“I think I just had this strange nightmare,” I say with more contentment than I planned. He sets the handcuffs aside. “What made it a nightmare?” He kisses my sore wrists, watching me intently. “I called you a god.” His lips rise in his next kiss. “Then your nightmare is my dream.” “Not your reality?” I rebut. He leans forward. “All my dreams are realities, darling. And your dreams are my dreams.”
