CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER NINE

JUSTIN

Justin was dreaming. Part of his mind was certain of it. This had all the relentless absurdity of his recent dreams, all the vibrancy, all the weight, thrill, and resonance. It had impossibilities that seemed normal and emotions heightened to the point where they threatened to drown him with their intensity.

He stood on the deck of a sailing ship. Not some modern vessel, either. It was a sailing ship straight out of distant history, something found in the Caribbean, helmed by pirates chasing Spanish gold on the high seas.

Huge masts without sails stretched into a storm-raging sky. Rain lashed the ship, pelted the deck, and soaked his clothes. The wind howled and wailed, buffeting him, sending bursts of rain against him like bullets. The wind rose and fell, mirroring the way the ship rose and fell with the angry waves. Lightning jittered across the sky like purple-white cracks in the ceiling of dark clouds.

At first, the ship seemed empty. A ghost ship? He didn't know. He was alone on the deck as the ship surged upward into a wave and dropped sharply into a trough. Terror and exhilaration raced through his veins. His mind knew he was wet and should be shivering and miserable, but his body felt none of that.

Instead, he felt…anticipation. A strange, powerful feeling of anticipation. As if he had a second chance coming with the storm, and now was the time to seize it. The feeling wasn't specific, but it was pervasive. It was a dream emotion smothering in its intensity.

Justin glanced down at his body, both surprised and not surprised to find that he wasn't pregnant. His belly was flat as a board, with the shirt plastered to it by the rain. He was surprised because he knew he should be pregnant, and he was not surprised because he knew this for a dream. If this were real, he'd be cowering in the hold, hiding with the rum barrels until the storm passed or the ship sank.

Bolder now, he walked across the deck toward the stern and the wheel, drawn by a feeling that he was needed. No, not needed. Desired.

His bare feet slapped and splashed on the wet deck. Spray from violent waves filled the air, arching up over the railing and rushing upward from the bow.

Prince Richard Hargreave stood at the ship's wheel. Joy burst inside Justin at the sight of his mate. Pure, powerful joy overwhelmed him with the feeling that things would be "right" from now on, so intense that it left him half-stunned.

Richard's broad, muscular chest was bare. Goddess, did Justin ever miss that perfect chest. He missed the way he could make Richard growl with pleasure when he nipped and licked at Richard's dark nipples or traced his tongue down those abdominal muscles.

The rain ran down Richard's torso, streaming in rivulets. Richard's dark hair was wet, blown wild by the wind. He cut a commanding figure at the helm, like a fantasy straight out of Justin's head, strong, powerful, and imposing while lightning veined the clouds in the skies.

Justin ran up the stairs to the upper deck. Even the dream storm and violent seas didn't fully register with him anymore. He only had eyes for Richard. And even though part of him knew they were no longer together, his wolf and the rest of him understood that here, anything could happen. Here they were together. In dreams, Richard was waiting for him.

Richard wore sexy-tight pants. Weren't they called breeches? Justin couldn't remember and didn't care. Richard also wore those fold-down boots that transformed movie pirates from scurvy, lice-ridden sea dogs into sexy captains of the oceans.

Again, it was as if there were multiple parts of Justin split into factions inside his mind. The detached, logical part was wryly amused by this over-the-top fantasy. His wolf was howling in delight at finding his mate. And the rest of him could only think of reaching Richard, touching him, kissing him again. He thirsted for it. He needed it.

I am dreaming, that logical part warned him. I'm having this silly dream because I'm alone and haven't been touched in months. Nothing more than that. Soon I'll wake and—

Richard's green eyes turned to him, and the prince's smile could've melted gold. As Justin stepped onto the quarterdeck, Richard left the wheel and started toward him. The wheel spun wildly on its own, but Richard never looked back. Justin considered mentioning that maybe someone should be steering the ship, but then Richard pulled him into his arms. Richard's mouth met his in a ferocious, all-consuming kiss, and every other thought vanished from Justin's mind.

Being back in his mate's arms was heaven. He had no other words for it. They were on an empty ship in a storm, which should've been a nightmare, yet Justin had never felt safer. He embraced it completely. He'd ached for Richard for so long. He would take whatever he could get for as long as he could get it.

Richard's kiss deepened, his tongue thrusting inside Justin's mouth, sliding along his tongue. The kiss had Justin reeling, desperate for more. He put his hand on Richard's bare chest, feeling the solidity of the muscles there, shockingly real for a dream. Inside his head, his wolf fell quiet, eagerly allowing his human side to make this mating happen. His wolf's elation, its feelings of love and safety and rightness, left him feeling euphoric.

Rain lashed them as they kissed, but Justin was barely aware of it. For a few giddy moments, he seemed to be outside his body, watching as Richard kissed him. It was as if he were a ghost, staring at himself locked in his mate's loving embrace. But as he started to think about it, the dream pulled him back to where he should be. In Richard's arms, feeling Richard's hard erection pressing against him.

Justin was achingly hard, too, and humped his cock against Richard's thigh. Justin's dick felt bigger than normal. So, yes, the prince he loved was kissing him, and Justin's cock had magically grown longer. This wasn't just a good dream. This was the best dream.

He grinned into the kiss as intense waves of pleasure rolled through him. Like his emotions, the pleasure was heightened by the dream to staggering levels. The desire raging inside him was like fire inside his chest. The needy ache in his groin was almost too much to endure.

Richard didn't say a word, but his alpha aura was overwhelming, a sense of power and control and strength. It was something a part of him yearned for, as if Richard were a key that opened a special lock inside that no one else could release.

Justin desperately ran his hands over Richard's body, his mind remembering it all. He remembered touching Richard like this, making love until they were both exhausted. Lying in bed naked together, talking about nothing in particular. And then making love again.

Even those memories didn't last, smothered by the intensity of his desire and his emotions, his love, his need, the raw power of his happiness to be back in the arms of his mate.

Richard didn't bother with Justin's shirt. His big hands deftly undid the rope belt holding on Justin's roughspun, knee-length trousers. Justin wasn't wearing undergarments, much to Richard's apparent delight. He still wore his shirt, still soaked and clinging to his body, but his lower half was fully nude and fully aroused. Rain struck his naked body like hundreds of wet little kisses.

Richard kissed him again as he took Justin's new-and-improved length in his big hand and began a slow, delicious torment stroking along the shaft. Like everything else, the sensations were dizzying, leaving Justin dazed by their intensity. And they hadn't even gotten to the best part yet—

Abruptly, Richard released him and drew back from their kiss. The prince stared down imperiously at him, stern and fierce, water droplets running down his cheek and neck and demi-god chest. Justin reached out a trembling hand and caressed his mate's face. Richard's heart-melting smile reappeared, and his eyes shone with love. He caught Justin's hand at the wrist and kissed his palm. The tenderness of the gesture almost undid Justin.

Then Richard grabbed him, spun him around, and pulled Justin tight against his body. Justin felt his mate's hard cock pressed right along his ass. Warm. So deliciously warm. Lust flared inside with a heat that consumed him.

Richard kissed his way along Justin's neck, pulling the collar of his shirt away to kiss even lower. He ran his hand into Justin's hair and bunched his fist, using his tight grip to control Justin's head. He turned Justin enough to capture his lips in another searing kiss.

The prince was clearly in control now. He ended the kiss and pushed Justin back against the stern railing. Justin stood there in his drenched shirt and nothing else, his cock jutting upward, eager for his mate's touch.

Richard gave him a slow look-over, as intimate as any caress. His lips curved in a knowing smile. He pounced, kissing Justin fiercely, and before Justin could do anything but enthusiastically submit, he turned Justin to face out over the ship's railing. He clutched the rail and stared out at the storm clouds and the churning wake of the ship that was almost immediately lost in the violent waves.

Justin was panting as Richard spread his legs and moved behind him. He felt the hot tip of Richard's cock press against his hole. His lust-dazed mind had one brief thought: wait, we don't have lube!—but that thought was obliterated when Richard seized his hips and, with a perfectly aimed thrust, shoved his cock deep into Justin's ass.

His mind expected pain, but there was none of that in his dream. A wave of pleasure coursed through him, as powerful as an electric current. He gripped the rail for dear life as Richard began to thrust into him.

Normally, Richard was a tender, caring, and patient lover. This time, however, it was as if he could read Justin's desperate need. After going so long without intimacy with the man he loved, Justin had no patience for a long build-up. He wanted all the pleasure right now. He was afraid something would wake him before he finished. He feared the dream would change, or lightning would strike the mast, or something would go wrong. He didn't want this to end, but even more than that, he didn't want it to end too soon.

The sensation of being filled, of being whole and connected to his mate, brought tears to his eyes. Or maybe that was rain in his eyes. He didn't know. What he did know was that he was going to come just from being fucked from behind. The ache in his balls was maddening as his pleasure spiked and they pulled up tight against him.

His orgasm hit like a lightning strike, brilliant and inescapable. It slammed into his body like a rogue wave, drowning him in pleasure. He loosed a wordless cry as his cock jerked, spurting cum into the waves and onto the deck.

And it wasn't over. Unlike real life, his pleasure wasn't fading from its peak as Richard thrust into him even faster. The sensations were still building, building. He was shocked to realize that he might come twice with no downtime—a totally new thing for him.

Richard gripped Justin's hips hard, pounding away, rocking his smaller body with every powerful thrust. He felt Richard tense. A growl escaped his lover's lips as he began to spurt hot seed into Justin's channel. Justin's pleasure finally reached a plateau, and he trembled as he clutched the railing, his knees threatening to buckle. Then, even as Richard was emptying himself into Justin, the wolf prince leaned in close.

"Mine," Richard growled, the word absolutely possessive, utterly powerful.

He bit Justin on the side of the neck, pain and pleasure, dominance and submission intermixing, heightening each other in a way only possible in a dream. Justin cried out Richard's name as he came again and—

Justin woke with a flinch and a cry, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat and panting hard. No sleep paralysis for him. Not for his cock, either. That guy was standing straight and hard…and what the ever-loving hell? The sheets were damp, and he clearly caught the scent of cum. A wet dream?

Holy shit.

He raised a shaky hand to wipe his face, staring past the swell of his belly to his crotch in a mix of amusement and horror. The sheet puddled in his lap, his seed was still warm, and only now was he finally starting to lose the boner. The whole thing might've been funny if it hadn't been so pathetic.

What the hell was wrong with him? That dream had been…well, wonderful and silly, amazing and ridiculous beyond belief. An ancient ship without sails caught in a raging storm. The man he'd once loved at the helm, looking like a half-naked pirate. A prince who no longer belonged to him. The mate who rejected him. But on that ship, not even a storm could come between them.

You, my friend, have some serious issues.

Yep. Exactly. Carl Jung would have a field day with him. He was never going to tell another living soul about that crazy dream. Certainly not about getting his rocks off during the festivities. Nobody would be able to resist making fun of him for it.

But oh, for a short time, it had felt so very good…

With a sigh, he climbed out of bed, changed his underwear, pulled the stained sheet off the bed, and snuggled back under the comforter. He would finish cleaning up the embarrassing mess tomorrow. He could take care of it when his aunt was feeding the dogs or milking the cows. If he timed it right, he could avoid any more humiliation.

Justin closed his eyes. He slowly massaged the bridge of his nose…and couldn't get back to sleep. He lay there in the darkness, listening to the house creak and settle. He could hear one of the dogs moving down the stairs, its claws clicking on the steps.

His thoughts kept circling back to the dream. Had that been one of the dreams Brin prayed for the Goddess to give him? If so, then wow. The Goddess wasn't exactly a nun, was She?

Or had he transformed the dream into something lurid because he was so horny for Richard? That was probably it. He felt embarrassed and ashamed—and impatient and annoyed with himself for feeling that way. He'd been asleep, damn it, and not responsible for the sex-dream melodrama his brain roped him into.

Clearly, he was still desperate for Richard's touch. Being with him again had felt so very right. Too bad it would only ever be a dream.

His heart was low, and the ache of melancholy sank deep. He didn't break down in sobs or anything, but the ache pulsed in the center of his chest. It was the old hurt returning to haunt him, to rob him of any pleasure or happiness he might still feel.

Justin lay curled on his side, the most comfortable position for him these days. He felt tired and sad and out of sorts. Why deny it? He still missed Richard. Would he ever be able to move on?

He settled a hand on the swell of his belly. At least he wasn't completely alone. He had a part of Richard with him still. It would have to be enough. He couldn't leave the farm as Brin wanted. Even though she'd been adamant that Justin was still Richard's mate, what did it matter now? Richard was hundreds and hundreds of miles away. He would marry someone else, someone highborn. Besides, what could an omega like him do against the powerful people who'd framed a majinette dreamer and forced her to flee for her life?

Nothing. That's what.

Justin tried to clear his mind and fall asleep again. His brain refused to cooperate. His wolf, roused and shaken by the power of the dream, whined for their mate. Justin struggled to ignore the wolf, but he kept remembering things he'd done with Richard when they'd been together. Things they'd said to each other. Smiles. Long talks. The passion and the laughter…

Hours later, after much restless tossing and turning and two pee-trips to the hall bathroom, he eventually fell asleep and found some peace from the worries and regrets that chased him.

If he had more dreams, he did not remember them. Maybe that was a curse, or maybe it was a blessing…