Page 58 of Somno Slave

The question falls apart.

“This isn’t possible!”

“And yet.” He gestures lazily around the room. “Here I am.”

His lipsstilldon’t move but the sound turns around in my mind. My brain doesn’t want to catch up; the thoughts are jumbled and crazed like the words are losing their meaning. His eyes flick over my face, cataloguing every crack in my composure.

“You’re dreaming of me,” he finally says. Then tuts. “Naughty Doctor.”

I choke.

It doesn’t feel like a dream.

I scan my body aggressively like that will tell me the truth.

I can feel the sheet beneath my fingers, the coarse snag of fabric against my skin. The air is cold where my breath stutters out, warm where his body traps it back in. My heart isn’t floating or distant or miles away; it’s hammering, painful and exact. Each beat loud in my ears, screaming that I’m not dreaming.

In dreams, panic slides. Here, it rots.

There is no dream-logic to explain him away. No haze to soften his weight, his smell and the deliberate stillness of him watching me struggle.

This isn’t sleep. It’s being awake inside a body that has betrayed me.

“Lucid dreaming,” the voice moves through me.

I squeeze my eyes firmly shut as if I can push him out of my mind. I count down from five, numbers rushing over one another like water. I try to control my thoughts, to push myself into another dream.

When they re-open, I half expect it to all stop. But he’s still there, watching, waiting. Amused.

His lips flash into a smile.

“How was your date tonight?” He pushes closer. “Did he taste good?”

I try to move again but my body doesn’t respond.

“Stop!” I gasp. “Get out of my head!”

“Did he turn you on?”

His hand lifts slow enough that I can track every inch of it—and still I’m able to do nothing to stop it. It hovers just above me, not touching yet, but just waiting.

I buck wildly but nothing moves.

A faint smile ghosts his mouth. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “Did you think of me?”

“No!” I gasp. A lie. Fast and automatic.

He closes the space between us. The heat of him sinks into my skin before I can pull away from it.

His humour vanishes.

“Never do that again, Doctor.” The growl echoes around my mind. “You’re lucky he didn’t touch you properly.”

My stomach drops so violently it feels physical.

Touch.

The word catches somewhere deep in my chest and suddenly everything rushes back at once.