God, what is he doing?

He leans down, stroking a finger across the hair covering my face. I try not to shiver. Why is he touching me like that? I swallow, and try to keep as still as possible. Axel leans over me and I hear him rattling the chains. He unbuckles them, and hooks his arms under me, lifting me off the ground. I barely have the strength to open my eyes, but I do, staring up at him. His are heavy and sleepy as he looks down at me.

“What’re you doing?”

He doesn’t answer me. He just walks me over to his bed and pulls back the covers, putting me in. He grips my wrists, unchaining them. My chest swells with hope until he takes my hand, and pulls a set of cuffs out of his beside table. He raises my hand above my head, and cuffs it to the bed. He leaves the other free. Then he moves down to my feet, and he untangles them from the chains.

I watch with complete confusion as he walks around to the other side of the bed, and removes his shirt. I feel my lips part, and suddenly they feel dry. His body is amazing. He has a tattoo across the top of his back, and one down the side of his ribs. Otherwise, his skin is clean and perfect. He lowers his pants until he’s wearing only his boxers, and he climbs into the bed beside me.

Why is he doing this?

“Axel?” I whisper.

“Hush,” he orders, and moves closer to me, so our bodies are just touching.

I’m pretty sure he’s lost his mind.

I wait, sure he’s going to realize what he’s done and throw me out, but instead, his breathing becomes deep, and I realize he’s drifting off to sleep. The moonlight from the window behind his bed shines in, illuminating him, and he looks so breathtaking it makes my heart ache for him. He’s beautiful in the kind of way most people aren’t. His beauty is dark and broken.

I feel my eyes growing heavy, and I fight to stay awake, scared to fall asleep next to a man who I know hates me. I can’t fight it, though. After days of being on the hard floor, the soft mattress is heaven. It’s those little things you take for granted, and sooner than I know, my eyes are closed, and my own breathing is becoming shallow. I yawn, and find myself sinking into the pillows. Maybe I’ll give in...just for one night.

~*~*~*~

“Fucking stop!”

I hear the pained bellow beside me, and I jerk awake. What the hell? I feel Axel’s body thrash beside me, and I turn my head to see him convulsing in the bed. His jaw is tight, and his body is covered in sweat. His back is arching, and...oh...oh my God. He’s got his fingers wrapped around his cock, and he’s stroking, hard and fast.

“Don’t,” he growls. “Don’t cry, I’m fuckin’ sorry...”

His hand works faster, and my eyes widen. I can’t move my eyes from the thick length in his hand. He has four piercings going around the base of his head, and his shaft is thick, long, and straining. I bite my lip, but his cries have my eyes moving back up to his face. Something is destroying him. A dream. Something dark inside his soul.

“Don’t make her,” he roars. “Don’t...oh God...”

“Axel?” I whisper softly, knowing that you’re really not supposed to wake people during a nightmare.

I reach over with my free hand, and I place it on his chest. His skin is smooth and bronze, and it’s covered in a fine layer of sweat. His hair is stuck to his forehead, and I can hear his teeth grinding, he’s got his jaw so tense. His hand works faster, and the muscles in his arms strain and pull. I run my hand over his chest, feeling the tension there.

“Axel,” I whisper again.

He groans when my fingers glide over his skin again. His hand is jerking so hard that his body is bowing.

“Axel,” I say, a little louder.

“Fight me, goddammit, fight,” he moans throatily.

Fight? What is he dreaming about that would involve fighting and...sex? I hate to think of the reasons why he might be so traumatized, and I know, whatever it is, it’s not simple. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. He’s empty. I move my hand down his belly further, and he groans deeper. “Yes, oh, God, yes.”

I clench my legs together, and guilt swells in my chest. He’s having a nightmare, I should be waking him up, not touching him...but it seems to soothe him. His body isn’t rigid anymore, and his hand has slowed down. I move my hand in a small circle over his belly, feeling the hard bulges of muscles beneath my palm. His body relaxes even further.

“Please,” he rasps.

Is he awake? I peer over, and see his eyes are still closed. I slide my hand further down, biting my lip as I feel his hand graze mine. I also catch a feel of the silky head of his cock sliding past my hand as he slowly jerks it. Guilt swells in me again, and I shake my head, pulling my hand back. What the hell am I doing? What sort of sick am I?

Axel’s hand lashes out suddenly, and he takes my wrist, pulling my hand back. I flinch, and struggle against him.

“Yes,” he rasps. “Fight me.”

Is he still asleep? I don’t know. I can’t tell. I pull my hand again, and he groans. He likes me fighting him. I feel a bolt of pleasure shoot right into my pussy at the thought of that. I don’t understand it, and I’m not even sure I want to. I can’t face that I might be as crazy fucked up as this man is. He tugs my hand toward his cock, and I squirm beside him.

“God, yes,” he says with a ragged breath.

He puts my hand against his cock, and I feel the pulsing length against my fingers. It’s rock-hard and warm from his own hand working it. He twists my wrist, and places my hand around his cock. I curl my fingers around the length, and I squeeze. He hisses, and his back arches. Oh God. I shouldn’t be doing this. What if he’s still asleep? That would make me twisted...