come into my world and try to rearrange it? You have no idea what I have to live with. What I survived.”
Sweeping me up in his arms, he storms out of the room and up the stairs. Dazed, head spinning with the furious passion he’s released, all I can do is lay limply. I bounce, landing on a mattress as he throws me down onto a bed.
There’s no time to look around. My gaze is riveted to the male I’ve unleashed. Shrugging out of his black shirt, he tosses it aside. Next follows his worn jeans, revealing a stunningly aroused body.
“Oh my God,” I groan, the reality of what he’s about to do paralyzing me to the spot.
“You’re on the isle of fucking dreams,” he looms over me. Taking two handfuls of my cotton dress in his hands, he rips it from neckline to hem. “If this place didn’t exist, all of mankind would be screwed. Without sleep, you’d all die.”
The tattered garment is wrenched from beneath me to swiftly join his own discarded clothes on the carpeted floor. Mounting the bed, he grabs my ankles jerking me down beneath him.
“Morpheus, please…I’m sorry,” I plead.
“I own you when you dream.” He pins me to the mattress with his weight, ignoring my slaps and cries to stop. “Every single being everywhere when they enter my realm. It’s my minions that grant you dreams or nightmares.”
Not like this. Not with him angry and out of control.
A beat later he stops. That’s when I hear it. A quiet raw sound, like the pain he’s suffering is a still open wound. Morpheus sobs. It’s a heart-wrenching noise. The emotions that flow from him are as palpable as the storm I’d arrived in. Curling my arms around him, I stroke his back in a comforting gesture. At first, he’s stiff, but then slowly, he melts into my body, his fingers tangling in my hair as he cries. Tightening my embrace, I feel him shake, tears dampen the side of my neck.
“Shh it’s going to be ok,” I croon softly in his ear. “You’re not alone anymore. Just let it all out. I’ve got you.”
He breaks down completely at my words, his defenses washed away in grief. It’s not quiet but as if every atom of his being is screaming out its misery in unison. The sudden steady drumming of rain hitting the bedroom window joins his unhappiness.
“I couldn’t save them.” Morpheus weeps. “I wasn’t strong enough to even save myself. I wasn’t strong enough. It’s my fault. All of it.”
I hold him for I don’t know how long. Time passes unnoticed. It doesn’t matter. All I know is that it’s the right thing to do. Give comfort to a soul in torment. It resonates, echoes of suffering inside my being, and somehow, I recognize I’ve endured it myself. The rain continues to fall, reflecting his mood as I’ve noticed it do before. As if the whole place is so deeply attuned to him. Resounding with his soul.
Fingertips caressing a soothing rhythm along his spine, my lips brush his temples. I don’t anticipate him moving. The fractional sloping of his head so his mouth slants over mine. It wanders with exquisite care. With a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, he wraps his arms around me. Kisses are exchanged. Long drugging, transforming into something fierce. Tongues meeting they tangle and duel, our growing excitement vibrating through our bodies with need.
“You’re so beautiful,” He pants, trailing a hand from my hair along my throat, downward to cup my left breast. “The galaxies tumble; the universe expands, but even in the darkest of hours, starlight burns brightly.”
Moaning, I fist his hair, clutching the dark locks. “Morpheus.”
“That’s what you are, Robin. Starlight, so resplendent I can’t escape your glow even though I’ve tried.” Lips pressed to my throat, a thigh slides between mine, plaiting our limbs together closer and closer.
Something flutters in my belly at his lust edged words.
“Please,” I beg, wanting more. Needing it.
Morpheus refuses to take things faster. Instead he rocks against me in a delicious game of torment. His touch is hungry now. Roaming my body with male confidence. He squeezes my breast, pinching my nipple until I squirm. Parting my thighs, I grant access to the hand that glides lower. A finger slips inside my slit, a second joining it to pump deep.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans. “Your sweet little pussy is so wet for me. Are you a horny girl, Robin?