Daydream

"You have to learn to trust me at some point."

The whisper in my ear heated my skin, and I tried not to wiggle against the body pressed to mine. I didn't understand what he wanted.

"You. I want you."

And he could always read my thoughts. Damn irritating.

His low chuckle filled the darkness as his hand slid over my belly. I was naked. I was always naked, floating in the nothingness, and he was always here.

A dream. Just a dream, except I wasn't asleep. Not always. Not this time.

"It's hard to see you and not touch you. To see you and know that you won't let me hold you."

Let him? Nobody let Ferrara do anything. If he wanted to hold me, he would.

And that's how I knew it wasn't real. This was just the mate I wanted. The hero. The one who would listen and understand.

That was not the real Ferrara Knox.

"Are you wet, baby? Let me see."

I never stopped him. Never wanted to stop him. My body never reacted this way to anyone, and what was the harm? Instead, I turned toward him, threw my thighs across his hip while his cock settled right against my wet pussy. He was always just as naked as I was.

"Always wet for me," he growled. "Mine. You're mine, Violetta. I won't let anyone else have you."

"You're nothing more than a fantasy. A dream. You're not real," I told him with a small moan as his hands raked down my body and pressed between my legs. "You're just a way to drive myself to madness."

"You're the one making me insane. You won't talk to me. Won't let me in. All you'll ever let me do is this."

Grabbing my hips, he twisted onto his back, taking me with him until I fell over his chest. In that moment, like every time, I thought of pushing him away. It wasn't healthy to fantasize about him like this. It wasn't real. It would never be real.

But I didn't stop. Ever. Glutton for punishment. That's me. And when I settled on his cock, I moaned just a little as I tried to make room for this thick length. His grunt just made me more slippery as I wiggled.

"Fuck, Violetta. You always gotta tease."

"Not teasing. Just...uh...just figuring out what I like." It wasn't like I had a ton of experience. Or any experience. Mated three years and still a virgin. But I had this. This fantasy that wasn't real.

"Do you like this? Do you like it when I fuck you, Violetta?"

He knew that I did, so I just growled at him and shifted my position so I could take him in a little deeper. He let me play for a few minutes while pleasure coursed through me, but then he grabbed my hips and took control.

Helpless. I was always helpless in his hands, but I always felt safe.

Another way that I knew it wasn't real.

Ferrara Knox was not someone who was safe. Not for me.

But that didn't stop me from screaming out his name as he fucked me into oblivion.

I was not in my bed.

Blinking, I stared down at the rag in my hand and realized I'd completely lost myself in one of those stupid dreams, and I wasn't even in my bed.

Or in my apartment.

The bar was empty. We'd been shut down for two hours. Normally, by now, I was curled up in my bed with a book, but I hadn't cracked open a book in three weeks. Not since Ferrara made Charlie the manager. Now, like every night, I'd been given a ridiculous cleaning task that always took at least two hours. Tonight, I was oiling the baseboards.

All of them.

Never mind that we had buffer tools to handle this or even that the baseboards really needed a new coat of paint. No, Charlie had decided that the place was far too filthy and needed a good shine.

And I was just the girl to do it.

I ached from my head to my toes. Charlie hadn't given me a single day off. The first time I refused to come down, he'd broken into my apartment and hauled me down to the bar himself.

I'd been wearing nothing but a T-shirt and a pair of panties, and that was how he made me work. And whenever there weren't any customers in the bar, the employees would find ways to entertain themselves.

My bruises had bruises.

They had two goals. One was to make me cry. I'd come damn close when they'd taken the poker to the grill coals and scarred my legs.

The second was to see my wolf.

I hadn't shifted once since my father was killed. Not when Ferrara demanded it so he could identify my wolf. Not when Parker pleaded that it would help me heal.

Now everyone wanted to see if pain would let her out.

I would die before I let any of these assholes get their hands on her.