Page 47 of Snatched By the Sandman

When he comes out and gives my ass a sharp slap, I fall to my knees.

“Fucking owned!” he curses, and I turn to get a glimpse of his cock, not believingthatwas actually inside me.

I love it. Every inch. Are all god cocks so beautiful? So huge and incomprehensible? I love how it’s a shade darker than his bronze skin, full of veins, ridges, and those piercings. He fists it, milking it of its cum, which reminds me of liquid shadows.

I hardly realize what I’m doing when I flick my tongue along the tip, but I know I have no fear of contamination. Not in his world. By now, the Fae have disappeared due to the shattered glass.

“Mmm…little wonder!” Morpheus snakes his fingers into my hair and shoves his cock deep into my mouth with abandon.

My eyes water. I gag and clench my eyes shut as I work to swallow it down. Bile burns my throat, but I’m able to swallow it down. He comes out to give me a slight breath before slamming inside again.

“So gods-damned sweet, Zenya,” he praises me while thrusting deep. And deeper. Always granting me a thin breath before starting again.

Just as he quivers and throbs with his impending release, Morpheus comes out, turns me onto my back, and sinks inside me, filling all of me.

“Morpheus!” I cry out and grip his ass, marveling at its firmness, so muscular.

He leans down and kisses me deeply.

The shards of the mirrors begin to reconstruct, fusing but also forming cracks. The heat of his lips makes the mirrors around them fog up.

“I think we should give them a show they won’t forget,” he murmurs against my lips.

Sweat breeds on my skin, and I love how he grips my wrists and pins them to each side of my body while pumping inside me.

I laugh, the sound ringing through the mirrored room like a melody. “Always the showman, aren’t you?”

“You know me well,” he replies, his voice a low growl of desire.

I gasp when he drapes his tongue around my right nipple and nips it, pleasuring it all the more with the piercing.

I meet him thrust for thrust, receiving him. Our movements became more urgent, more entwined, and the mirrors respond, the images shifting faster. Stars explode into supernovas, oceans surge and crash, and forests whisper secrets through rustling leaves.

My breath hitches as Morpheus’s hands roam my body, finding all the places that make her shiver with delight. “You realize,”—I breathe—“that with all these mirrors, we’ll have to clean up twice as much mess.”

Morpheus grins wickedly. “Who says we’re cleaning up? Let the mirrors deal with it. They seem eager enough to watch.”

Lips sealing to mine again, he lowers his hand and swipes at my slippery hot clit until I’m bucking and crying into his mouth. As our passion reaches its peak, and we come together, the mirrors erupt with light, reflecting our climax in a cascade of brilliant, shimmering colors. It’s like the entire universe has conspired to celebrate our union, each mirrors a window into a different aspect of our love.

If I can even know what love is…

Panting and entwined, we finally collapse into tangled limbs and sweat, the mirrors around us slowly returning to their previous states.

Morpheus sinks his teeth into my throat.

When he pulls out and falls onto his back, I rest my head on his chest, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

“Well…” I murmur, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips. “That was quite the performance.”

Morpheus chuckles, his hand stroking my hair. I love how he manifests a cigarette and aimlessly blows smoke rings into the air. “Encore?”

I laugh softly. “Give me a minute to catch my breath, and maybe the mirrors will come up with a new backdrop for us.”

“Whatever they come up with,”—Morpheus murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead and combing through my hair—“it will be perfect as long as you’re in it.”

He sends goosebumps all over my skin. And sets a brand on my heart.

I hope I never wake up.

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