Page 52 of Snatched By the Sandman

Zenya bows to me, her back arching to meet me, her skin heating. Her mouth, her taste is like a dark dream. Like tasting the blackest and sweetest of honey. A hint of floral highlights that honey. I pause above her lips, heating my breath along her mouth.

When she blushes and bites her lower lip with a knowing smile, I understand she’s gifted me with the taste of one of my favorite offerings: lavender honey.

I lick my lips. Let us see all the many ways this little weaver may please me.

Not once do her hands stray from her pelvic area, but I take my Goddess-due to remove her clothes. A mere simplicity with her slight scrap of a top and her mini skirt. In this realm, she’s always ready. Far more free with herself than in the waking realm.

Her tattoos are her true mask. More than a mask, they are her expression, her freedom.

My fingertips taste that freedom as I roam them across her plump breasts. A lovely, and pert teardrop shape and size. She moans into my mouth as I find her pierced tits and tweak the erect nipples.

A flick of my eyes down, and I find her fingers whitening with her need to touch me. With a shrewd smile, I lift one hand and brush the knuckles across her cheek while hovering above her lips.

“Do you know the gravity of the position you are in, Zenya Alice Myre?” I sweep my knuckles down to her throat, learning the shape of its curve as she swallows hard.

“No.” She shrugs casually, lowering her lashes to a flirtatious half-mast. “I’m honestly taking this one feeling at a time. And hoping I don’t wake up.”

As much as I wish to refute her, to tell her of the Oneiroi’s war and show her the predicament she is in, I respect her impulsion and how she feeds on each moment’s addiction.

Why waste such a moment? Significant moments can come later. The lovemaking of a goddess and a mortal is significant in many ways. Especially with what I intend to do to her.

Nyxion and Morpheus have left their marks…by using one another. I will leave mine…but I shall only use myself.

Crushing my mouth to hers, I coil a hand around her neck, sift her hair, and capture the base of her spine to lower her to the warm, mossy earth.

I spread her wide.

Savoring her whimper, I lick her left inner thigh where black serpents merge with blood splatters. “This is your protection, isn’t it, Zenya?” I tap the eye of one serpent and lash my tongue at her pretty pink pubic lips….all the way up to that swollen pierced clit. “Your truth.”

She grits her nails into the gray earth on each side of her. “Mmm, they’re my magic, Goddess Hecate!”

The firelight gilds her skin until it shimmers. More moths come and marry with the fireflies in an otherworldly coupling all around us.

“How I will enjoy tasting your magic, my little weaver.”

“Oh!” she cries out as I suck her clit into my mouth, mashing it with my tongue before circling it with the tip. Each note from her throat is an orgasmic symphony all to myself. I appreciate the hint of cinnamon in the sweet taste of her divine femininity.

After rubbing those wet folds, thrilling in how she drips around them, I slide one cunning finger into her center. I take a deep breath as she clenches and gushes around that finger, savoring her passion and receptivity.

She bucks against me.

At the crackling sounds beyond us, I look up to find Zenya has erupted the bonfire until smaller fires have branched out from the main one. Like flames on invisible torches and the points of a crown, they hover around the bonfire—and begin to dance.

When tree branches crack and reform, I glance down at the dreamer and offer her a pleased smile. Her aquamarine eyes shimmer like a celestial sea.

“Do you like?—”

I crush my mouth to hers, showing her how much I love her creating crossroad posts from the framework of the trees.—honoring me as the Goddess of Crossroads.

Spelling three thick serpents into being, one to bind her wrists above her head and the others to keep her legs spread for me, I prepare to show Zenya Alice Myre just how the Goddess of Witchcraft can ravish a mortal.

Chapter 17

‘you’re insane’. Sure. I make no excuses for that.

ZENYA

“Running With the Wolves” by AURORA

---