Chapter 7
Dream Lover





In spite of the argument and how upset she was, Irissa fell back asleep straight away, as if she were being pulled deep into a deep dark tunnel. Then, ahead of her was light and there were trees. A white figure stood at the edge of the tree line. She had seen the white wolf before. It moved towards her and without hesitation Irissa bent to greet it. The animal licked her hand and stared at her, mouth open. It almost looked as if it were grinning at her.





As she passed through the trees to the beach she felt her clothes change as always. This time, though, her hair seemed alive and moving and there was something growing at her brow. The black framed mirror was no longer on the beach, but was sitting beside the path. She glanced into it and realised there was a silver circlet adorned with a crescent moon on her brow. Ignoring the other figure sitting beside the water, she greeted her teacher and they spoke about the presence of the wolf.




The Teacher sat down and indicated that Irissa should do the same. Now she looked at the third person. Enrique Cappelli sat staring out at the ocean, unaware of their presence.

‘Why is he here?’ Irissa thought.

‘He is not. You must call him. Summon him, Irissa,’ said the voice in her head.

‘Why?’

‘It is necessary.’




It was peaceful here. Wonderful. The ocean swept up to him, surrounding him then washing away in a peaceful, calming rhythm. It whispered to him, gentle and soothing. Hypnotic. He could have sat here forever.

He paddled his hands in the water, feeling it trickle through his fingers. He felt the urge to giggle like a child. He could not remember a time when he had felt so much at ease. He could let this water sweep him away...

Then the sound of the waves became a voice, a female voice, soft like the whisper of the water, calling his name. He felt her presence there on the beach with him. Irissa.

‘Will you come to me? Here? Now? I need your help.’

‘Anywhere you want...’ he answered serenely.

Then he was beside her, still on a beach. They stood within a circle. He knew enough of Rowena’s activities to understand its significance. She looked different. He took her hands in his.

‘Command me,’ he teased, comfortably.

He was dreaming and she was here and anything was possible.







‘Do you want to be here, Enrique? Khalil says that there is need of a binding between us,’ she whispered.

‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,’ he replied.

The man Khalil moved between them and placed his hand on the cover of the book in the centre of the circle. His deep voice chanted in a language Enrique did not understand. Then he moved to the north quarter of the circle and made a call in the same language. He made a similar call at the other three quarters before returning to the altar.

Irissa raised her arms and called to the ‘Lord and Lady’ to attend the rites. Enrique watched everything they did with the same serenity he had felt beside the water.

Khalil spoke again and this time Enrique understood his words.

‘Now hear ye the words of the Great Goddess, she who called of old Artemis, Astarte......’





The rhythm of their voices was compelling and hypnotic, first Khalil speaking, then Irissa. Something was building within the circle, energy flowing between the three of them, forming threads and ties.
Ties that seared through his blood and mind, spreading warmth and contentment, intensifying emotions already there...








Then there was Irissa and nothing else. Enrique reached for her and drew her into his arms, pressing his lips against her forehead. He stroked her soft dark hair, breathed in the scent of her skin....





...Then stepped back and moved her gently away from him.

‘This isn’t right,’ he whispered. ‘I’m too old.... you are too young...’





‘Flatterer,’ she teased gently.

‘Oh my God, Irissa....’ he reached out to touch her, to see if this was real, but of course, it wasn’t and anything was possible.

They were outside the circle and he was reaching for her, feeling her move towards him. She was hesitant, uncertain as he drew her close to him.


Then he was kissing her and damn, there had never been a dream like this. Her lips were soft but eager on his and he could taste her, a faint flavour of cinnamon and honey in her mouth from the desert he remembered they had eaten. The jasmine scent in her hair from her shampoo. Every sense seemed heightened and every touch felt more real than any waking experience her had ever had.







Then the world shifted and he was naked beside her on an ornate bed. He took her hand and twisted his fingers into hers, marvelling at how moon pale her skin was against his. Every detail of being with her was something wonderful to be dwelt on. He ached with wanting her, but was agonisingly afraid of rushing and ending this...

Enrique lay back and pulled her slowly down him, feeling her skin come into contact with his inch by inch. He kissed her deeply, his tongue gently exploring her mouth, touching the tip of her tongue. She said his name very softly and he felt the vibration of her voice in his mouth and throat, intense and surreal in this place of muffled sound.





Another strange, dizzying shift and he was looking at her from outside the circle. She was reclining on a low bed at the centre of the circle, half hidden by drifting swathes of muslin, a dreamy look in her eyes.

As he stepped into the circle she turned her head and smiled a welcome. Not the kind of smile he got from the women that moved in the Cappelli’s world. She said his name again and he heard it in his mind.






She extended her hand to him and rolled onto her back. Enrique lowered his body onto hers. He could feel the warmth of her skin, slightly sweat slick in the humid air. Carefully, afraid of hurting her, he pushed her legs apart and eased himself inside her.

The small gasp of astonishment he made was lost in the strange environment. This was real, more real than anything he had ever felt. She was warm and moist and sheathed him so perfectly. Then she was moving with him, her body in perfect synchronisation with his.





No-one, ever, had made him feel this good, this intensely. He thrust into her, desperate for release of the tension inside him, yet he was afraid of that ending. Of being separated from her.

As his pace quickened she was in perfect time with him and when the orgasm swept over him, crashing through him like the breakers on the rocks he felt reciprocal responses in her body. He found the strength to push himself up onto his arms and look down at her. Her eyes were closed, her lashes lying dark against her pale cheeks. Her lips were parted and relaxed and the sleepy, sated expression on her face told him that her experience had matched his.






Another shift of perspective and they stood once more at the centre of the circle, facing each other. Enrique could hear the black man’s voice in his mind, speaking the words of a chant. All he could think of, though, was Irissa and how much he wanted to hold her again.




As if in answer to his thought she stepped into his arms and tilted her face towards his. He kissed her again, deep and tender.

Sensing that his time with her was nearing an end he crushed her tightly against him, feeling the soft warmth of her body against his. He twisted his fingers into her hair as if trying to hold on to what he knew he was about to lose....





He was still mostly asleep and he felt her body beside him in his bed. She stirred slightly, murmuring in her sleep.






He pushed himself partly onto one elbow, seeing her briefly there as he felt her warmth fade beneath the bedclothes.

He sank back into deep sleep, alone now, exhausted from the night’s exertions which had left his body as drained as if they had been real.





He awakened some hours later, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. Love and tenderness for the girl Irissa.
An aching, intense desire for the young woman she had been in his dream. And a hollow unhappiness at the path his life was currently taking. There was also the thought that he would never be able look at her again without remembering how she had been last night. Thank heaven she would never know.





Irissa slept deeply through the remainder of the night, until her alarm clock roused her.

She sat up, confused. Somehow during the night she had lost her pyjamas and the cool air touched her skin like a caress. The thought brought a blush to her pale skin. She felt heat suddenly running across her body and focused on the need to reset the central heating timer.

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As she rose from her bed, though, pictures, images and feelings kept flooding her mind. Enrique’s face and body filled her memories. She could still feel his touch on her skin and the weight of his body on hers.
And the way he had made her feel.

Okay, she thought, if that is what it is REALLY like I can see why people do it.

Thoughts of the things she had seen and heard around her mother though, had always painted a very different picture of the relations between men and women. And that sort of relationship she could way easily do without.





As she began to dress she had three thoughts in mind.

Why had her Teacher thought the ritual and activities of the night so important?

How the hell would she ever look Enrique in the face again? Thank heaven he didn’t know that it had been a shared dream.

And, giggling to herself, after such an intensely orgasmic experience, could she really still class herself as a virgin?