🌴 Tropical Permission 📖 Chapter Eleven: The Nightmare
Ecstasy at the Edge of Fear
Chapter 10 of Tropical Permission becomes available to everyone at 4 pm ET today (7/25). This chapter will be available this Sunday, July 27th at 11 am ET. Chapter 12 will drop for paid subscribers Monday at 11 am ET. Consider an upgrade to paid to support my writing and read Chapters 10 & 11 right away! - L.H.
Sleep took Diane like a rip current, dragged under before even registering her own exhaustion. The fan turned lazy circles above the bed. James’s warmth curled around her, anchoring her to the real world, until it slipped away.
The first thing she felt was the sudden, weightless heat of her own body, the impossible clarity of sensation. She was naked. Slick with sweat, thighs trembling, caught in the urgent, ecstatic tangle of two men. She was caught in medias res, literally and figuratively, the center of everything.
One man pressed against her back, strong hands braced on her hips. She could feel his calloused palms as he gripped her harder,
thrusting into her with a force, a roughness, that only made her beg for more.
Another stranger kneeled in front of her, his hands cupping either side of the back of her head. His hard length filling her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, retreating slightly, and then again, and again - relentlessly. She took it greedily, hungrily, gasping, gagging and swallowing, her head swimming in raw pleasure. Saliva mixed with perspiration and rolled down her face, off her chin, pooling beneath her as evidence of her insatiability.
Wherever she was felt cavernous. It was pitch dark but she was bathed in a pale red spotlight. She couldn’t see besides what was directly in front of her. But she knew that these men were unknown to her.
They had no names. No faces. Only bodies, only cocks. Unknown, unknowable, driven by animal logic, her body the conduit for their primitive urges.
The air was thick with salt and heat, her own moans harmonizing with theirs. She closed her eyes and felt the rest of her open up further, losing herself in the physicality, letting them use her, surrendering. She was voracious, shameless, delighted by the ecstatic intensity.
And then, just as suddenly, a cold shiver of awareness sliced through the sensual trance.
Where was James?
She twisted, tried looking past these faceless men, seeking him — his hands, his voice, the familiar presence that always grounded her, anything. What she saw was nothing. Emptiness.
He was gone. Absent. Unreachable.
Her faceless lovers kept going, rougher now. Their hands on her skin too tight. Their force and tempo too demanding.
Panic flooded her. She tried to speak, but her mouth was full, choking. She tried to move, but they held her down, skewered in place from both ends.
Pleasure curdled to terror, her dream body writhing in protest. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t escape.
Diane woke with a gasp, sweat-soaked and shaking. A cry escaped her lips.
James’s arms were already around her, warm and solid.
“Diane — hey, hey, I’m here. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
His voice was rough with sleep but steady. He pulled her close, pressed his lips to her temple, his heartbeat thundering beneath her ear.
She clung to him, breath stuttering in her chest, tears prickling at her lashes.
“I just had such a scary dream,” she whispered, her voice raw.
“It’s okay, baby,” James murmured, rocking her gently. “You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
She held him tighter, letting the comfort of his body banish the last shadows of the nightmare, her need for him sharper than ever — an ache, a promise, a relief.
Outside, the night hummed on, but inside the villa, everything narrowed to James’s arms and the slow return of her breath.