EMMA'S DREAM

Meanwhile at the witches' community, the same time:

Emma was dreaming.

The dream had her clenching and opening her legs in reality, as she sought relief someway and somehow.

It was erotic.

"I can feel your hunger beating at me."

  Derek's voice was soft, seductive. His hands came down on her shoulders, moved lightly down her arms, traced the sweeping line of her back to her waist. Bare satin skin. He caressed the small of her back, the line of her hips beneath the gossamer skirt she was wearing, moved his hands around to trace her buttocks - to find she wore nothing beneath the filmy material. 

His breath caught in his throat, molten lava moving through his blood, spreading heat and fire to pool low in a hard, throbbing ache. She leaned into him, tilting her head back, exposing the vulnerable line of her throat, thrusting her breasts upward invitingly as she reached back to circle his neck with one arm.