Page 111 of Snatched By the Sandman

I hear my brother’s breath grow heavy. He does not seduce as I do. He does not romance a woman. He possesses and torments. I find life is a balance of both. Tonight, we unite our worlds in the new soul of one wonder of a woman.

“Morpheus,” Zenya whispers, her breaths leaving like tattered bridal veils.

I grip her fingers with one hand and cup her chin with the other, lifting her face to mine. “Good girl.”

Lowering her hands to her soft belly, I sweep in to capture her mouth, folding her lips back and loving the deep moan she sheds for me. I stroke her delicate back with the tips of my wings, treasuring every shiver.

Her fragility is mine to hold—and the purity of her soul. My ultimate desire is to protect her and unlock the beauty and serenity of my fathomless world to her.

I weave my shadows around her like a lover’s caress and say softly, “You are my dream, Zenya—as I am yours. Now, I must immobilize you. With my kiss of morphine and paralysis.”

Locking my shadows around her wrists and ankles and fixing them to the posts, I pull them taut until she is spread for me. Her breaths seize, her pulse like the beating of wings.

“Now, Nyxion,” I say with a nod.

Tilting his head like the predator he is, Nyxion binds her throat with his bone collar and attaches the spinal cord to the apex of the gallows. She must arch her throat to keep the collar from siphoning her air. A desperate gasp escapes, but she doesn’t protest. No, her arousal glistens on her thighs while gooseflesh buds all over her skin.

“Little wonder,” I hover my breath along her neck, rubbing my chest against her plump breasts, the nipples erect with her need. “My brother will drink his fill of you while I write my shadows upon your flesh. But you will not come until I command. This is our moment. He may pleasure you, but you will only shatter for me. Is that understood?”

“Oh, god!” she moans, her very heart trembling.

“Gods,” I correct. And pinch and twist her nipple. “Your punishment will be great if you come for him and not for me. Is that understood?”

“Understood!” she cries.

Chuckling darkly, Nyxion kneels before her and skims his skeletal fingers along her legs, raising all the hairs on her skin and brushing his jawbone and mandible along her inner thigh.

The moment he sweeps his tongue along her folds, I flow my shadows from my fingertips like liquid silk, swirling and dancing across her skin.

Chapter 41

“No matter where you are, you will always be under my shadow.”

ZENYA

“Painkiller” by Three Days Grace

“Imaginary” by Evanescence

It feels like a cool breath, a whisper of darkness rushing down my spine, followed by a deep needle-like pain. Like some cruel form of worship. Violence and beauty.

The extreme contrast is the liquid fire in my center from Nyxion’s masterful tongue. He’s taken on his god form once more, his intent to use his lips.

I clench my eyes and my inner muscles, working harder than ever to hold the orgasm back. Swallowing hard, I focus on the frost patterning the naked tree branches like veins of silver.

Morpheus traces intricate patterns along the right side of my body, each movement filled with meaning. The shadows curl and twist, forming beautiful, sinuous whorls that caress my skin, front and back.

Oh, gods, I don’t know if I can hold on. Nyxion’s tongue circles my clit while he injects one bony finger inside me. My inner muscles squeeze around that finger, desperate to keep him there. Just as those muscles start to flutter, he gives my swollen clit a sharp pinch, taking me away from that peak. It’s sensual torture, but I’m grateful for his pain to prevent the punishment. I’m certain he will have his own brand of torment.

The shadows are alive, wrapping around my form, intimate and familiar. They weave over my shoulder, down my arm, and across my chest, spiraling around my waist and hips, creating a tapestry of darkness upon my moonlit skin.

A long, slow stroke of Nyxion’s tongue has me shuddering, causing the collar to wither my air when I move too much. The tightness and breath thinning help with the hot waves of desire rippling between my thighs.

Morpheus’s touch is tender and firm, tantalizing me almost as much as Nyxion. The markings bear his essence, these exquisite shadows. His last act is to write a final, delicate line along the side of my face. The mark frames my features with an otherworldly elegance.

More caressing of Nyxion’s tongue, moving between flicking my clit and deeply tasting the fluids dripping from my pussy.

My connection with Morpheus deepens, a tethering of our souls. The shadows don’t just mark my skin; they embed themselves into my very being, a symbol of his eternal protection. A final surge of pain as he finalizes the shadow marks.

---