Quiet rain soaked the fallen leaves of the garden that lay in late autumn's slumber outside the elegant French doors. Katherine watched as it gathered in small pools on the ground between the naked trees and reflected the light of the three lamps there. She brushed the long brown hair that coursed its way luxuriously down her back. Her thoughts flitted from one thing to the next randomly searching for something interesting enough to occupy them. The lamps flickered in the wind adding their own dancing to the sparkle that entered her room. On nights like this she'd sit at the dressing table in her darkened room and mused on whatever struck her fancy. Sometimes she'd think of the day past and other times the future. Her thoughts tonight settled, finally, on the coarse young man who'd accosted her earlier.
Her wandering was distracted momentarily when one of the lamps, disturbed by the wind and quiet rain, flared and went out. She made a mental note to have words with the gardener about better maintaining the wicks. Still, with only two lamps burning, the light seemed more intimate and soft. It fit well with the softness of the rain. Perhaps she'd mention that the wicks required attention. Her thoughts returned to the young man from the market. Katherine had just completed bargaining with a jeweler for a broach, gold encrusted with emeralds in the shape of a winged dragon. Two perfect red rubies made up the eyes. She'd chosen the dragon because of its prominence in her family's crest. He'd bothered her in the market square with brash accusations of living off the backs of others.
Again her thoughts were disturbed as the lamp on the opposite side of the garden flickered and went out. The remaining lamp did little to illuminate the few blooms and tiny pools that helped her escape into her thoughts. Angrily, she resolved again to speak harshly with the lazy gardener. Her concentration shattered, Katherine set down her silver brush, quickly braided her hair, and prepared for bed. The heat, piped up from the kitchen fires two floors below, was a bit too warm for the night that was pleasant in spite of the wind and quiet rain so she propped open one of the doors to the garden. She removed her dressing gown and shivered slightly as the cool breeze caressed her body through the thin nightgown she wore beneath. She smiled briefly as she her nipples tightened in response to the chill. The sweet smell of the fallen leaves slipped quickly into the room. Katherine inhaled deeply as she climbed beneath the thick velvet quilts that covered her bed. Her thoughts drifted again as she settled into sleep, noting as a curiosity a slight shift in the air coming in the door.
In early night dreams Katherine again thought of the man in the market. She giggled in her dream at the fact that he'd made such an impression on her subconscious as well as her conscious mind. She let the thoughts take her back. In her dream he spoke to her in an altogether different manner than he had in waking. His voice was still a strong baritone that touched a previously unknown string; a string seemingly tied to several delicious parts of her being. The small part of her mind that sat back and observed and evaluated her dreams again smiled at the effect he'd had on her. A light (one of the garden lamps?) flickered across his face as he spoke making him appear mysterious and sensual. Katherine couldn't quite make out the words he spoke but shivered as his voice stroked the strings of her very soul. She felt her nipples tighten once more in her dream state. The tone of his voice tickled and teased around the pink areola and rising buds of her breasts. That small part of her mind was slightly alarmed at the realistic feeling but was quickly banished by the other parts that were relishing the touch. It flickered and danced and became the light of the lamps in the garden, warm and gentle it ignited other flames in her. She moaned softly in her sleep and the lamps vanished.
The quiet rain took their place. It was warm and wet lavishing her nipples. Where the lamps had flickered and teased it caressed. Where the flames were ignited it fanned and fed. The aware part of Katherine's mind forced itself to be heard. She realized that what she took to be a dream was not. Had she in her half-asleep state imposed dream thoughts on real touches? She gasped as she fought to waken fully. The warm, wet touch on her breasts stopped and was replaced by a brutal hand crushing down on her mouth as she drew breath to scream.
"I'd think about that if I were you." Katherine stiffened in shock at the baritone voice. Small wonder he'd been in her thoughts, he'd been in her room to coax them. "If you scream I'll have to hurt you to slow any pursuit. I would truly despair to injure one as beautiful as you." He emphasized his statement with a quick caress of her nakedness with soft fingertips. Katherine shivered as she recognized the touch she'd imagined was the garden lamps.
