Page 45 of Snatched By the Sandman

“Mmm…” I moan as his shadows thread around the corset strings of my white ballet core dress with loose fabric scraps for the skirts. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” I gasp as the dastardly shadows loosen the strings one by one, exposing my breasts to the mirror of Fae beings.

Mine and Morpheus’s reflections multiply and merge in the glass. Synchronized to the rhythm of our heartbeats, the mirrors echo our actions, creating a symphony of movement and light wherever he touches me. His hands cup my breasts, pulling me tighter so I feel his hardness grinding against my back since he’s a good head taller than me.

I take a deep breath as he scrapes his teeth along my neck while plucking at my pierced nipples. They pebble to erect buds. He smells of wild roses growing in a lush, deep forest with incense and opium smoke curling through the branches.

“Eyes on me, my wonder,” he commands, gaze gleaming with mischief as our surroundings morph to mirror their intimacy.“You know,”—he whispers, his lips brushing my ear—“we have an audience. I hope you’re not shy,” he refers to the Fae drawing closer, their luminescent eyes lost upon us.

Liquid heat gathers in my center as those shadows slice my dress down the middle and peel it off my shoulders. Morpheus is still fully clothed. Today, he is so sharp with the black, Renaissance-like outfit, adorned in silver eldritch symbols. The tunic seals to his skin, clasped to the lower part of his torso to showcase much of the bronze skin of his chest, slabbed with muscle. And his strong pillar of a neck. His hair is longer today, a few wild curls always escaping his ponytail and falling across his cheek.

So different from Nyxion. Morpheus embodies a young, cocky spirit. Carefree and confident in his power and control. As dominant and possessive but not in a dark, broody way.

His wings are so black and lustrous, so beautiful, they captivate me. Almost as much as he does.

Lifting my arms up and behind me, I skate my fingertips along his neck, thrilling in the corded muscle tightening and his jaw hardening.

“Shy? In this dreamscape?” I tip my head back against his shoulder and grip his hair with abandon as he pleasures my breasts with one hand and traces my right-side tattoos with his other. “Hardly. I think I look rather good from every angle.”

The Fae lick their lips, their claws crawling through the mirror to scrape my skin. I hiss from the invasion.

Morpheus chuckles, his hand sliding down the pink forest along my pelvis. “Flawless, every single one. But I think the mirrors might grow jealous of your beauty.”

“Maybe they’ll show us something interesting to keep them entertained,” I quip, my eyes twinkling with mischief.

Within the other mirrors, my bare skin reflects with a surreal, almost reverent glow. My butterfly tattoos erupt, andI gasp from their antennae tickling my skin, coupled with Morpheus curling his tongue along the curve of my ear.

Each touch surges ripples through the mirrored world, creating waves of light and shadow that dance around us.

When Morpheus’s fingers dip into my folds, my arousal drenches them. He overwhelms me. He overpowers me. I twist his curls tighter around my fingers.

One tug, and he growls, grips my wrists to pin them against the crest of the mirror, and bends me over.

I have no warning before he rams his cock into me from behind. “Oh, great fucking god!” I cry out from the impact, doubling over even more.

“Your worship is much appreciated. Give me more,” he says, voice deepening to a dark silk.

His cock is indescribable. At any moment, he thickens it, stretching and straining my opening and labia until they burn and inflame. Morpheus releases my wrists and holds my pelvis, his arm like an iron bar as he fucks me from behind.

More Fae reach their hands through the mirror, their eyes glinting eagerly. Morpheus grips my hair, fisting it before yanking it back, forcing my body into an arch and spearing me deeper.

The Fae palm my breasts and rub my nipples between their fingers.

“You make every fantasy come to life!” I gush as that huge cock follows my comment by vibrating, actually vibrating inside me. I scream from the first wave of an orgasm crashing over me.

“Every fantasy is a masterpiece when I’m the architect. And you are my muse…” he growls, ejects to the tip, and slams back into me, triggering another orgasm until I’m screeching and raking at the mirror with my nails.

The hand at my pelvis lowers to capture my pierced clit, working it back and forth. He fucks me slower, deeper, andbrings me to the edge of another powerful orgasm. Only to remove his hand.

“No,” I whimper in protest and try to reach for him, but one fierce tug on my hair warns me to put my hands on the mirror sides again.

“I require more worship, Zenya,” he says with a snicker.

“Um…” I bite my lip, my eyes watering as I try to focus on him, on his ethereal beauty and those feathered wings curving around me. But the Fae touching me, one Fae—a dryad with a tongue that reminds me of birch bark—kneels before me and swipes her tongue along my swollen clit. “You are truly a master of dreams, oh!” I whine from her tongue circling and even twisting around Morpheus’s dick, causing him to throb inside me. He alternates between throbbing and vibrating, all the while leaving me teetering on that edge.

“Oh, come now, little wonder. We both know you can do better than that.” He sinks his teeth into my neck, punishing.

“Oh, god!” I cry. More heat soaks me. “No one else can captivate me like you. You turn every moment into something extraordinary. You’re a spell I never want to break. Ahh!” I sob from the textured tongue swiping at my clit, long and slow strokes. “And you’re the reason I believe in magic.”

“Magic indeed, my love. It seems my irresistible allure has left quite an impression on you. Let us see how much more I may mark you.”

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