Gentle fingers caressing her forearm lift her out of a deep sleep. A hot exhale on her neck plunges her into wakefulness. The dim green glow of her alarm clock informs her that it is just after three, but it does not provide enough light to see by. The feeling of being watched is strong, making the hair on the back of her neck stand at attention.
She is not alone. Her body refuses to move. Her vocal chords are not responding. Terror holds her frozen, but there's something else - something soothing, reassuring. Confused and curious yet still so tired, she struggles to keep her heavy eyelids from pulling her back into the darkness. It's a fight she's going to lose before bringing herself to investigate. She slips into a dreamless sleep, that is, until the following night.
* * *
She stirs awake - unsure of the cause - and it is immediately apparent that something is not right. It's too dark, much too dark. And that smell. Musky. Woodsy. Manly. There hasn't been a man in this bedroom since... since... Well it's been a while.
Turning to look at her alarm clock, she realizes her eyes are covered with a thin piece of fabric. She reaches to remove it and suddenly the room grows warmer, the air thicker, the man-smell stronger. Panic spikes her senses, breathing, and heart rate all at once.
Something holds her arms above her head, forcing her to reach towards the corners of the mattress. Straining against it only increases the pressure on her wrists, and makes her aware how sore this position has made her. How long has she been stretched like this, all four limbs restrained to fully offer her body to her captor? The question sends shivers up her spine.
As soon as her mouth opens to scream, a hand covers it roughly, only increasing her panic and desire to call out. "Shh... No one can hear you." His message should have caused more terror, but his voice and his presence are soothing somehow.
He watches the long, slender body bathed and pale in the moonlight relax. This serves as an opportunity to replace his hand with his lips. Her struggles beneath him as he crawls on top of her excite him, but they cease as she gives in to his passionate kisses.
There is something so familiar about him, but that's not the only reason she allows her lips to participate. She knows that if she were to slip a finger between her legs, it would come out glistening. How quickly her body has betrayed her. But this is just a dream right? It wouldn't be anything new to Greta. She's been with this dream-man before, but this is so vivid and...
"Ohh!"
His finger confirms her wetness theory as it plunges inside easily. Her back arches in surprise and pleasure, pulling hard against the ties. He seems to touch every inch of the sensitive flesh inside her. The desperate thrusts of her hips soon exceed those of his fingers, urging him to quicken his pace.
