What Dreams May Come

What Dreams May Come Chapter Three (NC-17)

Disclaimers Apply

 

 

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse and Hamster Witch, I have a spare Sean running
around here…you want him? ;) ProPhile said that I need to write more
smut, so here it is. More smut. ;)
Readers/Reviewers: *blush *
Awwww. Really? *blush *
Thanks!

 

 

 

 

Kitty
chewed her pencil idly, staring out the window as the video droned on. She had
a sneaking suspicion teachers used videos so they could catch up on their own
work or even nap while the students had to sit through some annoying narrator
going on and on about cellular whatzamajiggits and thingamajigs. The taste of eraser made her wrinkle her
nose and break her reverie as she discretely spit the pink rubbery bits into
her hand and dumped them onto the floor.
This had better not be on the test.
I’ll die if this is on the test…
A flitter of motion near her hand made her jump then smile when she saw
what it was. Thank heavens for
Jean! She’d better have written the
rest of her date with Scott in there!
The paper was standard issue lined notebook paper, folded neatly into a
triangle that required some strange form of geometry that Kitty had not yet
mastered to fold. The first hint that
it wasn’t from Jean was the handwriting on the front. A florid, blue “K” adorned one side of the triangle, but Kitty had
the distinct feeling that it did not stand for her name. Oh, Hell. He knows. How did he
know? Can he read minds? Damn it!
If Jean read it, would she have told him? Oh! What if I talk in my
sleep and h heard me? She was near panic as she unfolded the note, her
relief palpable when she saw the short sentence scrawled inside, careless of
the lines. Meet me after last
period, down by the pier. She
swallowed hard, her throat feeling tight and her pulse racing to beat the
band. Carefully, she refolded the note
and tucked it into her sweater pocket.
Glancing quickly to her left, she could see him staring intently at her,
anxious for some sort of acknowledgement.
Forcing her attention towards the front of the class, she nodded once
and folded her hands primly on her desk.
What am I getting into?

 

Kurt was
waiting for her and had been for a while, she noticed. The grass was worn where he had been pacing
and little bits of blue fur littered his shirt as a sure sign of his
nervousness. “Kurt?” she said
tentatively after a moment of watching him pace, trying to work up her own
nerve.

“Kitty,” he
breathed, stopping mid-stride and pivoting to face her. “I was worried you wouldn’t come.”

“You’re my
friend, Kurt. You wanted to meet me so…” She spread her hands helplessly. “Here I am.”

He was so
close to her so suddenly that she gasped, not sure if he walked to her or she
to him. All she knew was she could not
break away from his gaze and he was piercing her with a look, making her feel
horribly, utterly exposed. “I know.”

“Know what?”
she whispered, unable to speak louder for her nervousness.

“I know you
dreamt of me. I know because I dreamt
of you. I do every night.”

“How do you
know?” She wanted to back away but
could not, her knees shaking and her breath becoming shallow. She could feel the heat emanating from him,
smell the faint musky odor that he could never hide no matter how hard he
tried, she could even feel the brush of his fur against her arms when he swayed
close. Kitty had the sudden, panicked
thought that she could not move because she did not want to move, and
that thought did not scare her as much as she thought it should have.

“Your
laundry, your smell…you talk in your sleep, you know. I suspected before but yesterday, when you were napping in the
rec room, I knew for sure.” She jumped when his hands came to rest on her
elbows, his fingers closing loosely around her. “I do, too. All the time.”

“Oh,” she
managed to breathe just before he kissed her.
She was shocked that Kurt was doing this, not because she was affronted
but because it was Kurt; shy, sweet, gentle,
hides-whenever-he-sees-her-coming Kurt was currently parting her lips and
tasting her mouth with growing need, murmuring in his throat as his hands
tightened on her arms. Kitty found
herself responding, her arms going around his neck, her tongue warring with his
for dominance in the kiss. Something
pressed against her back and she started, only to realize he had pressed her
against the exterior wall of the boathouse.
She gave in then, all urge to fight (what little there had been in the
first place) drifting from her like so much ether. Things were going so fast but she did not care, she did not want
to listen to any reason other than what her body was demanding and that was
Kurt. The grass was cool in the shadow
of the house and a little damp from early morning rain, not yet evaporated by
the sun. He kissed her everywhere he
could reach, peppering her face, her neck, her lips and even her ears with nips
of his fangs and urgent presses of his lips as his hands roamed everywhere
else. Kitty found herself urging him
onward, arching her back as he pulled her shirt free of her jeans, whispering
his name over and over as he paused, staring down at her with something close
to adoration.

“Katzchen,
you’re so beautiful,” he said, touching her reverently as if he were afraid he
would break her with a single gesture.

“Don’t,”
she said, closing her eyes. “Don’t say things like that to me. Please.”

He looked
hurt for a brief moment, then sighed. “If
that makes you happy,” he said, bending to tentatively kiss the swell of her
breasts, sampling her flesh delicately, his arousal obvious against her stomach
as she lay fairly trembling with nervous energy. Kitty grasped double handfuls of the grass beneath her as his
kisses became bolder, his shaking hands pushing aside the fabric of her bra and
exposing her to the afternoon air. She
cried out softly as he captured one peaked nipple between his lips, suckling briefly
before moving to the other, his thumb tracing lazy circles around the recently
abandoned one. Kitty became lost in a
pleasant haze of desire, feeling that this was somehow so right, so good, and
very, very necessary, despite her own muddled feelings for Kurt in general, the
confusion of friendship or something more.
She thought she would scream in frustration as he lingered long on her
stomach, kissing and licking and occasionally biting her to make her
squirm. Her eyes flew wide in panic as
she realized what he was planning and she batted at his hands with futility as
he unzipped her pants. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Shh!” he
cautioned. “Someone will hear us!”

This seemed
to placate her frazzled nerves for some reason and she relaxed back onto the
grass, closing her eyes in anxious anticipation. She gasped and parted her thighs at the first touch of his heated
breath on her skin, her desire pooling in her belly, making her want to arch
against him, encourage him further.

“Kitty.”

“Mmmm…”

“KITTY!”

Shit. “Jean?”
She opened one eye and felt the blood rush to her face. Jean and Amara were staring down at her,
openly curious.

“You slept
through half the class…we’re going to lunch.
Coming?”

She colored
even deeper at Amara’s turn of phrase. “Gimme
a minute.”

Jean smiled
slowly. “Looks like you’ve got mail.” She
picked up a neatly folded piece of paper from the vicinity of Kitty’s
elbow.

“Give that
here,” she said as calmly as she could.
A quick glance showed her what she hoped and feared—an ornate “K” marked
one side of the note. “I’ll meet you in
the dining hall.” She grabbed her books
and hurried from the room, not stopping until she reached the coat closet
outside the classroom wing. With
shaking fingers, she unfolded the note.
Meet me after last period, down by the pier. Kitty took a long, slow breath and let it
out. Okay. Not going to panic. Not
going to panic. Okay. Maybe a little…