Ensnared by the Dream Lord (Dark Lords) (4 page)

“Put your lips on me,” he said, his voice a rough whisper.

Adriana thought she would explode.  She was spellbound by the beast nestled at the apex of his thighs.  She couldn’t imagine taking it into her mouth.  She would choke on it.  Horror and fascination mingled in her blood.  A pulsed throbbed between her legs—moisture gathering in her sex.

She didn’t want to, yet she couldn’t resist.

Mesmerized, she allowed him to tug her wrists and pull her forward.  His knees touched her rib-cage, the supple leather softly abraded the sides of her breasts as she leaned forward and touched her lips to the tip of his manroot.  The heat startled her first.  A clear drop of liquid glistened on the head, dampening her lips.  Without thinking, she licked it away, surprised by the faintly salty taste.

Morpheus tangled his hand in her hair, his fingers curling around the base of her skull.  “Take me in your mouth.”

She sucked in a harsh breath, opening her lips over him as he forced her to take him in her mouth.  Adriana nudged the bulbous head with her tongue, hesitant and unsure of what to do.

He groaned, clasping his other hand at her head, holding her still.  His hips moved, pressing him harder into her mouth.

She moaned in excitement as he forced it further inside her, filling her mouth, awakening a hunger she hadn’t known she possessed.  She suckled him, not knowing what else to do.  His hands tightened in her hair, pulling her scalp until it prickled.  She clutched his thighs, fingers grasping the tense muscles as he arched his hips and retreated, thrusting into her mouth with strong, shallow strokes.

He was intense, his taste addictive.  The tautness of his body echoed in her own.  Her sex drenched with desire, her clit pulsing with the rapid beat of her heart.  She could sense nothing but him—the crowd was gone from her mind—only pleasuring him existed now.

His cock jerked in her mouth and he groaned again, loosing his hold on her head to grasp her shoulders.  She stopped, looking up at him, wondering what she’d done wrong.

He leaned forward then, catching her under the arms, pulling her up onto his lap and above, until her thighs hooked over the arms of the throne.  Cool air tickled her parted nether lips, almost painfully contrasting the heat deep inside her sex.

Her breasts were inches from his mouth if he but dipped his head a little.  His hot breath whispered over her nipples, making them harden, the flesh tightening in anticipation.  She caught the back of the throne for balance, becoming a fleshly cage that barely held his passions in check.  He looked up at her, his eyes dark and unreadable.  His hands curled around her hips, touching her buttocks as she hung suspended above his cock.

He cupped her nether cheeks, fingers gripping her forcefully as he pulled her down.  His cock parted her lips, becoming a painful pressure against the edges of her sex.  She gasped at the shocking contact, her hips jerking in his hands.  He pressed her inexorably down onto his erection, his thick cock digging into her tight channel.

Her core clenched on arousal, cramping her womb with longing.  She clamped her fingers tightly on the back of the throne, her knuckles aching from her grip.  Her thighs strained to hold herself up off his member, but he was intent on delving her to the deepest depths.

His jaw clenched, teeth gritted as if he was in pain.  Adriana resisted him as long as she could, but the lure of pleasure pulled her.  She had not the strength to resist.  Giving up the fight, she allowed him reign.

He impaled her in one swift stroke.

The gathered crowd gasped in time with her hoarse cry of pain and pleasure.  Adriana rested her forehead against his, gasping raggedly.  Her insides ached from the forceful intrusion.  She was invaded but not conquered … until he began to move her on his erection.

She bit her lip to stifle the whimpers, needing to move on him, unable to help herself or stop the ceaseless motion.  She had to rock or she would die.

She flexed her thighs and used her arms to leverage herself on and off his thickness.  He groaned, pushing harder, until his hips were rising up to greet her when she came down.  She could feel her womanhood’s response to too much, too soon—the seepage of her cream coating her crevice in abundance, as if it could somehow ease the girth of his manhood.

Nothing could disguise that monstrous beast pumping her core, and the tight stretch of each thrust soon became a hypnotic madness she craved more than life itself.  Again the crowd disappeared, until her senses locked onto only him, thrusting, groaning, his hands digging into her cheeks.  Her clit throbbed in time with her wildly beating heart.  Her muscles clutched him in desperation.  Small whimpers seeped past her lips.

Burning, searing waves of pleasure lapped her insides, ricocheting through her nerves like lightning.  Her whimpers became cries.  Her cries became screams as an orgasm exploded inside her.

His cock jerked within the clutch of her muscles, spewing his seed inside.  She arched, throwing her head back, clutching his shoulders as she rode the rapture.  He kissed the hollow at the base of her neck, shuddering, closing his arms around her waist to crush her against his chest.

“You tempt me to madness,” he ground out, his deep voice gravelly, wounded.

Adriana felt the sting in her soul—knew she’d done something wrong.  She looked at him, met his dark gaze just as blackness swam across her vision.

* * * *

Morpheus withdrew from the dream, his psyche weakened beyond his ken.  He found himself atop her, between her legs, with naught but his breeches between him and the ultimate treasure.  Her back arched.  She was ready for the taking.  He could feel the heat between her thighs, smelled the light sweet fragrance of her arousal.

The scent curled his nostrils, drove his mind and body increasingly toward insanity—the crazed need to ravish and rape, to take what he had no right to take.  It would be rape.  She could never want him.  To know him was to fear him.  He’d ceased fighting his destiny long ago and embraced solitude.  Why did she haunt him so?

Was she so powerful?  Or was it his own weakness that doomed him to failure?

He buried his face against her neck, unable to prevent the thrust of his hips against her.  Pressure against his cock tightened, the blood rushing from his head to his groin, weakening his resolve.  His body and mind were in turmoil with the need to take her in truth.  Dreams had done nothing but heighten that driving need to desperation.

What a fool he’d been to think he could control her, that he could resist his own desires.

He was inches from plunging into her, his leather little barrier.  His fingers found the opening to his breeches, pushing aside the cod piece until his cock spilled out.  A single thrust would put him inside her.  He had only to move and it would be done.  What little resistance remained would crumble under that sweet lure.

She moaned, closing her arms around his neck.  No longer did she sleep.  She’d broken the spell that had held her in thrall.  Had the entire keep awakened?  Had he lost his power entirely?

“Kiss me, Morpheus,” she whispered, opening her eyes in the dark, looking at him blindly.  “Make love to me.”

The soft utterance of words made the numbness inside him disappear.  Her trusting, imploring gaze set his body afire.  One thrust.  One move.  One….

She writhed beneath him, spreading her legs wide, moving her belly until she rubbed her wet cunt across the tip of his cock.

His body went rigid, every muscle strained to remain still.  Sweat popped out along his pores, a sheen of dampness sprinkled his skin.

“Move not,” he said, groaning.

“I need you,” she said, whimpering, rubbing against him, clutching his shoulders.  Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him toward her, until his tip nudged her opening.

“Do … not … move,” he gritted out, drawing in ragged gulps of air.  Every fiber of his body strained against his will, making him mad with need.  She was so close … so close … so sweet and willing—for now.

He dragged himself off her, jumping from the bed, growling in pain.  He felt more than saw her sit up in bed, sensed her distress and knew he’d put it there.  He could not look back.  To do so would be the end of him.  He could not resist her again, and he knew that deep down she did not truly want him.

Morpheus leapt through the window, whistling for his mount.  Despair caught him mid-air and turned toward his realm, to his abandoned keep.

He vowed not to succumb to her summons again.  Even should it kill him.

* * * *

Adriana gasped when he leapt from the window, fearing he’d killed himself.  Something burst inside her, crushing her chest.  She jumped off the bed, rushing to the window, expecting to see his broken body on the bedrock below.  Instead she saw him caught by his horse and watched as he flew away in a stream of fiery light.

Sobs lodged in her throat, but she held them back.  Fleeing back to the shelter of her bed, she collapsed on it, shuddering with unexpressed emotion.  Her body ached with need, but it was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.  He’d rejected her.  She couldn’t fathom why he would resist her, not when he so obviously wanted to make love to her.

He’d resisted her in her dreams and tried to frighten and repulse her.  She couldn’t understand his reasoning for that either.  Nor could she understand why he wished for her to remain ignorant of his visits.  Sheer will had broken through and allowed her to remember him.

The only rational explanation she could come up with was that he was trying to be noble, to not disgrace her.  She wouldn’t have it.  She wanted to be defiled, to be ravished by him in any number of ways, however he wished.  Adriana felt the need to be with him so deeply, so profoundly it was more than a need—he was a balm to her soul.  He needed her as much as she needed him.  His loneliness echoed in her heart, irresistible.

Too upset, she couldn’t sleep after he’d left.  She lit a candle and paced the room, discovering he’d abandoned his cloak and gloves.  She gathered them into her arms, wondering for a wild moment what to do with them, where she could hide them that they could not be discovered.

She stood with them hugged to her chest, looking around her small room.  His scent lingered on the cloak, warming her insides.  She calmed, bringing the cloth up to her nostrils to breathe deeply, reassured that she wasn’t losing her mind.

He was real.  He’d been here.  He’d touched her.

She sat on the bed, burying her face in his cloak.  Unbidden tears stung her eyes.  For the first time since her imprisonment, she cried.

Chapter Five

Morpheus did not come to her again.  She prayed for him to come to her, to love her, to forgive her foolishness, but no amount of begging would bring him to her.  Night after night she called him, until even her dreams offered no respite from the nagging emptiness that consumed her when he did not come.

She grew despondent.  Her father noticed the change in her mood, and it broke his heart.

John Bordeaux pulled a chair up beside her bed, gathering her lax hand into his cool, dry palm.  He kissed the back of it, and she felt the dampness of tears.

“My daughter, pray, forgive me.  I sought only to protect you.  What must I do to make you happy once more?”

Adriana could not look at him.  Her mind was full of Morpheus and his suffering.  She could bear no one else’s.  “Leave me to my sorrow,” she murmured, pulling her hand free.  She turned onto her side, putting her back to him.

“Your door has been unlocked and unbound this week past, and yet you will not move from your room.  What must I do?”  His voice broke.  She could hear the exhaustion in it, the years that had piled onto his stooped shoulders.

Despair was killing him as surely as it did her.

She couldn’t leave though.  What if Morpheus returned and couldn’t find her?  One moment away from her room would be all it would take.  She couldn’t miss him if he came back.  And happiness did not exist for her if he was not in her arms.

But her poor father … he was so old now.  She had to do something.  “Father, please go.  I can not bear your suffering.  I will try on the morrow to be better.”

He sniffed and cleared his throat.  The chair scraped the floor as he stood.  He bent over her and kissed her temple before straightening.  “There’s my beautiful girl.  Try to get some rest.  We’ll take a ride tomorrow and see the countryside.  You’ll enjoy that.”

He moved quietly across the room and closed the door behind him.

Poor Father, he had no idea what she was going through, and she couldn’t bear to tell him the truth.  Far better to play at being her normal self than to break his heart, she thought.  One broken heart in the keep was enough.

Hardly had he gone when a chill wind burst through her window, fluttering the curtains and knocking out the fragile candle flame.  Adriana had rolled over to relight it when a voice stopped her.

“Are you the maiden, Adriana Bordeaux, sister to Lady Cerise Erlansson, wife of Lord Daegon Erlansson?”

She whipped around with a gasp to see a man standing inside her room.  The window curtains streamed around him in a brisk and sudden wind, as if he conjured the very air to his command.