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The first time I had a nightmare in Mark's bed, a few days after we started seeing each other, he never noticed. The first time, it was my uncle, it was George in the bathroom. I never made a sound when I had that nightmare, just like I never made a sound in the bathroom. I was quiet, and he kept sleeping.
I was awake for hours, but he never knew.
The second time I had a nightmare with Mark, this time in my bed, it was Luke Ryland. I must have been right up against him when I jerked awake, because even though I didn't make a sound, he woke up. He turned, half asleep, threw one long arm over my shoulder, and kissed the back of my neck. He kissed the back of my neck, and I held still until his breathing slowed into sleep again. Eventually I got back to sleep myself. He never asked what woke me, and I never told him.
The third time I had a nightmare in bed with Mark, a month after we met, it was Adena. I muttered something, I'm not sure what, and my whole body twitched and jumped, and he woke up.
He woke up, and I turned to him as he turned to me, and when he asked me what was wrong, I told him. It was Adena, and I told him.
I told him about walking up the stairs, and seeing her body, about her red coat, the blood on the hardwood floor. I told him about the officer holding up the knife with his bare hands, about the disappearing body, and about Frank, how he laughed.
Then I told him about how it really was, about her body in the rain, the cold rain, the blood washed away, gone, along with any evidence; her body cold and wet; Adena, washed away. I told him about the Araber, about how Adena died, about how he was free for years before he died, because we couldn't avenge her. It was Adena, and I told him.
He didn't ask me any questions, not then. He listened, his hand warm on my shoulder, and then he pulled me towards him.
The third time I had a nightmare when I was with Mark, after it was over, after I told him about Adena in the cold rain, he pulled me towards him. He pulled me towards him, into his arms, and he murmured that he was sorry, that it was all right, that everything was okay. He ran his fingers through my hair, and then he kissed my temple softly.
The third time, the third time he kissed my temple, and then he kissed my neck, and I could feel the heat of his body, the warmth of his skin, his legs and his chest and his fingers and his lips, so warm, warm enough to push away the cold and the rain and the darkness and her red coat in the rain.
He kissed my temple, and he kissed my neck, and then he kissed my chest, and I could feel his hands on me, his warm hands on my back, his hands on my ass, urging me closer, closer to his warm, silky skin, closer to his legs and his chest and his lips and his cock, hot and silky hard against mine.
He kissed my chest, and then he kissed my stomach, and his hands were on my cock, and mine were on his, hot and silky and hard, and he moaned, and pushed the covers back and moved lower. He moved lower, and then his lips were on me, his tongue, god, his tongue, wet and warm and welcoming, and I moaned, and he took me in his mouth.
He took me in his mouth, his tongue wet and warm and welcoming, his hands on me, his hands on my balls, his mouth on my cock, and I moaned, and he took me deep, hot and silky and deep, and I came into him, deep and hard into him.
The third time I had a nightmare in his bed, he took me in his mouth, and I came into him, and then he came into me, and then we slept, dreamless and sated, until morning.
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