In life, he loved her. In death, he craved her.
Somma and David were in love and happily married until David was killed in a tragic accident. Somma is heartbroken, and even a year after David's death she is struggling to move on, especially since she swears he is haunting her dreams.
But when friends convince her to get David's possessions, things only seem to get worse, and she isn't so sure he's dead anymore. Not with the sexy stuff he does to her every night.
Somma dreamt about David. It wasn’t the first she’d imagined him since his death.
Usually, their encounters in dreams were brief and hazy. Her overwhelming emotions would be of sorrow.
Tonight was different.
Her sorrow diminished, overwhelmed by a different energy—vibrant, and sexual. It radiated around the room and seeped into her pores.
Heat flushed her skin and sweat coated her skin. She writhed and tangled in the sheets.
“Oh, David. I wish you were here,” she murmured, craving his touch to make the fever burn bright and give her ultimate satisfaction.
“I know you do, my sweet. That’s why I’m right here,” a deep voice whispered back.
Her eyelids fluttered open.
Silver moonlight peeked through the gap in the drapes covering the window. A shadow stood at the foot of the bed. Her husband. It wasn’t the first time she’d conjured him into her dream. This was another illusion of her mind.
“David,” her voice choked as her throat tightened. “I miss you so much.”
“I miss you, too, my sweet.” he shifted to the left hand side. His side of the bed.
The air undulated around her in a rhythm that made her body writhe, heat flushing through her. Tingles spread on her body. Her breast became heavy and her nipples chaffed against the satin negligee.
“Oh,” she moaned and kicked off the bed cover that seemed to make her hot.
“Somma,” he said her name in a sexy drawl. “You’re wearing undies. Naughty girl.”
Her cheeks heated at his chiding tone. He never liked her wearing panties when she was in sexy lingerie.
“I thought it would be okay since you weren’t here. I’m sorry,” she replied.
“Now, I’m going to have to take it off, and you know what that means.” Hands grabbed her thighs, yanking them apart.
Her insides clutched in expectation, and she gasped for air when his face hovered above her crotch. Electrified warm air fanned her skin, making it sensitive.
Her heart raced and desire coursed through her veins.
He grabbed the edge of the panties with his teeth and tugged. Her hips seemed to lift by their own volition, and the underwear slid down her legs and off.
One minute David stood by her bed with her pink knickers between his lips. Next, he wore them over his groin.
Her breath hitched. But she reminded herself that this was a dream, and all kinds of weird things happened in dreams.
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