Page 39 of Snatched By the Sandman

First, I remove her intubation tube and kiss her with reverence and determination. The spell I’ve prepared is ancient and dangerous, a forbidden ritual that will bond us as fiercely as she is bonded to my brother, a bond that transcends the physical realm.

With my mouth capturing hers, I extend my hand, palm down, and channel my power through my fingers. My shadows shimmer with a dark but ethereal light. I place my hand over Zenya’s collarbone, where Nyxion’s hyoid bone will fuse within her flesh.

I whisper the words along her skin, my lips a breath from hers.

As the spell takes effect, the bone begins to glow and shift, fusing with the flesh around her collarbone. The process is delicate, intricate, and agonizingly slow.

Once Zenya’s soul accepts the bone within her flesh like she accepted my Eye, I spear my cock to the hilt. And groan from the overwhelming flesh of a mortal taking my godhood.

Fuck, she’s tight and wet from the mere stroke of my fingers along the right side of her body. It’s my first time taking a mortal…unlike my brother who tried this act with others, failing each time.

So raw, so unbelievably human—warm, swollen, soaked. She clenches my cock like a damn wet dream. Pure magic. Even if other mortals could take a god, I will want no other than her.

Nyxion was right about one thing. She is strong and dark enough for him…and bright enough for me.

“Shine…” I command her with a growl, pumping myself inside her in slow, deep strokes.

I sense the resistance of Nyxion’s power, his life force within his hyoid, the strength of his voice. But I press on with unwavering resolve. The room grows colder, the lights flicker, and the air thickens with godlike energy.

I grit my teeth and grind my jaw, withstanding the pain of this act contrasted with the unspeakable pleasure of fucking this wondrous little weaver. Buried inside her, seated to the hilt with her tight, hot, mortal cunt strangling my cock. Nothing fucking compares to Zenya. Nothing ever will.

If there is one woman worthy of going to war over, it is her.

When her back arches ever so slightly, her body rising for me, when her wet heat gushes, when her inner muscles flutter before she convulses, unraveling even in her sleep for me, the spasming pressure of her sweet pussy has me chasing my release.

I snap and spill my cum and all my shadows inside her, completing the hyoid bone synthesis. A macabre but flawless melding of Zenya’s human anatomy and my brother’s godly bone structure. She will not see it barely protruding from her flesh like an imprint.

She does not know how such alchemy, such magic will impact her—just as she does not understand why she can dream weave.

I withdraw my hand, the shadows fading from my fingers. The bond is sealed, pulsing with her heart’s rhythm.

For the first time, I see her—not just her physical form, but her essence. She’s beautiful in her vulnerable state. The sight of her stirs a deep longing within me.

With my final whispered incantation, I close my eyes and let my consciousness drift into the realm of dreams—returning to my brother’s nightmarish world. The hospital room dissolves into the familiar contours of Nyxion’s room.

With a devilish smirk, I trace a solitary finger along Zenya’s cheek and beckon within our shared bond…

Rise…and come with me, little wonder.

Without waking, she follows my command. Delicately rising, so gently, she doesn’t rouse my brother, Zenya sleepwalks, obeying my every whim. All she wears is a thin, sheer sheathe, so high, it edges the ripe curves of her lovely ass.

My wings tighten, feathers shedding from how much they bulge. My shadows curl around her, twisting in tender, beguiling wisps around her limbs. Zenya sighs in her sleep as she follows me to my room, for I can’t resist the urge to play a little in my brother’s own fortress.

So, I bid her to my room—a mirrored one to Nyxion’s—throw off my robe, and lay upon the bed, my cock already thick and hard.

With a heated self-assurance rearing within me and surging more blood to my indomitable godhood, I fold my arms behind my head, settle into the bed, and call forth Zenya.

Come, sit on my cock, little weaver. Take your pleasure.

Her whole body softens for me. Lifting her sheath, she bares herself. That pussy is already wet, glistening with her arousal. Swollen, pink, lush flesh. Like a flawless clam shell with her ripe, little pearl at the cleft of her femininity.

Oh, how I will give her a night of unparalleled bliss. I’ll crash my lips against hers, and they will be mad with love for her fleeting, mortal flesh as she submits to me. My muscles are as taut as a whip.

Mounting me with her strong limbs on each side of my waist, the flesh of her thighs roped with lean muscles from her adventures and skin patterned with the mosaic of her tattoos, Zenya arches her neck. And rubs her pussy against me. I groan from those plump nether lips parting to drench my cock with her arousal.

Her pierced nipples are stiff as pink pebbles, protruding through the sheath. Smirking, I lift one hand to tweak her pretty bud on the right side, savoring the little moan in her throat.

Lift me, my wonder,I must command, given how heavy and hung I am.

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