Dream of Us
Chapter Thirty-One

Denali’s POV.

“This is why we’re teaching you how to control it,” I tell her gently. “That was great, but it wasn’t controlled. Here, I’m going to get a glass and we’ll try again.”

The moment I drop her hands, the ribbons of gold beneath our skin disappears. Dyani looks down at her hands disappointedly. I fetch a glass and fill it with water. I set it down in the centre of the table and return to her.

“Let’s try again. This time, focus specifically on the water inside the glass, not the glass itself. You want to evaporate it and leave the vase intact.”

She looks determined as concentration falls over her face. She narrows her eyes on the vase and grips my hands tightly. Another fireball forms from our hands. It soars through the air and over to the glass. When it reaches the tumbler, it moulds around the circular shape and disappears inside it. The water bubbles and then evaporates into steam, rising out of the glass, leaving it empty.

“Perfect.”

She grins at my praise. “I did it!”

“I’ll fill it up and we can try again.”

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Dyani’s POV.

My body is hot. Too hot. I throw off the duvet and run my hands over my heated skin. Every part of me is covered with a thin layer of perspiration, even my hands leave a burning touch in their wake.

A set of hands falls on my calves. They’re cooler than mine, they offer some relief from the heat as they slide up to my thighs, where they push them open. Cold breath is blown onto my pussy, allowing me to feel how wet I am.

A new set of hands palms my breasts. My nipples, warm and swollen, immediately tighten and harden under the cold touch. I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling like my lungs are opening now that the air is clearing from this hazy heat.

A third pair of hands land on my hips. They pin me down and hold me in place as a tongue replaces the breath between my legs. It strokes up and down, up, and down, tasting and teasing my folds. I want to raise my hips and rub my pussy against the tongue for more friction, but those hands hold me still, pinning me to the bed.

Someone removes the blindfold I didn’t realise I’m wearing. There’s a light on somewhere, although I can’t see where, and it provides enough light for me to make out the figures of three men surrounding me on the bed. Denali sits on his knees to my right, the blindfold in his hands.

“You’re ours, Dee,” he whispers.

“Ours.”

Two other voices echo the sentiment from lower down the bed, making me tense up. I don’t recognise the voices, yet the sound familiar at the same time. Like I’ve known them before…from long ago…

“Dyani!”

I wake with a start, breathing heavily. It takes a moment or two for my brain to catch up. I rub my eyes and look at Denali, who is next to me in bed. He’s turned on the bedside lamp, I stare at his face and replace his jaw clenched. The duvet is kicked to the bottom of the bed and the sheets are wrinkled in disarray, as though I’ve been writhing around.

“You were dreaming,” he says huskily. He groans and rubs his eyes. “We were having the same dream.”

“You were there?” I ask, choking on air as embarrassment hits me.

“Yes, I was there,” he growls.

He suddenly sits up and I notice the erection trying to burst its way out of his pyjama trousers.

“I need a cold shower. Go back to sleep, Dee.”

Dee. He called me that in the dream.

“Are you okay?” I ask him as he gets out of bed.

“I’ll be fine, I just need a shower.” He looks over his shoulder at me and gives me a small smile. “Go back to sleep, it’s not morning yet.”

I lay on my back in bed, staring up at the ceiling as I think about the dream. Our bond obviously allows us to connect in our dreams if we’re close enough. The other two pairs of hands belong to my other mates, obviously.

Calian and Nuka.

I want to meet them. I don’t know if that’s the right way to word it when I’ve technically already met them, but I want to see them again. Denali promised that we will go after them as soon as I’m ready to use my magic. He’s warned me that they will be under guard and that getting them back won’t be easy, it’ll be dangerous.

I’m ready, though. All my adult life, I’ve thought that I was strange and different for not remembering anything before fifteen. I was scared that my past was filled with abuse or some other horrific experiences. I was scared that my brain had hidden the memories to protect itself. As it turns out, they were stolen from me. I want my old life back and I want to see the person who took it from me pay for their crimes, even if that person is supposedly my father.

The water runs in the bathroom behind me. Denali has left the door ajar and I’m still turned on from my dream. I slide out of the bed and tiptoe over to the bathroom to sneak a peek. Looking through the gap in the doorway, I spot Denali in the shower.

He’s standing under the spray, his form blurry behind the fogged-up screen. He has one hand braced on the tiles, the other is working furiously at his dick, pumping up and down. I’m enraptured, staring like I’m in a trance. My hand slowly creeps into my underwear and replaces my clit, soaking and poking out from under its hood, begging to be touched.

I keep my eyes on him, watching him pleasure himself as I circle my clit with my fingers. He lets out a groan and I realise that he’s going to cum soon, I need to be fast if I want to cum with him. I rub my clit in fast circles, pressing down harder. My legs stumble into a wider stance, giving me better access as my hand works my clit.

“Dyani,” he groans my name and throws his head back.

Long moans and growls leave his lips, his hips thrust back and forth, fucking his hand as he ejaculates across the tiles. My orgasm hits in an instant, fuelled by the erotic view in front of me.

“Den,” I whisper and my clit throbs against my fingers.

The pleasure sweeps through me like a fire, heating up my skin once more and stealing the oxygen from my lungs. I’m a gasping mess as I throw out my free hand to steady myself against the door. Denali looks at me from the shower, his eyes immediately replaceing mine as though he has known I’ve been here the whole time.

I stare at him as the residual shocks of euphoric pleasure fade, my hand slowing to a stop between my legs. He sighs and breaks eye contact, stepping back under the water to clean himself. I pull my hand from my underwear and wipe my wet fingers on the small amount of material. I’ll shower tomorrow morning; I’m a sweaty mess.

I turn away from the door, ready to go back to bed. I freeze as I hear his promise, spoken just loud enough for me to hear.

“Soon.”

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Living with your mate and not having them touch you is torture. After what Denali calls the ‘night of weakness’ where he taught me how to pleasure him with my mouth and made me cum, he has taken on a vow not to touch me sexually again. Not until we have found my other mates.

I understand his intentions and I actually admire his loyalty to my other mates. It’s respectful, what he’s doing. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, though. My body has been hotter in the last week or so. I feel like I’ve taken more cold showers in the last week than I ever have in my life. I’m having to wear more deodorant and change my clothes more often. Denali ensures me that the heat will pass when we replace my other mates, it is simply a side effect of being intimate with one but not all.

Denali might feel guilty for what we did that night, but I have no regrets. It was right for us in that moment. Knowing now that I have three mates, I am glad that he has eased my virgin mind into the world of sexual acts with only one man. Starting with three would have been far more intimidating.

I’m drinking a slushie full of ice when the car pulls up outside my flat. Denali kisses my cheek and takes my bag off me, putting it in the boot of the car. Sian steps out of the car, waving her passport in the air.

“You ready to get your mates back, Ani?” She asks excitedly.

I wipe the perspiration from my brow.

Yes, I definitely am.

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