Are you my horny girl?”
I whimper into his mouth, welcoming his tongue as he kisses me with skill. I’m nothing but breath, need, and sensation. His rhythm is steady between my legs. My senses reel as I grind against his knuckles.
“More,” I demand, fighting the urge to grab his hand.
Morpheus chuckles. “Tell me, tell me what you want.”
“I want to come.”
He quickly has me hanging on a thread between sanity and mindless delirium. The world around me implodes as I orgasm. Fingernails raking his shoulders, my back arches in ecstasy.
“Oh my God,” I breath. Clinging to him, he’s the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.
Eyelashes fluttering up, I find two swirling orbs of forever shifting brown staring down at me. Gold rings the pupils, turning the rest a molten amber.
“I’ll be your god. The only one you’ll ever need to worship,” he rumbles in his delicious accent. “Are you a virgin, Robin?”
“I…I don’t know,” I admit quietly. “It’s hard to know things like that when you don’t remember your life.”
Morpheus moves restlessly. The thick evidence of his desire presses against me yet to be satisfied. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I let him know its ok. I want this. Him. Now. More than anything.
He accepts my silent communication easing into me inch by inch, stretching me around him. When he slides in to the hilt, I can’t stop myself from moaning. Chest to chest, I can feel his heartbeat pressed to mine, smell the masculine scent of him.
My eyes flutter shut for a moment, my inner muscles clamped around him.
“Look at me,” Morpheus growls. “I want you to look at me as I fuck you.”
I meet his eyes as he pulls out and slams back into me. The opposite of how he’d pushed into me so gently moments ago. My gasp of surprise earns me a smirk. He picks up speed, his hips pumping, making the mattress shake beneath us as he fucks me hard and fast. I’m unable to tear my gaze from his face, the sheer look of utter pleasure written all over it. The bed creaks under the pressure of his thrusts, a delicious mix of pleasure pain consuming me.
Capturing my wrists, he keeps them pinned above my head. “I’ve been numb too long, my days filled with nothing but chaos. Moon dust wrapped up in silky skin, never apologize for burning so brightly. I want to be part of you even if it’s just for a little while.”
He surges into me simultaneously fucking me with his tongue and cock in parallel tempos. Responding to his urgency, I lift my ass meeting his every thrust. I’m sure he can feel my desperation to use my hands and sees the willpower it takes me not to struggle.
This stranger I barely know calls to me on another level. One I don’t fully understand. He’s like the drugs he’s addicted to, intoxicating, sending me into a heady sexual trance.
Morpheus’s breath quickens, his pace becoming shorter and sharp.
The intensity of my climax has me convulsing around him. His answering grunt of satisfaction and a few powerful drives has him coming in an explosive conclusion. Back bowed away from me, his lips parted in a howl of release.
He collapses on top of me panting, shuddering. Gathering him close, I stroke his hair and sigh in contentment. He should feel heavy, but he doesn’t. Neither of us speaks until our thudding heartbeats slow regaining a semblance of normality.
“Morpheus, how long have you been alone here?” I murmur, still flushed with bliss.
“A very long time,” he confesses softly. “My Uncle leaves the things I need so I don’t have to leave.”
Running gentle fingertips along his cheek, I trace the outline of his mouth, his chiselled jawline, then the outline of the fuck love tattoo on his forearm and the needle marks marring his skin. “Are you really the god of dreams?”
“It’s who I’m supposed to be.” His breath fans across my face with his whispered answer.
“I sense a but…”
Morpheus doesn’t reply.
I don’t know how long we lay there entwined. Drowsily, I listen to the sound of his breathing. It’s steady even rhythm, lulling me toward sleep.
10
Morpheus
Exhaling I watch the smoke swirl up above my face in the afternoon light. With only a twitch of my fingertip, I fashion a unicorn out of the floating wisps, watching lazily as it gallops and leaps before dissipating. It moves as fluidly as my pensive thoughts.
Lounging in my chair on the rickety old porch, legs crossed