Alpha Oliver

Alpha Oliver

Elizabeth Moore · Ongoing · 53.9k Words

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Introduction

It all started with the series of dreams Freya has about a man she had never seen before, from when she clocked eighteen until the night, almost two years later, when it all changed.

“Mate,” I could hear him mutter from across the club. The noise of the party people became still in my head. I thought I was envisioning him in my head, and I was going crazy again.
But as he came close to me, the excitement I saw on his face disappeared.
“Human,” He said angrily, his eyes turned dark under the lights.
Unsure what he meant, I went close to him to ask if he had the same dreams as me.
“Do you know me?”
“Yes, I do, actually. A weakling.”

Chapter 1

Freyja’s POV

I woke up gasping for air, my heart beating so fast that it felt like it was about to leap out of my chest. I was sweating profusely. My body was drenched in a layer of sweat that made my sheets cling to me like a second skin. What just happened? Was that real? Or was it just another dream? I looked around my room, taking in the familiar surroundings of my new home since moving out of the orphanage at 18 with my best friend. Everything seemed normal, except for the throbbing sensation between my legs.

I sat up in bed, still trying to catch my breath and clear my head. The dream felt so real, so intense, making it so hard to shake off the feeling that it was more than just a figment of my imagination.

In the dream, I was in the arms of a man I had never met before, but I felt so safe with him, like I had known him my whole life. We were in a room with dimmed lights and candles flickering in the background. He was kissing me passionately, his lips moving in perfect sync with mine as if we had been practicing for years. I could feel his hard body pressed against mine, his hands roaming over my curves, caressing me in all the right places. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before, and yet, it felt so natural, like it was meant to be.

As the dream progressed, things got even more intense. He started undressing me slowly, his hands trailing over my skin, setting it on fire with every touch. I could feel his eyes on me, devouring me with every glance. He was so gentle, yet so rough, his movements perfectly synchronized with mine, as if we were dancing to the same rhythm. And then, as if by magic, we were naked, our bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. I could feel his dick pressing against me, hard and insistent, urging me to surrender to him completely. And I did, oh how I did.

The sensation was overwhelming, like a tidal wave crashing over me, pulling me under. I felt his hands gripping my hips, his lips on my neck, as he plunged deep inside me, again and again, filling me completely. I moaned his name over and over as the pleasure built inside me, threatening to consume me whole. And then, with a final, powerful thrust, I exploded in a sea of ecstasy, my body convulsing in pleasure, his name a mantra on my lips.

In that moment, we became one, the pleasure building until it enveloped me in its crescendo.

And then, it was over. I woke up alone in my bed, the only evidence of my dream being the wetness between my legs. It felt so real, so vivid, that it was hard to believe that it was just a dream. Who was that man? Why did he feel so familiar, yet so unknown? And why did my body react to him in such a way? Questions without answers clouded my thoughts.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. It was just a dream, I told myself. Nothing more, nothing less. But as I looked down at my body again, still perplexed, there it was, the aftermath of pleasure. I couldn't help but wonder. Was it really just a dream? Or was it something more, something that I had been waiting for my whole life?

A man I had never seen before, and yet, he felt so familiar, like we had met in another life. It was strange, but happy at the same time. I mean, let's be real, who doesn't love a good dream about passionate sex? I couldn't deny that it felt pretty damn good and real.

Even though it was a little embarrassing, I couldn't be more proud of myself. After all, not everyone can say that they had an orgasm in their sleep.

What the heck was I thinking about? I cautioned myself. Why was I fantasizing about a sex dream? I took a deep breath to calm myself down. It was just a dream, I reminded myself. Nothing more.

Celine, my best friend, burst into the room with her usual exuberance. "Hey there, dream girl! What's going on?" she paused and then continued, "You look like you just saw a ghost!" she quipped, causing me to snap out of my trance.

I chuckled, her presence grounding me. "Oh, you know, just another night of wild dreams," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. But Celine wasn't one to let things slide easily.

"Wild dreams, huh? Judging by the look on your face, they must have been something else. Did your dream man give you a little too much to handle? I'm suspecting he's got a big dick, doesn't he?" she teased, winking at me.

I blushed, feeling embarrassed at her joke. "Celine, come on, stop it," I scolded, playfully punching her in the arm. I was not sure if I wanted to tell her how real this dream was again.

She laughed, her laughter infectious. "Alright, alright, I'll spare you the embarrassment. But seriously, are you okay? You seem a bit rattled."

Taking a deep breath, I appreciated her concern. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a dream, after all. I'll get over it," I reassured her with a smile.

"But you have been dreaming about this guy since you were eighteen, and that's almost two years ago. What could be. . ."

"Celine, this time is a little different. He made love to me, and it felt too real." I said solemnly.

Her eyes widened in interest. "Ooh, juicy! Do tell!" she squealed.

I hesitated, feeling a little embarrassed. "Well, it's kind of personal, but let's just say that it was... intense," I said, my cheeks turning red.

Celine grinned, nudging me playfully. "Sounds like my kind of dream!"

I took another deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. I seem to be the only one taking it seriously. "It was just a dream, after all. I'll get over it," I said, giving Celine a reassuring smile.

Celine nodded, her understanding gaze comforting. "Good to hear. Now, let's shake off the dream world and get ready for the real one. Work awaits."

As Celine and I left the comfort of the orphanage, we embarked on a journey to navigate the vast expanse of life on our own. We had been each other's pillars of support for as long as we could remember, and our bond was stronger than blood. We were more than friends; we were sisters.

My encounters with the enigmatic man began when I turned eighteen, his presence materializing in the most unexpected moments. His aura was protective, mysterious, yet oddly familiar. Most of the time, it was as if he was there to take what belonged to him. He would appear at the most unexpected times, always lurking in the shadows, watching over me. There was an undeniable connection between us, a bond that I couldn't fully comprehend. Somehow, I always felt safe in his presence, as if he was there to protect me.

Celine knew about my encounters with this enigmatic man. I had confided in her, sharing every detail of our encounters. She had seen firsthand the effect he had on me and understood the strange mixture of excitement and unease that he stirred within me. She was my confidante, my partner in crime. We stood by each other, weathering the storms together.

It was our first day of work at the CLUB ROYALE in New York City. New York Nightlife is packed with the hottest, jazziest, and glamorous after-dark action. It is one of the best places on Earth to be truly alive when the sun goes down.

We entered the bustling bar, and the rhythmic beats of music enveloped us, vibrating through our bodies. The air was thick with laughter, chatter, and the clinking of glasses. It was a vibrant scene, with people dancing and mingling, their energy contagious. We made our way to the VIP section, ready to take on the night.

"Celine, I've got to go," Celine announced, heading towards another VIP section, leaving me to handle my designated area.

The VIP section wasn't the easiest place to work. Eyes watched our every move, and the atmosphere was often tense, amplified by the presence of those who wielded power and money. Unwanted attention was a constant companion, an unwelcome aspect of the job.

Suddenly, the bustling energy was disrupted by a commotion on the dance floor. The once vibrant scene shifted into a tense tableau. My heart raced, my gaze darting to the chaos unfolding. And then, amidst it all, I saw him.

There he stood, his presence commanding attention. It was him—the man from my dreams. My breath caught in my throat, and time seemed to stand still. I was rooted to the spot, unable to tear my gaze away from him. The world around me faded into insignificance as my eyes locked with his, a flood of emotions rushing through me.

Was this reality or a trick in my mind?

It was as if the lines between dream and reality had blurred, merging into one surreal moment. The familiarity in his eyes mirrored the connection we had formed in my dreams. It was an electrifying encounter, and I couldn't help but wonder what it meant. Was he just a figment of my imagination or something more?

"F-Freya, what's going on?" Celine's voice penetrated my thoughts as she approached, concern evident in her tone. "Freya?!"

"Celine," I muttered, unsure if she could hear me.

"Freya, what's wrong?" She asked again, tapping me.

I turned toward her, attempting to regain my bearings. "Celine… He's here. The man from my dreams. He's looking at me!"

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