Arrogant Bastard - Julie Capulet Page 0,17

I don’t want to. I want to look at her and no one else. I’m crazy-thirsty, to drink in the sight of her. I want more.

I need to get closer.

She sees me.

She smiles at me.

Her smile infuses me with a strange kind of longing. And happiness. The emotion surges through me jarringly. When’s the last time I experienced pure, undiluted happiness? I can’t remember.

I try to walk towards her but I can’t. I’m swimming against a forceful tide. People are slowing me down. They’re holding my arms. It’s that woman who stole my cuff links whose name I can’t remember. And others. Grabbing for me.

How dare they! A boiling rage overcomes me.

With primal effort, I break free of them.

But Luna’s walking away.

I’m running, trying with everything I have to get closer to her.

I want her. I call out to her.

She turns.

At the far side of the room, where she’s standing, the scene is changing. There’s a sandy beach and an ocean at sunset, opening out to an infinite horizon. She pulls off her yellow dress.

I can’t breathe.

She’s wearing a yellow bikini.

She’s the air and the water and the sun. She’s my thirst and my hunger.

Her body is so insanely exquisite, I can’t bear it. I’m going mad. I want to put my mouth on her. I want to eat her and drink her and suck on her. I’ll die if I don’t, I’m certain of this.

She laughs at me but it’s a cute laugh. An inviting laugh.

I look down to see what she’s laughing at.

My jacket and my white shirt are open. My chest is bloody. For some reason, I don’t mind this. I’m much more concerned about my cock. Inside my pants—barely—I’m painfully huge and hard. I need her, now. The fever of my lust is unbearable. I need to be inside her. I need to come inside her.

She’s oxygen and light. She’s beauty and cool, hot relief.

The agony is both physical and existential. I need to taste her and absorb her. I need to be on her and in her.

What the hell is happening to me?

Gage, she says.

She’s holding something in her hands.

What is it?

I walk closer to her. A warm wave washes over our feet.

I want to kiss her mouth. I need to devour her.

I lean closer. Please, please let me.

She offers me the thing she’s holding in her hands but I don’t want it. I want to kiss her mouth.

Take it, she says.

I don’t want to take it. I just want to taste her mouth.

Take it back, she insists.

No, I say. I don’t want it. It’s yours.

I look down to see what it is.

It’s bloody.

The blood is dripping from her hands.

I realize then that she’s holding my beating heart.

I jerk awake.

Fuck.

Where am I?

I sit up and put my hands on my chest to feel for blood. There’s none. I’m intact. There’s no hole there. My heart is still inside me and it’s beating fast.

Fucking hell.

My cock is as engorged and painful as it was in the dream. It’s heavy and hot and hard as a fucking pillar of granite.

I’m in a hotel. The executive suite of a five-star resort. In Key West. I remember now.

Luna.

The sassy little bartender.

Fuck, I was dreaming about her.

It was so vivid. It’s still so vivid.

I lay back on the bed.

I take my cock in my fist, carefully. I’m so hard and bursting, it hurts.

Slowly, I slide my fist along my thick length.

I close my eyes and return to my dreamscape. I don’t care about my heart. This time I can control what happens here. This time I don’t have to wait. I can take whatever I want of her. I pick her up and lay her down carefully on the soft sand. I begin to devour her. I lick into her mouth and rip off her bikini. I suck on her cherry-ripe nipples that taste like candy. She laughs that inviting laugh. She’s wet for me. I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside her. I slide my cock deep and—oh, fucking fuck fuck fuck—I come harder than I ever have in my life. All over my stomach and chest, my cum spurts from my cock in hot, excruciating bursts.

I’m breathing hard.

I’m sweating. I left the sliding door of the balcony open last night and it’s hot in here.

My heartbeat feels more meaningful than usual. I’m aware of a light, transcendent ache with each beat, like it’s still bleeding. Like it remembers the echoing grasp of her cool hands.

I