As I press him closer, I sense the shift beginning. The space around us alters, and the hall disappears. I don't know where we're going, and I truly don't care. It's Matteo who breaks the kiss, eyes wide with surprise. "Where are we now? Edge, what is this place?"

I cast a quick appraising glance at our surroundings. We're in a bedroom -- which doesn't exactly surprise me -- and a damn nice one too from what I can see of it. "Beats me. Don't you know?"

He shakes his head. "No. Why would I? I mean, it looks a little familiar, I guess, but not really."

"Interesting." I take another look. The bed is huge. It completely dominates the room -- much in the same way the idea of what we're about to do dominates my thoughts. It doesn't take a genius to make the connection -- to guess which of us is responsible for that part of the illusion. Embarrassed, I pull my gaze away from it. Through an open archway, I catch a glimpse of marble and tile from what I can only assume is a sunken tub. Everything is decorated in rich shades of burgundy, chocolate, and gold lit by firelight from an immense stone fireplace, and if all that sounds like it might be a little over the top, a little too gaudy or girlie, I'm describing it wrong.

Because it's not like that. Not at all. It's just warm and comfortable and solid. It feels right -- just like all of this does. It feels like home, except it's nowhere I've ever seen and a lot nicer than most of the places I've been. "I guess it's ours, then."

"What do you mean ‘it's ours'? How can it be ours? That would kind of imply there's an us, wouldn't it?"

Again with the talking? I bite back a sigh. Having finally made up my mind to do this, I'd really appreciate it if we could get on with it before I come to my senses and try and back out of the deal. "Don't read so much into it. All I meant was that it's probably our combined thoughts that created everything here rather than just one of us alone."

He gazes around again. "So, we did this? Together?"

"Pretty much."

"With our thoughts? Like with the drinks and the pretzels and the clothes -- only more so?"

"Pretty much." I run my hands over his chest, getting a charge from the illicit thrill of touching him like this. I know it's okay. I know it's what we came here for, but it still feels just as wrong as it feels right.

"And it's ours? Meaning we can do whatever we want here?"

A shudder runs through me. "Whatever we want. Yes." His words echo in my mind. If that's not an invitation to sin, I don't know what is. Images fill my head, thoughts of everything that simple phrase could possibly contain. My cock pulses impatiently. I clear my throat. "That kinda would be the general idea."