He was dreaming of her again, but this time, it was something was different. Her features were clear to him. His heart nearly ceased beating in his chest at her beauty. Her red hair was thick, and shined like a copper penny. Her nose was small, her mouth was adorned by kissable pink lips, and her petite frame supported surprisingly full breasts that led to a tiny waist and gently flared hips.
"Who are you?"
Her soft, angelic voice nearly brought him to his knees. Her green eyes were wide as if she was scared--of him. A fierce wave of protectiveness followed by anger that she would be afraid of him slammed through his chest. Didn't she know he was the one person that would never hurt her? He'd give his life for her, and if anyone else dared to hurt her, he'd take theirs.
"I'm Piers." He kept his voice even and calm while his heart beat fast and hard. "What is your name?"
The joy of hearing her name warmed him and made his cock twitch in anticipation of claiming her. A shudder of pure, unadulterated lust shot through him, but he had to go slow. She was tiny, and his size alone must be intimidating to her. God, she was beautiful. He ached to reach out and touch her, tangle his fingers in all that glorious hair and tug her to him. Instead, he held his arms rigid at his sides.
"There's no reason for you to be afraid of me, Sherry." Her name was like heaven on his lips, and her flowery scent mixed with the mating scent that was for him alone teased him.
She looked around. They were in the cave, and he knew she'd be confused as it was the first dream connected to him that she would remember. It would seem so real to her--it was real...almost. There connection was strong, and whatever they shared in their dreams would seem as if it had really happened upon waking. Their souls were in tune to one another even if their bodies, their minds, had never met.
She was his and he was hers. Nothing on earth could change that. He took a step toward her, and she backed away from him, her eyes warily watching his every move. He took several deep breaths to calm the raging urge to take her. He wanted her to come to him willingly, without hesitation, and that would take time.
"Where am I?" she whispered.
"You're dreaming." He decided to keep it simple. If he explained that she was his destined mate and they were actually connecting through their minds while sleeping, she'd probably flip out and wake up. He wasn't ready for the connection to be lost.
He moved slowly and sat down on a big rock just inside the mouth of the cave, and patted the flat surface beside him, beckoning her to join him. He watched the hesitation play over her face and was relieved when she'd obviously decided to accept his invitation and began to come toward him. Her movement was graceful, and the subtle sway of her hips made his fingers itch to touch her. She was made for loving, and he doubted she was aware of her allure or the effect she was having on him.
Her feminine movements were an unintentional seduction. They came natural to her and made him think of long, sweaty nights, silk sheets and the sound of her voice crying out his name over and over as he filled her, claimed her, gave her pleasure.
She sat next to him, careful to keep some distance between them, as if she could escape if need be. He'd give her that small measure of comfort, no matter how misguided it may be.