Pain.  It always starts this way.  It seems like anytime he visits me now, it's only for one thing.  I try to relax, allowing my body to adjust.

"Grrrrrrrrr," he growls.  He hardly appears human in these moments.  The sounds he makes, his glowing eyes.  His eyes.  Sometimes they look more human and compassionate.  Other moments they look more like a monster.

He flips me over, landing me on my knees.  His hand splays on my belly, bringing my hips closer to him.  He bites down on my neck and shoulder.  I cry out in pain.  My cries only add to his fervor. 

He rides me hard, than easy.  Than hard and easy again.  He is a master of controlling when he has his own release.  He was a master in mine.  It is as if he feeds off my energy when I reach my penacle.

He throws me on my back once more, his hands on my bottom's cheeks, gripping me so tightly.  I can feel his claws puncturing my skin as he moves his hips in a circular motion inside mine.  I give him my surrender.  I let his body do what it may. 

In this place, I can see the glowing of his heart.  It is not shining so bright as of late.  He has a stain in his heart.   It's glowing larger, making his light fade.

"What's wrong?" I asked, putting my hand over his chest.

His motions stilled, all but his throbbing member still inside of me.  He shuddered.  I understood now.  He was afraid.

"I can't save them," he said.

"What?"

"I can't save them!"

His body began to move so fast, it was all I could do but to hang on and whether the storm.  We were both so close to our reaching point.

The blaring of my alarm clock began to wake me.

"No!  Don't leave me!" he cried.

"Forgive me," I pleaded.  It was already too late.  The place of my dreams fade away, along with my lover's embrace.

"Nooooooooooo...."

His voice diminishes  as I opened my eyes, alone in my bed.  My head turns toward the alarm clock.  Never have I ever been so angry at this cursed thing.  I want to throw it against the wall and shatter it into a million pieces.  Instead I turn it off, and immediately try to take care of my own needs. 

It wasn't the same when it wasn't with him.  I can never reach the same satisfaction without him.  My hips rise of their own accord, my free hand knotting up into a fist at my sheets.  I moan as I reach my climax, my body falling back down.  I do my best to just breathe.  For just a moment, I turn to my pillow and cry.  I wonder where my dream lover is.  In my dreams, he calls me his "Dream Goddess."  In those rare moments we talk that is.

I wonder if he is filled with the same longing as me, if he is even real.  I wonder how much longer I must remain this way.  Will I ever find him?  And if I do, what then?

I rise out of bed.  None of this matters anyway.  For now, I have a job to do.  I head for my shower and begin to get ready for my day.