Dream Feelings Novels & Stories

I bowed my head. “When I wake from those dreams, I feel ashamed. I feel as if I have betrayed something sacred, even though nothing has happened in real life. I have not touched him. I have not even spoken to him beyond polite conversation. Yet in my mind, I have crossed lines I do not know how to redraw.” The priest’s voice came after a long moment. “Dreams are not actions,” he said. “They are reflections of longing, of fear, or of imagination.” “But they feel so real,” I whispered. “Sometimes I wake up and I can still feel the ghost of his hands on my skin. I lie there and replay every second, and I do not stop myself. That must count for something.”

Her presence in my arms felt strangely comforting, like coming home after a long journey. Though all this was just a dream, it felt real. My heart raced, knowing she had feelings for me. I held onto her, lost in the thoughts of what it would be like to hold her closer, to feel her lips against my body. The dream had me captivated, lost in a world where desires and emotions intertwined without consequence. It was a realm where my longings could be explored without the confines of reality. And yet, deep down, I knew that once I woke, the dream would fade, leaving behind a lingering sense of curiosity and introspection.

Exhausted, spent, and marked inside and out, I collapse against his legs. And then I wake up. The room is dark, sheets twisted and soaked between my thighs. My body throbs with phantom sensations—ass stinging from imagined spanks, throat raw, pussy clenching on nothing, drenched and aching. My nipples are hard and sore from my own unconscious pinching, and my skin is flushed hot. The air smells faintly of my arousal. It was a dream. A vivid, filthy wet dream that left me trembling and empty. Tears flood my eyes instantly. The loss crashes over me: Damien, his dominance, his claim—all fantasy. My subconscious is torturing me with what I walked away from, betraying me even in sleep.

It took so much out of her, and she was confused why she was now feeling like this. Once she had finish showering and drying off, she heads to bed. She slipped on a t-shirt and undies and climbed under the covers. She was thankful it was Saturday and no school tomorrow. She felt like she could sleep for weeks after her outcome and the intense after affects she had in the shower. As she drifted off to sleep, she saw him again. Dominic was in her dreams all night, they were erotic, they were sensual, and they were like nothing she had in the past. She slept hard and didn’t wake up from the dreams. They were like visions of the future, and they felt so real. She tossed and turned off and on fro

When she finally lowered her hand, her voice was unsteady. "Shared dreams sharpen with proximity." "What does that mean?" "It means that when bloodlines carry certain traits—certain sensitivities—the connections between them can manifest during sleep. The closer two connected individuals get to each other, the more vivid the dreams become. The more real." She met my eyes. "If you're experiencing what I think you're experiencing, then whoever is on the other end of that dream isn't just reaching out from memory. They're getting physically closer to wherever we're headed."

“The Dream-Walk: The final stage of the union. In the deep stages of sleep, the barrier between minds dissolves. The pair will share a mental landscape, seeing each other's memories and feeling each other's current burdens as if they were their own. There are no secrets in the Dream-Walk; the mind is laid bare before the mate. To dream alone is a sign of a failing tether or a soul that has not fully surrendered to the bond.” I tried to remember if I'd ever dreamed about Eilis cause I was sure I didn't see Eilís’s past. I didn't feel his worries. I was alone in my head, just like I had always been. If his soul was supposed to be in mine, then the door was locked tight.

Like a splinter you can’t dig out. The dreams kicked off three nights ago. First, just flickers—silver flashes, a voice sharp enough to leave a bruise, laughter that made his spine twitch. Was it good? Bad? Hell if he knew. Last night, though? Oh, it got real. That dream felt like someone else’s heartbeat was thumping right inside his chest. Creepy, but also kinda awesome. He’d jerk awake, gasping like he’d been drowning. No point denying it anymore: he had a mate.

Familiar in a way that made my chest ache. “I know this feeling,” I murmured. Mark’s voice lowered. “From where?” I swallowed. “My dreams.” The word settled between us. Josh did not speak. Mark’s hand brushed mine, not grabbing, not stopping. Anchoring. “What kind of dreams?” he asked. “The ones I never remember fully. The ones that leave me waking with my heart racing and my hands shaking like I touched lightning.” The ground pulsed again. Stronger. The air shifted. Leaves above us trembled though the wind had not moved.

The gentle sound of the raindrops hitting the roof and windows created a symphony of nature that seemed to serenade the sleeping duo. In their dreams, Mama Hazel and Theo wandered through fields of blooming flowers, their laughter echoing through the air. They chased butterflies and danced with the wind, their spirits light and carefree. Mama Hazel's dreams were filled with memories of her own childhood, of days spent running through meadows and climbing trees. She saw her younger self laughing and playing, carefree and full of wonder. In her dream, she felt a sense of nostalgia and gratitude for the simple joys of life. Meanwhile, Theo's dreams were a mix of fantasy and adventure. He imagin

In the depths of slumber, my dreams became a canvas where my mind painted vivid images of the day's events. Within the realm of dreams, the scenes unfolded, replaying the moments of tension and longing. I saw Beatrice's eyes filled with hurt, her confusion mirroring my own. The kiss between her and Alpha Duncan haunted my subconscious, stirring once again a mix of jealousy, anger, and longing within me.