Dreams are the Stuff of Inspiration 

Last night while in Dorian’s arms, I dreamed of Nolan.

That takes a back story. 

Nolan is Dorian’s friend from the BDSM community. He is a full on sadist, but he’s also an arrogant asshole.

He is oh so gorgeous though. You know how some erotica and romance authors will describe their male MC’s as painfully beautiful, or some other weird description like that?

Nolan is one of those guys. He’s attractive to the point where you just can’t look at him. Because you can see it in his eyes as yours lock with his. He knows he’s attractive enough to turn a woman on with a glance, he knows you’re attracted to him like most women are, and he’s wondering if you’re willing to risk a tumble with a sadist to see if the rumours of his sexual prowess are true.

My…method… of dealing with Nolan actually drives him nuts. I know he’s out of my league, but he also doesn’t like women ignoring him. He has to be the centre of attention at all times. 

He doesn’t often speak to women. We’re objects to him, I suppose. 

The types of women he draws in are model hot, lithe little things that are either masochistic or willing to be pushed to their limits because they heard that sex with him is painfully delightful.

In short, most women would do anything to be his toy for a night.

And last night I dreamed of him. We were at Dorian’s in the dream and he got called into work. So Nolan and I saw Dorian out and I went back in to lock up. Nolan followed me and halfway into the apartment physically picked me up and took me to bed.

He kissed, he teased, and then my mind kind of did a double take and I pushed him away as he tried to continue. My whole body told me to submit even as the words came out of my mouth.

“No, it’s not fair to Dorian.”

And I woke up as he smiled that odd smile of his. The little lopsided, completely evil, obviously plotting your slow, tortuous, orgasm smile of his.

So I woke Dorian up in a panic. I was still caught half asleep and didn’t even remember it until this morning when he reminded me. But apparently I confessed to having just been with Nolan moments before and how he had done everything and I was taken for a moment but only a moment. He patted my head and told me that if I saw Nolan again before morning, I should take advantage of his attention.

Oh Dorian, you are so cruel. Because I immediately fell into the same dream and went through my usual day and at the end of it, found myself somehow alone with Nolan once more. 

Who pinned me down and kissed me so that I couldn’t protest verbally. 

I woke with the desire to write. Dorian denied me that right, asking me about my dreams and then basically ignoring me. Well, not ignoring me so much as ignoring the predicament my body put me into. 

He likes to tease, but once every couple of months I get to explore being dominant. That day is today…

Why does Nolan matter, you might ask? Why do you care about a sadist who doesn’t even know he drove me crazy in my dreams? 

Because Nolan was… kind of… only slightly, the inspiration for Mr. Wrightworth. Of course Nolan is purely heterosexual and the base is very light. Very, very light. 

Like I would only say it goes as far as the two being sadistic. I just don’t think Mr. Wrightworth would have ended up a sadist if I hadn’t met Nolan beforehand.

For the longest time I’ve not touched on this because… well, Nolan’s a little scary in a hot sort of way.

Then when we met up with Nolan for coffee this morning, Dorian filled him in by starting with the dream and going from there. 

Because thats not embarrassing

Though someone had to explain that shade of red I went when Nolan sat down.

I’m never going to live this down.

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