healing center— for what? She gazed into his sapphire gaze, drowning. Their bodies had burned together as one so many nights in her dream. And now he lay beside her, his hot thighs pressed against her, his rigid phallus poking at her. Would their passion continue beyond the dream if she consented to enter the temple? Would what he offered really be more wondrous than what she left behind? The old woman spoke in her memory. “It’s time for you to wake up and realize you’ve been living a dream that no longer satisfies.” Who had she healed except Lord Tromas? He drained all her energies and gave her nothing in return but a few coins. He would never accede to her dream of a healing center. She’d been a fool to think a healer could gain that kind of influence. Calie took a deep breath. “Very well. I’ll enter your temple.” He flashed a delighted smile at her and slipped his finger from her body. “Welcome then, my love.” At his words, the royal bedroom dissolved. A new room took shape around her. It was as strange as any 26
Jeanine Berry dream can be and yet a part of her knew it was real, too. She gazed in astonishment. She still lay beside Barbose in a bed, but this bedroom was smaller and cozier. Bookcases filled with leather-bound books lined its walls. Rugs lay scattered across a floor of polished wood and comfortable chairs in front of a fireplace provided places for quiet reading. She ran her fingers across the silken sheets. Everything was solid, real. “Where am I?” she asked. “Within the temple in my private chamber. I have an extensive library. It contains the wisdom of many generations of dream masters. You will study here, as well as receiving training from your own personal master.” Her eyelids flickered. She relaxed into the soft mattress and brushed her hand against the curly mat of silver hair on his chest. “And who will that be?” “Me. I’ll mentor you and teach you all the arts of the dream masters.” His voice dropped into the seductive whisper she knew so well. “I’ll teach you to link our dreams together, until we are one in dream and reality both, our minds joined as closely as our bodies.” Shivers of delight coursed through her as she imagined the intimacy they would share. He reached out and took her hand. “It is the way of the dream masters. We always work in pairs, male and female. I have waited many years to find you, Calie. It is traditional for the male to woo the female in her dreams, but this courtship has been the strangest in 27
Dreams of Desire all our history, I think.” As he spoke, he moved his body above hers, his thigh parting her legs. “You didn’t have to enter my dream,” she murmured. “I did if I wanted to enter you,” he said with a laugh. “I only hope you find me as arousing when we’ve spent long hours together studying our craft.” The moisture pooling between her legs told her exactly how arousing she found him. The image of the man in the boat headed for the light rose once more before her mind’s eye. Barbose hovered over her, his lips caressing her breasts. She trembled. Where were the cards guiding her? His mouth closed over her nipple, driving all thought from her mind. As his arms enclosed her she opened her legs and welcomed him deep inside. It was bliss to have her hands free to explore the sculptured muscles of his chest and shoulders as he drove into her. At the end, she dug her fingers into his back and clung to him as waves of orgasm shook her body. Afterward, they lay together in the bed as the fire in the fireplace burned low. “What will you teach me?” she asked, half dozing in his arms. He smiled. “You have much to learn. We serve the gods of light in their fight against the darkness. Some of us dream away famine and some dream away war. I have chosen to dream away disease.” “What?” She blinked in surprise. “A few of us are dedicated to this particular 28
Jeanine Berry dream.” His warm fingers squeezed hers. “Once healers were rare. So we dreamed a world where healers abound. It took long years for that dream to manifest, but now Sarmona suddenly has them in abundance. Next, we will dream a world where certain diseases are gone. Eventually, they will vanish, gone so thoroughly that no one will even remember them.” She stared at him in wonder. “This is possible?” “All this and more. It is not easy, though.” His dark blue eyes seemed to devour her. “It will require long and intense training.” His arms slipped round her, drawing her close again. Her breasts brushed against his chest and little tingles of excitement shot through her. The knowledge that his arms were real drove every other thought from her mind. She could feel his phallus pressing against her stomach. He was hard once more and ready for her. She lifted her face up into his. “My days will be busy?” she murmured with a smile. “Your days.” Barbose traced a finger over her lips. “And your nights. Your training requires you to spend the nights sharing the dreams of your dream master. We will learn to create a dream together.” His head bent lower, his warm breath brushing her cheek. He smiled. “I have many ideas for exotic scenarios—if you want to indulge your erotic fantasies some more. Together we will play with reality for our pleasure.” His lips touched hers. She yielded to the kiss with a sigh and buried her hands in his moon-bright hair as she had always longed to do. “I’m your willing pupil,” she said and smiled as 29
Dreams of Desire the room began to transform once more. The End
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About the Author
W
ords are Jeanine Berry’s passion, so it is no wonder she turned to writing as a profession and eventually became a writer of erotica. Jeanine is also the author of four other spicy SF and fantasy books for Extasy. Gabriel's Gift is the sexy and funny story of an alien with strange courting rituals who woes a shy school teacher; the Ailunnean shapeshifter series begins with Destiny Earth and concludes with Alien Seduction. Scent of Magic spins the tale of a woman with an unusual problem: her scent drives men wild. On occasion, her husband pulls Jeanine away from the computer so they can go golfing together. Her true fantasy is to hit a hole in one.