his loving and her excited breathing.
Pleasure bloomed, radiating from her center until every muscle went rigid. She bucked against him, digging her nails into his shoulders. He arched his back, groaning as his cock jerked violently and semen burst inside her, coating her womb, his jerky movements setting off a chain reaction of climaxes erupting through her sex.
Adriana couldn’t fight the feeling, so hard won, bliss so brutal to her mind. She should’ve fought him more, shouldn’t have enjoyed herself. The orgasm seeped into her every nerve, leaving her weak as it spiraled out of control.
Only the pin of his body held her aloft now. She was spent. Achy. Bruised by rapture.
Chapter Seven
Morpheus found no relief in the sweetness of her body. As soon as his lust was quenched, his body and mind warred with each other, setting his soul into turmoil.
He’d hurt her.
It hadn’t occurred to him before that pure in body meant a barrier. He’d been too long without the company of mortals to remember the intricacies of virginal female flesh.
Before she could rouse from her blissful stupor, he touched her temple and placed a sleeping spell on her. He pulled his flaccid cock from her depths, catching her into his arms before she could fall.
He carried her upstairs to her room, his thoughts little comfort to him. He vowed to leave her alone and gain some time to himself to contemplate his dissatisfaction.
He paced the halls, his angry strides eating the distance with ease.
Morpheus did not find the peace he sought. He should have known, he thought angrily, that distance from her would avail him nothing. It had not before. Despite his resolve to put her from his mind, he had felt impelled to go after her. Now that he had tasted her sweet surrender, he only craved her more. As sated as he was, he had to fight the urge to return to her at once and take her again.
It was lust, he decided. He had not tasted the sweet agony of the flesh in so long that he had forgotten that it was a weakness he would do well to ignore. He had forgotten that it could so easily become a ravening hunger that ate at his mind and gave him no rest.
He had forgotten, he realized, because he had never felt anything quite like this, even when he had been mortal.
Feed it and hope that it would burn itself out, he wondered? Or starve it and hope that the craving would pass?
He was lying to himself to think for a moment that he truly had choice. If he had not yielded the once, he might have. Now, the choice had been lost to him.
He would satisfy his hunger for her then, whether she willed it or no. He would feed until he had quenched the fire in his body and mind and then she could go with his blessing.
He did not care that she was as repelled by him as all the others had been, he thought furiously. It mattered not that she felt no softness in her heart for him. He did not need more than her lust, and he knew she felt that—against her will—but it was there. He had only to touch her and he could tap into that desire to feel his possession.
Leaving her for this long ate into his soul. He spun on his heel, returning to her room. Already his body went hard with longing, his cock straining against his breeches and hungrily demanding more.
He strode into her room. His groin tightened at the sight of her sprawled on the bed, nearly naked, her hair spilling over her chest and neck like rivulets of wine. He wanted to sup of her lips, taste the nectar of her body and her inevitable surrender.
Lifting the spell as he neared the bed, he cast off his jerkin with impatience. Her eyelids fluttered open, drowsiness retarding her reaction to his presence. He stopped in his progression only long enough to rid himself of his pants, so that nothing could keep the softness of her skin from his flesh.
She
Pleasure bloomed, radiating from her center until every muscle went rigid. She bucked against him, digging her nails into his shoulders. He arched his back, groaning as his cock jerked violently and semen burst inside her, coating her womb, his jerky movements setting off a chain reaction of climaxes erupting through her sex.
Adriana couldn’t fight the feeling, so hard won, bliss so brutal to her mind. She should’ve fought him more, shouldn’t have enjoyed herself. The orgasm seeped into her every nerve, leaving her weak as it spiraled out of control.
Only the pin of his body held her aloft now. She was spent. Achy. Bruised by rapture.
Chapter Seven
Morpheus found no relief in the sweetness of her body. As soon as his lust was quenched, his body and mind warred with each other, setting his soul into turmoil.
He’d hurt her.
It hadn’t occurred to him before that pure in body meant a barrier. He’d been too long without the company of mortals to remember the intricacies of virginal female flesh.
Before she could rouse from her blissful stupor, he touched her temple and placed a sleeping spell on her. He pulled his flaccid cock from her depths, catching her into his arms before she could fall.
He carried her upstairs to her room, his thoughts little comfort to him. He vowed to leave her alone and gain some time to himself to contemplate his dissatisfaction.
He paced the halls, his angry strides eating the distance with ease.
Morpheus did not find the peace he sought. He should have known, he thought angrily, that distance from her would avail him nothing. It had not before. Despite his resolve to put her from his mind, he had felt impelled to go after her. Now that he had tasted her sweet surrender, he only craved her more. As sated as he was, he had to fight the urge to return to her at once and take her again.
It was lust, he decided. He had not tasted the sweet agony of the flesh in so long that he had forgotten that it was a weakness he would do well to ignore. He had forgotten that it could so easily become a ravening hunger that ate at his mind and gave him no rest.
He had forgotten, he realized, because he had never felt anything quite like this, even when he had been mortal.
Feed it and hope that it would burn itself out, he wondered? Or starve it and hope that the craving would pass?
He was lying to himself to think for a moment that he truly had choice. If he had not yielded the once, he might have. Now, the choice had been lost to him.
He would satisfy his hunger for her then, whether she willed it or no. He would feed until he had quenched the fire in his body and mind and then she could go with his blessing.
He did not care that she was as repelled by him as all the others had been, he thought furiously. It mattered not that she felt no softness in her heart for him. He did not need more than her lust, and he knew she felt that—against her will—but it was there. He had only to touch her and he could tap into that desire to feel his possession.
Leaving her for this long ate into his soul. He spun on his heel, returning to her room. Already his body went hard with longing, his cock straining against his breeches and hungrily demanding more.
He strode into her room. His groin tightened at the sight of her sprawled on the bed, nearly naked, her hair spilling over her chest and neck like rivulets of wine. He wanted to sup of her lips, taste the nectar of her body and her inevitable surrender.
Lifting the spell as he neared the bed, he cast off his jerkin with impatience. Her eyelids fluttered open, drowsiness retarding her reaction to his presence. He stopped in his progression only long enough to rid himself of his pants, so that nothing could keep the softness of her skin from his flesh.
She
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