Page 35 of Snatched By the Sandman

He pauses against my lips, his full ones barely a thread from mine. He’s so beautiful.

The three Oneiroi are masterpieces of the universe. Full of black hole energy and the beauty of the cosmos. The luminous warm brown skin of the ancient Greek Gods—like radiant amber. Thick dark waves fall down the sides of his face to brush my cheeks. And those fathomless black diamond eyes.

Some might wonder how the God of Nightmares can be so beautiful. But I know better. His beauty is a mask—one that chills and haunts my very soul.

“Are you going to start fucking me?” I ask, my voice cracking from my emotion.

He crooks a grin, and I swear sunlight glints in his eye. “Are you going to stop eye-fucking me?”

I deadpan. “Never.”

“There’s my monstrous girl.”

I’m twenty-nine years old. Hardly qualify as a girl, but when he pulls out and impales me on his cock, the fractures grinding my soft inner flesh with unbelievable friction, I don’t care. He can call me strange, sweet, little killer, girl, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

“I will…” he growls and nips my earlobe, teeth sinking in until it bleeds and I whimper.

Unfurling his wings. Nyxion gives me the full scope of the dozens of corpses surrounding us. I choke on a gasp. My heart ricochets, pulse thrashing in my veins.

Nyxion fucks me. The God of Nightmares drives his hips to ram my pelvis again and again. The thorny vines slither around my limbs, biting my flesh again until my knees are pushed to either side of my torso and my wrists wrenched above my head. A corpse brushes his fractured finger along my palm, tingling my skin.

Deep, vicious thrusts first. The moment I flick my eyes to those corpses, he grips my throat and snarls, “Eyes on me, sweet dreamer. I’m making your nightmares come true tonight. Youwill give me your fears. I will take your fears and write them upon your skin until you show me your teeth and the passion in your brokenness.”

Another deep thrust. Another crushing of his mouth to mine.

And then, a scream splinters from my throat. Because the corpses are licking me. With guttural breaths and cold tongues, they lick me and send ice along my skin while Nyxion fucks fire into me until all my senses erupt with sinful pleasure. He holds me in his gaze as those tongues trace my tattoos and close their fleshy mouths around my breasts. Some are just gums. Others with chipped teeth that chafe my nipples and surge endorphins through me.

I’m so close to falling apart again, but Nyxion doesn’t let me come. Only he gets to cut my strings and shove me off that peek.

Hot tears stream down my face. Oh god, those tongues work magic around my hardened nipples. Threads of flesh dangle from some and brush along my chest, my arms, and my belly until I’m arched and twisting, begging for my release.

But when Nyxion tilts his head with a predatory twisted smirk, I realize he’s not done.

He pauses, throbbing, thickening inside me. “You loathe reality, little killer. Because reality loathes you. It can’t accept you. It can’t accept your paradox.”

I pant beneath him, too tempted to look away. Not for shame. But for the sick desire rippling through me from all the zombies stroking their wet tongues along my skin.

“What paradox?” I whisper, gazing at him, at the beautiful horror staring me down and ripping right through my heart and into my soul.

“The person you truly are. A creature of dreams and nightmares. Too fragile but unbreakable. A masterpiece of beauty from ashes. Darkness lives inside your soul, my girl of scars and stitches. But light, oh, fucking glorious light livesinside your heart.” He ejects to the tip and slams back inside me, triggering all my inner muscles to spasm. He quells them in an instant. Something so much more vulnerable when he’s fully clothed to my nudity.

Pushing me deeper into the earth, the God of Nightmares twists his hips and grinds his bone-hard dick inside me. “How haunted you are by your demons, but oh, how you love them!”

“Stop,” I plead in a whisper, not wanting to visit those demons even if they’re all around me.

“Your fears and fantasies, Zenya.” He spears those black diamonds into me. “So raw and alive since your birth and yet, so dead inside.”

Like you…I almost say.

He growls, glaring at me. “No, Zenya.” He slowly pushes through me, and I sob from the deep, slow force. “I have always been dead. I am nothing but a corpse who loves you and the emotions you give me. Because you are the only woman who could possibly take me. So give it to me. Give me all your fears. Together, we will turn them into beautiful nightmares!”

Something in me cracks. And surrenders. I’m imploding and spilling all my deep-rooted fears, bursting through my imagination, and crawling off my tattoos.

The corpses pull back because something is crawling on me. A scream catches in my throat, and I’m battling the vines—until Nyxion tilts my jaw upward and slowly begins to fuck me again.

“Trust me with your fears, Zenya. Let this nightmare love you with all his death.”

Closing my eyes, taking deep breaths, I relax my muscles and fall into him and all his darkness and depravity. I accept the skittering of the small spiders on the underside of my left arm—my tattoos brought to life.

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