Sun Broken (The Wild Hunt #11) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,66

covers, and Angel was standing over me, wearing loose pajamas.

“What? Where…” I bolted to a sitting position and glanced over at the clock. It was six in the morning. “Angel?”

“You were having a nightmare. I woke up when you started shouting. What on earth were you dreaming?” She sat on the edge of my bed as I pulled the covers up around my chin. I leaned back against the headboard.

“It felt like the one I had the other day. Like all of those I’ve had before we’ve gone into a bad situation. I wish I knew who I was looking for.”

“Was it a male or female voice?” Angel brushed my hair out of my face. Her voice was soothing and I had a sudden glimpse of her in the future, tending to her children with the same care and concern.

I tried to recall, but finally shook my head. “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“It’s okay. Everything will be all right. Just breathe.” She glanced at the clock. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Truth was, I wanted to fall into a dreamless sleep and sleep the day away, but the nightmare loomed too close. “I think I’ll get up. What about you?”

“I’ll get up with you. Want to go out to breakfast? Or should I make something?” She yawned. “We have some blueberry muffins. I can make eggs and bacon.”

“That’s perfect.” I slid out from under the covers. “I’m going to take a quick shower. I still feel grimy from last night, though I think it’s more psychological than anything.” I hadn’t told her everything that had happened. We had gotten home late and Angel had been dozing off on the sofa, waiting up for me.

“I’ll meet you downstairs.” She grabbed my covers and yanked them away. “Come on, sleepyhead. Get up and get your pale-assed self into the shower!”

That got a laugh out of me. I jumped out of bed. It was a little chilly, but I padded over to the window and opened it, letting the fresh air stream in. The screen was tight, to keep Mr. Rumblebutt from escaping, and I leaned on the sill, staring out.

“The warm weather is holding.” I closed my eyes. The dream began to loosen its hold on me, slipping away as a light breeze played over my body, waking me up.

“You’re probably giving someone a good show, you know,” Angel said with a laugh.

I shook my head. “Nope. There’s a couple tall trees full of leaves and needles between us and the nearest neighbor. Besides, serves ’em right if they’re gawking.” Feeling revived, I turned toward my bathroom. “Okay, I’m going to shower. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Angel closed the door behind her as I headed into my bathroom.

As I stepped under the warm spray of water, I realized I was on edge. Not just from the dream, but I was horny as hell. I wanted relief, but I wouldn’t see Herne until later. I paused, slipping out of the shower to open one of my vanity drawers where I pulled out my favorite toy.

Returning to the shower, I closed my eyes, leaning back against the wall, thinking of Herne as my hand drifted lower on my body, sliding down my stomach. I caught my breath, spreading my legs as my hand traveled over the neatly trimmed hair. I slipped my fingers between my lower lips. My nipples stiffened as I began to lightly caress myself, focusing on the pure sensation of arousal. The water spraying on my body took on a heightened sensuality, streaming down my body. I set the showerhead to pulse, and then lowered the handheld set to beat a staccato tattoo against me.

The drive and force of the water sent me reeling, and I slid back on the bench, raggedly panting. The continual pulse of the water against my clit hit hard, and I picked up the ribbed, pink dildo and slid it deep inside me, letting out a moan as it stretched me wide.

All I could see was Herne’s face. The onslaught of imagery—Herne sliding into me, his hair draping down to tickle my shoulders, his mouth on my breast, his eyes gleaming as he held my gaze, his hands holding my wrists against the bed—all coalesced into one wracking orgasm.

Moaning as the ripples echoed through my body, then slowly began to subside, I let the showerhead fall against the floor of the shower. When I was breathing normally again, I washed off my