Ensnared by the Dream Lord (Dark Lords)

by Jaide Fox

  Dismay filled her. “The legend—I only wished to be freed from my imprisonment. Drago Kadar rescued me.”

  Before she could say more, she found herself imprisoned against the cold stone wall of the main hall—though how he had managed it she had no clue—with Morpheus’ body pressing tightly against her own. Rage seethed in his eyes as he gazed down at her. “So you used your beauty to enthrall him, as well?” he asked, his voice a dark rumble of dangerous emotions. “You are very accomplished, my dear, otherwise he would not so lightly have dismissed my wrath.”

  As distraught as she was, it was clear enough that he believed she had seduced Drago into helping her. It pained her that he would so easily believe that of her, but she realized she could tell him no different. He would not believe her in his anger and it would be best if he didn’t.

  He desired her. There could be no other explanation for what he had done, but she knew that there was danger to him in it, even if he didn’t realize it himself, even if he believed his immortality would protect him. She had desired him and succumbed to love. It could be the same for him—and it would mean his death.

  She could not live with herself if she found that she was the woman of legend, the woman who would bring him love—and death.

  But how was she to turn him away, now?

  The answer made her feel vaguely ill. “He is—quite handsome,” she responded simply. “When he came, I knew at once that he was my heart’s desire.”

  Pain and fury twisted Morpheus’ features and Adriana ached to think that she had caused it. It took an effort to remind herself that it was far better to cause a little wound than his death. “Fickle maiden,” he growled.

  “I can not help it,” she said weakly.

  His eyes narrowed. “Nor your desire for me,” he responded evenly, leaning closer and dragging in a deep breath, as if he could smell the yearning she hid from herself.

  Despite everything, it took no more than that to make her body burgeon with need. She fought it, tried to close her mind to it. Slowly, he released his tight hold on her wrists and slid his hands along her arms, cupping her breasts in his hands and tweaking her engorged nipples through the fabric with his thumb and forefinger.

  Her heart thundered, threatening to suffocate her. “I don’t—desire you,” she lied, hoping he would simply accept and release her from his spell.

  “Every word from your lovely lips a lie,” he murmured harshly, tracing the line of her jaw with nibbling kisses.

  Need clawed inside her belly. Blood thundered through her veins. She should have been frightened by his aggression. Instead, she was desperate for his kiss. She’d longed for it, dreamt of his caresses until she was feverish. She tried to remain aloof, defiant, told herself she was stronger than this, that she could and would resist him, no matter what he did to her body….

  She barely registered his intent when he closed over her mouth, kissing her so hungrily it snatched the strength from her knees. His lips slanted, forcing her mouth open, for her to accept his invasion. A hand tangled into her hair, holding her still for his mouth. She whimpered, gasping at his ferocity, and his tongue, rough voracious, plunged past her lips to tangle with her own. His mouth was hot, hard. She tasted the anger in his kiss, like a ravaging storm. He caged her, his tongue spearing into her mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, allowing her no chance for retreat, no opportunity to escape. She bucked against him, wanting to be free, but his taste and touch drove her need to dizzying heights.

  Heat snaked through her. He claimed her with lips and tongue. Nibbling, gently biting, his hand holding her possessively.

  Her jerky, weak struggles seemed to strengthen his resolve, heighten his own lust. He dragged his hands down her body, eliciting her excited moans. He swallowed her protest, grasped the edges of her bodice, snatching it open. Cloth ripped, sounding harsh and alien compared to their all too primitive moaning. He pushed her dress down her shoulders, freeing her breasts to his rough, massaging hands.

  He continued his feast down her neck, burying his face in the valley of her breasts. She grabbed his massive shoulders, trying to steady herself. The stone behind her offered no support compared to the rioting weakness he created in her. She felt that any minute her legs would give out.

  Before she could so much as gasp, he was plucking one nipple with his lips, teeth scraping, tongue scorching and teasing the hard tip. He rolled her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, allowing her no respite from the onslaught of sensation.

  He hiked her skirts up with his free hand, found the slit in her pantalettes and tugged, ripping a wide hole in the garment that let cool air touch her feverish skin as he caressed her.

  He made a rumbling sound of satisfaction as his fingers slipped through her creamy seam, delving into her tight hole. She writhed helplessly, thighs clamping on his hand, chest heaving with ragged intake.

  She was free of any impediment now save the turmoil of her mind, and he paid it no heed.

  He straightened from his stoop and kissed her, crowding her against the cool stone. Her body reacted to the pressure of his rigid, muscled flesh with violence—a torrent of emotion saturated her insides. Desire flooded her sex, betraying her mind. Her pulse thundered like a stampede of horses, galloping desperately in terror and excitement.

  He dragged his rough hands down her sides, taking her gown with him until it bunched around her waist, fingers touching her as if reveling in her submission. She trembled, whimpering as he yanked her skirts high and found her hips, curling around her buttocks with a possessive grip.

  He bent his legs, pushing a knee between her clamped thighs until they parted around him. He lifted her, until the crux of her thighs cradled his hot, hard erection. It took him only a minute to free it and return his hands to her cheeks, cupping her, hauling her closer.

  His proximity seared her naked nether lips. The mouth of her womb watered in hunger, desperate for sustenance.

  He broke from her mouth, covering her jaw and neck in ravenous kisses, threatening to eat her alive, devour her with his passion. She wanted to beg him to stop. Knew it was useless.

  Her mind wailed at her submission. Her body cried for him to ravish her.

  She couldn’t control the creep of her arms as they encircled his back, couldn’t control the tightening of her fingers at his shoulder blades.

  He groaned at her surrender, ground his hips against her. Pleasure erupted from her clit, making her belly spasm. She moaned, mindlessly rubbing herself against him, wanting that thick length deep inside her.

  He tensed, gripping her buttocks tightly, rocking his hips until his cock seared her entrance. He clenched his jaw, his breath harshly expelling past gritted teeth.

  She went rigid, moaning at the invasion. “Morpheus!” she gasped.

  Her breathy plea provoked him. He thrust inside her, rending asunder virginal flesh. He reacted by going deathly still.

  She screamed in pain, pleasure fleeing, scarcely noticing the halt of his movement. It was too late. He’d ruined her body, destroyed whatever pleasure she’d derived from him before. She squirmed in agony, impaled on his rod, great shudders wracking her body.

  Morpheus ground out a curse, kissing her lips. She sobbed against him. He shuddered, running his fingers delicately along her sides. Magic, like sparks of lightning, sizzled across her bare skin. The pain vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving only the tight stretch of her muscles around his incredible girth.

  She tensed around him, ecstasy blooming like a fragile blossom. Impatience hastened his actions. He thrust deep inside her, yanking her flush against him, bearing her against the wall.

  The thick head and fleshly column stretched her to an overflowing, burning her. Exciting her beyond ken. He groaned her name against her lips, her cheek, kissing all over her face as he worked a driving momentum into her womb. Her inner muscles clutched him with desperation, agonizing pleasure building with each powerful stroke.

  He was poundin
g her, mindless to the bliss hovering just out of reach. She could ignore it no longer.

  His ragged breath seared her neck and ear, his savage groans making her shiver with excitement. Her sex screamed for release, nerves stretched taut, focused on attaining orgasm.

  She cried out his name, clinging to him as he ground his hips against her pelvis, so rough, so exquisite. Her clit throbbed until it was like a second heart beat between her legs. She tingled everywhere, her arms, legs, even her hair seemed electrified. Her teeth ached from the clench of her jaw, lungs burned to compete with the rigor of 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 gasped then, coming full awake. She turned to flee to the other side. He caught her ankle as she rolled to her knees, dragging her beneath him as he came onto the bed.

  He yanked her back, coming between her thighs, pinning her down on the bed. She struggled but he subdued her, thrusting against her from behind.

  “Nay,” she said on a gasp, grasping the bed clothes. “Free me,” she pleaded, moaning as he ground against her wet sex.

  “Only when I’ve had my fill of you,” he growled savagely against her ear. She whimpered, going rigid as he forced his cock inside her swollen passage. Her juices gathered, belying her words. She desired this, if nothing else of him. She moaned as he shoved himself deep, deep inside. More than he thought possible. Her cunt swallowed his cock whole.

  He groaned at her agonizing tightness, biting the back of her shoulders, wrapping one arm beneath and around her waist to haul her more tightly against him. Her buttocks ground against his pubic bone, her thighs clenched around his hips.

  She capitulated, crawling to her knees to push back against him as he withdrew and drove inside.

  He pumped her, his impetus growing, strokes short, fast and hard. He sucked a mark on her shoulder, simultaneously sliding a hand down to her mound to play with her clit. He found the small bulb easily—it was swollen and begging for his caress. He plucked it, groaning in satisfaction as she moaned and her muscled flexed around his cock.

  Too much. He could take no more. He pumped harder, vigorously flicking her clit until she was sobbing her climax. He groaned again, spewing his seed inside her, allowing her body to wring him dry.

  He rolled off her, his breathing returning slowly to normal. She immediately began fighting him, kicking his legs in a mad scramble to escape.

  Tired but unwilling to allow her the best of him, he moved to catch her yet again. There would be no relaxation around her, not until he’d secured her complete surrender. He didn’t trust that a spell would work on her as thoroughly as his powers had once before.

  He straddled her hips, facing her. She glared up at him, teeth bared, eyes flashing with anger and indefinable emotions.

  “Release me!” she grit out, pushing at his thighs until he was forced to pin down her wrists.

  “Never,” he ground out, moving down her body until he was between her thighs again. His cock hardened at the sweet, lingering scent of her arousal.

  He closed over her, trapping her with the cage of his body, holding her gaze as he thrust inside her hot, wet opening. She arched, tension radiating through her muscles. Her sex clutched him.

  The thunderous look she gave him drove his lust to insatiable heights. A desperate hunger gnawed his belly, craving the cessation of her resistance. He kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth, receiving a nip as reward.

  He ignored the slight pain, his tongue near matching the stoking rhythm he pursued in her silky depths. Within moments, her body echoed his need. Her hands clenched and unclenched, arms straining at his hold.

  He released her wrists, gratified when she didn’t strike him, but instead clutched his back with questing hands. He dragged his lips across her mouth, jaw, neck, breathing harsher as he increased his tempo, riding her until bliss claimed them both.

  He could move no more. Every ounce of strength had been wrung from his body. Still feeling the tremors of his climax in the jerking movements of his cock, he pulled free of her body, rolling to the side and pulling her to him. She was already half asleep when he touched her temple to place a simple spell on her to soothe the aches and pains he had wrought on her body this day so that she could sleep easily until morn.

  “So sweet,” he murmured, cradling her aga
inst his chest as slumber consumed them both.

  * * * *

  Despair filled Adriana’s dreams. It took no name. Just as she had oft known terror in her sleep without quite knowing why, this was no less powerful. When it became so unbearable that she found herself struggling to sob, she woke. Her chest was tight with unshed tears, her eyes moist.

  She struggled to thrust the pain from her chest until at last it eased. When she sat up, she saw that she had not dreamed that she had found herself in a strange place. The room she awakened to was the same as the one she’d awakened to before.

  But, perhaps, she thought hopefully, that part of it had been a dream? Perhaps she was in her sister’s home after all?