She wakes from a restless sleep, her heart already pounding. The dream that had been so clear moments before evaporates in the light of day. But she knows. It’s the same dream, even if she can’t remember the details. She catches her lip in her teeth, biting lightly. She’s been dreaming about him again.

She dreams about him almost every night and still, she would never be able to describe him. Blue eyes or brown? Fair hair? Brow? Gray? Black? The only way she ever sees him is in the dreams and every morning, the image of him fades from her mind.

What she does remember is how he makes her feel. The tension that draws across her, taut and pulling at her until it snaps in glorious ecstasy every night. And every morning, she wakes, her body remembering what her mind will not. Today is no different and she can feel the dampness pooling between her legs. She rubs her thighs together under the sheets, squeezing them together as she remembers the phantom touches that ghosted up them in the night.

She inhales sharply as fragments of memories of her dream come back to her. Hands were skimming lightly down her side, knuckles brushing along the underside of her breasts. A feather-light touch was skimming over a hip bone before trailing down her outer thigh. And darker memories: hands restrained, tied to a bedpost; a broad, masculine hand leaving wide red slap marks on her ass; and her eyes widening as she struggled to open her mouth wide enough to accept the cock pushing against her lips.

She sighs again and her hands move of their own accord. One snakes down her torso and pushes aside her soaked panties while the other caresses and kneads her breast. How had the dream started? She shifts through the vivid sensations as she slips a finger inside herself.

She didn’t remember how the dream started, there was no applying logic to a dream, but she remembered shaking as the last tremor left her body. She reached for —him— this mystery man whose touch is as familiar as breathing, but his face eluded her. She pulled him in, kissing the taste of her orgasm off his lips. The feel of him controlling her was exquisite, sending shivers down her spine even now. She traces her clit, making herself shiver again as she recalls the dream.

Her fingers gently trace the line of his collar bone and down to his ribs. Her hand continued its downward trail until she stopped at his hip bone, tracing a feather-light touch on the soft skin, making a line towards his belly. Now, the rising sun slanting through her window, she mirrored her dream and let her thumb skim her belly as two fingers worked her clit.