This night, like most nights, Gwendolyna laid by Richter’s side, patiently waiting for morning to come and wake him.  A typical night was uneventful.  She wouldn’t call those evenings boring, as every minute she got to spend by his side was a blessing, but there wasn’t much to do but play with his hair and appreciate his beauty.  She much preferred those to the nights he had nightmares.  He’d never speak of them, but she knew by the way he tossed in his sleep, and how pensive he was upon waking.  Her favorites, however, were the nights he had what she could only assume were sweet dreams.

At times, she felt so jealous of him.  She could sleep if she chose to do so, but she couldn’t dream.  She often wondered what could possibly be going on in that head of his when she saw him smiling in his sleep.  Sometimes, his lips would move, and some of those times, words would slip out.  It was always nonsense that amused her to no end.  She found herself responding without knowing if he could hear her or not.

Richter was rather vocal tonight.  She hadn’t the faintest idea what the meaning of his mumbles were, but she shushed him while brushing his bangs away from his forehead.  As she did, she couldn’t help but notice how damp this hair was tonight.  It clung to the skin that was soaked with perspiration.  It was odd considering the bed wasn’t warm.  The dwindling flame in the fireplace only generated enough warmth to make the temperature comfortable, not unbearable.  In addition, her lack of body heat tended to cancel out his and keep him cool in his sleep.  She prayed he wasn’t falling ill.  She had noticed no other symptoms, but with this thought decided to keep a closer eye on him.

While doing so, she noticed the way he tossed his head and huffed in his sleep was a touch too… reminiscent.  To put it bluntly, it reminded her of the few times when the two made love and she was the one atop him.  Though she wanted to look past it and focus on her concern over his health, she found herself titillated from such a sight.

Gwen decided it would perhaps be for the best if she left him alone.  Her interference was likely making whatever was happening in his dream more intense.  Yet even as she closed her eyes, turned from him, and tried to pretend that he was peacefully resting, she could hear those blissful sighs.  She wished she could shut her ears and ignore him.  Each noise from Richter caused desire to pool in her stomach.  She needed to leave.  She got it in her mind to slip out for the night, to rid herself of the temptation of bothering him in his slumber, but heard one word that paralyzed her.

“… Gwen…”

She gasped.  Was he dreaming of her?  Surely, she misheard him.  It was impossible that he was calling out to her.  The man never spoke her name.  It was always “vampire” or “pet.”  At times, she wondered if he had forgotten it entirely from their first meeting.  She was ready to write it off as a misinterpretation, until he said it again.  Well… “Said” was a bit of an understatement.  He practically moaned it.

The sound of her name falling from his lips in such a manner made her want to sob.  The lack of use made hearing it that much more intimate.  Never before had her own name sounded so lewd.  It was far too much for her.

She decided it was time to go.  He’d likely interrogate her about her absence, but whatever punishment that would arise would certainly be less torture than listening to him all night without acting.  As she went to throw the heavy blanket off of herself, her arm brushed his leg… or what she initially thought was his leg.  She swore at herself when she realized the truth.  The vampire’s curiosity got the better of her and she drew the blanket back enough to sneak a peek.

This dream had taken such a toll on his body.  When she glanced between his legs, she found him already stiff.  Her hand moved on its own, as if seeing it through the fabric was not proof enough for her.  When she lowered his pants, so much precum had seeped from the tip that it glimmered in the faint light of the hearth.  Just the touch of her fingertips gracing the velvety skin caused his brow to furrow and his lips to part.

Though she willed her hand to retreat, fingers wrapped around his length.  She longed to help him.  He sounded like he so desperately needed release and it pained her to think of him going without.  She reasoned to herself that it would not hurt to assist him with this.  Her strokes were careful, just enough to stimulate him without interrupting his sleep.

Tending to him made her own needs worse.  The dull ache of desire throbbed between her legs when she earned that relieved-sounding sigh from him.  Her body grew envious of her hand; she wanted him inside of her.  The voice of reason waned as her need increased. 

“Shh…” she said to him when she released her hold on him.  “I will take care of you, my lord.  I will…”

She bunched her nightgown and carefully repositioned herself to hover over him.  Eyes rolled back as she sunk onto his length.  A hand had to be clasp over her mouth, lest she moan aloud and wake the man. 

She took it slow at first, rocking forward slightly to try to take the edge off.  This, like everything else she attempted tonight, only served to make a fool out of her.  This did not make things better for her; it caused the fire within to burn hotter.  Though only slightly, her efforts grew more aggressive.  She had to lean forward to steady herself, and she prayed he didn’t feel the shift of his pillow as her hands landed on either side of his head.

Richter’s breathing grew increasingly labored with each roll of her hips.  The rise and fall of his chest became more prominent.  Whines slipped past his beautiful lips, so sensual that she couldn’t help but clench around him.

“Shh…  ‘Tis just me, my lord,” she whispered to him when she feared that he was rousing.  His face softened with her soothing words.  If she were delusional, she’d claim she felt the pulse of his cock unconsciously flex inside of her at the sound of her voice as well.  True or not, that feeling goaded her into chasing relief. 

The vampiress had become blinded by lust.  So enthralled in trying to get this over with as quickly as possible, she didn’t feel the hands as they crept up her thighs and eventually settled on her hips.  She paid no mind to the fact that her motions were now being met with lazy thrusts.  She heard his soft groans, but assumed they were yet another product of his dream.  With her own eyes screwed shut, she did not see how those sapphire eyes of his fought the lids heavy with sleep to gaze up at her.

“Couldn’t wait…” Richter began, only to be interrupted by a yawn that made Gwen freeze.  “… ‘Til morning, my creature of the night?”

She whimpered at the sound of his husky voice combined with the sleepy amusement that followed.  Despite still being so tired that he couldn’t bother keeping his eyes open, his grip tightened to grind her hips against him.

“What a sight to wake to…  My desperate pet straddling me.”  A huff of a laugh breezed past his nostrils and he shook his head.  “My dreams don’t dare to be as fantastic as this.”