Jonathan is standing beside my bed. I’m lying there naked and the knowledge that he is observing
me is sending prickly shivers through me. I can’t settle down, I toss and turn in my bed, I stretch out
my arms, and slide my fingers through my hair.
His face is in shadow and I can’t see his expression, but that only heightens my arousal. The area
between my legs grows hot and the throbbing desire there increases. I want him to touch me; I want
to feel his hands on me.
‘Please,’ I whisper, but he won’t touch me—he stays in the shadows, tall and dark. My heart is
beating wildly and I feel strangely free, I’m not ashamed of my nakedness.
The burning sensation on my skin refuses to subside, so I touch myself, run my hands over my
shoulders and down to my breasts, grasping them firmly. My nipples are erect and when I touch
them, a bolt of electricity shoots down to my lower body and makes me groan. I pluck at them again
and again, and enjoy the waves of pleasure spreading through me. The throbbing sensation between
my thighs is almost unbearable now, and one of my hands wanders down there, almost of its own
accord, places itself on the soft mound and presses against it, stimulating its sensitive place.
I stare at the dark figure beside my bed, as if hypnotized. He could assuage these torments. But I
don’t know how to get him to do that.
I run my tongue over my dry lips despairingly, as my breath grows increasingly labored. I can’t see
his face but I can see his eyes. The fire blazing in their icy blue depths is burning me. I pant and arch
my back. My body is seized by tremors, the pleasure seems to be gathering itself between my legs
and it’s getting stronger, becoming inescapably intense. And then comes the point everything has
been driving toward and there is an explosion that sets off wide, liberating shockwaves inside me.
Shudders run through me and I hear myself scream with pleasure.
I want to hold Jonathan but he retreats, disappears completely into the shadows again, until I can’t
see him anymore. He’s slipping away from me, he’s leaving me behind.
I wake up with a start and raise my head and look around the room. The street lamp outside is
casting a pale light into the room. I can clearly see the outlines of furniture. I’m in bed. Alone. My
nightgown has been pushed halfway up; I’ve got one hand between my thighs and the other holding
my breast. I let both hands sink back onto the mattress, with a deep sigh, and throw my head back
onto my pillows.
It was just a dream.
But I have trouble calming myself down again. I’m still breathing rapidly. The more my breath slows
and the more the feeling of satisfaction subsides, the more reality comes into focus. I roll over onto
my side and draw my knees in toward my body, protectively. I’ve never had such an intense erotic
dream before, and it truly shocks me. Because it felt so incredibly real—and because I enjoyed the
feelings it aroused so much. I’m obviously drawn to Jonathan Huntington by much more than just a
Which means I’m in big trouble.
Unbound: Colours of Love by Kathryn Taylor is out now, published by Bastei Entertainment, price
£3.99 in eBook