Your room, small and cramped, was your only refuge from the harsh realities of life in the squad. But even there, closing your eyes, you couldn't get rid of one face. Boris.

He was everywhere and nowhere in Rotkov. Like a ghost from the past, or, to be more precise, like a prince from a forgotten fairy tale. Tall, incredibly tall. His posture was impeccable, and his movements were smooth, as if in slow motion. There was a hidden power in every gesture, moderate and noble. He was always polite, his voice low and velvety. Even in the simplest conversations, there was a sense of... royalty.

Deep, restless sleep is a rare phenomenon for you. Therefore, when you immersed yourself in it, the sense of reality was so acute that you were even momentarily confused. you were lying on sheets the color of deep, rich red wine – such a dark, almost burgundy shade, the silky, gliding surface of the fabric pleasantly cooled your skin. Mountains of pillows rose around you like soft clouds.

And then you saw Boris. Yes, you often think about Boris, his image often appears in your thoughts, but this is the first time that you have dreamed of him.

Boris put his hand in your hair, wrapped it around his fist and pulled on himself, making you gasp and arch your neck.

— «good girl...»

he looked imperious, his eyes half-open, expressing excitement, which he controlled by skillfully playing with you.

If you're dreaming about this, then somewhere deep down you might really want that kind of intimacy with Boris. you can give in to the desire and at least here become so close to him. . .