Beth Kery

Presently Donna felt as if Grandma Ainne’s fingers were still there pressing down, making it impossible for her to open her eyes. She started when she heard the same sound that had awoken her again — a noise as elusive as a soft sigh.

“Who’s there?” Donna called out in alarm.

The silence that followed possessed a full, gravid quality that made the hair on her arms stand up on end. She began to rise in the bed when the terrible realization hit her that her chest seemed to be weighed down, held immobile as her eyelids. She cried out in surprise.

“Shhhh,” a male voice to the left of her whispered soothingly. Of course she hardly found the knowledge that there was an intruder in her bedroom reassuring. Donna opened her mouth to scream but nothing happened.

Had her vocal cords been frozen as well?

She trembled in fear when a golden light flashed in the room, brilliant enough to penetrate the thin skin covering her eyes. She felt her bed sag beneath someone’s weight in the terrifying blackness that followed. Oh God, she was about to be raped… maybe killed, and she couldn’t even lift her eyelids.

“I would never harm you. You are more precious to me than my crown, more beautiful than the goddess Danna herself.”

Donna gaped. She was stunned by that accented voice, so deep and rich with harmonic complexities. It was as if she were an untouched harp and he’d just reached out and stroked her until she quivered and thrummed with vibrant life. She somehow sensed his smile as he leaned over her.

“That’s right. You are my beautiful harp,” he murmured, reading her mind. “My touch will make you sing like never before. You see?” he asked gruffly as his fingertips skimmed the side of her neck and trailed over her collarbone. She shivered with excitement. By the time his fingers lowered to her breast her nipples had pulled into a hard little darts that pressed against her tight T-shirt. She gasped when he grazed the sensitive flesh and then returned to pinch her lightly between thumb and forefinger.

“Ahhh,” she moaned in confusion and rising arousal, her voice box unthawed by lust.

Her potent, uninhibited reaction was strange enough to make her believe she was dreaming despite the hyper-reality of the moment. Her fear receded only to be replaced by awe. “Who are you?” she whispered in amazement as his large hand skimmed from just beneath her armpit to her waist where he palmed her tenderly before lowering.

“I am your king Donna, and you are my queen. My wait for you has been far too long. It is past time that I claim you.”

Donna’s mind went blank for a moment because he’d just matter-of-factly pushed his hand into the waistband of her sweat pants. The feeling of him shaping her hip into his palm possessively and pressing his fingers into a butt cheek left her speechless.

“Don’t… don’t tell me… you’re Dristan… that hottie from Grandma Ainne’s fairy tale,” Donna finally rasped as he shoved his other hand into her sweatpants and cradled both her hips in a warm embrace. This must be some kind of crazy dream –

“Ainne always did spice her tales richly,” she heard him mutter with obvious amusement. “But you’re right. I am Dristan. I can only hope I don’t fall short of Ainne’s tall tales.” His right hand moved slowly between her thighs. She held her breath when he found his way beneath her panties, but she cried out shakily when he worked a long finger between her labia and stroked her surely.

“I… I can’t imagine that you would disappoint anyone,” Donna panted as her clit began to burn against his teasing finger.