Chapter 2: Ruin Me Like a God
The guest chamber…
The door closed, and the room seemed to draw in a breath of its own. Candlelight trembled on the walls as you turned toward him.
He was already there—close enough that the air between you barely existed. But tonight, something in you had changed. You did not wait for him to command the moment.
Your hand caught his coat, pulling him a step closer until he was the one unsteady, the one who had to look down to meet your gaze. The flicker of surprise that crossed his face was fleeting, replaced quickly by something darker—curiosity, perhaps, or awe.
“Tonight,” you murmured, “I don’t want you to hold back.”
For a heartbeat, silence filled the space between you. Then his breath caught—soft, startled, almost human. The flicker in his eyes deepened from starlight to shadow, as though the very night bent around your words.
He opened his mouth, perhaps to protest, perhaps to remind you what he was, but you silenced him with a touch. Your fingers found his collar and traced downward, slow and certain, until his composure faltered.
“You always hold back,” you said quietly. “Not tonight.”
He stood motionless, a creature of endless restraint brought to stillness by something far simpler—your will. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, roughened by wonder. “You have no idea what you ask of me.”
“I think I do.”
For once, he looked uncertain.
It lasted only a breath before he bowed his head, his hands finding your waist in silent surrender. His thumbs pressed into the dip above your hips, a familiar anchor point, but tonight the touch felt different. Charged. Less like possession, more like preparation. The air thickened, tasting faintly of ozone and the expensive beeswax polish on the ancient wood.
"You think you know," he murmured, the words vibrating against the crown of your head. His voice was velvet over gravel, a sound that always sent a shiver down your spine. "But the weight of restraint... it is not merely habit, beloved. It is necessity."
You tilted your head back, meeting the fathomless dark of his eyes. Starlight seemed trapped within them, swirling galaxies muted by the dim candlelight. "Necessity for whom?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the frantic drumming of your heart against your ribs. "For you? Or for me?" you persisted, a daring edge to your voice.
His eyes narrowed, a subtle shift in the galaxies swirling within. "For both of us," he conceded, as if the words were being pried from some depthless well.
"Then let me bear the weight with you."
Your hands moved to the front of his coat, fingertips tracing the buttons until you found the one at his throat. A slow tug, a deliberate unfastening, and his coat fell open, exposing the black sheer shirt beneath it.
"And tonight, I do not want you to pull out, Dream ," you whispered, your voice barely audible, yet filled with a determination that left no room for argument. "I want to feel it inside of me when you come undone."
He stilled, his breath hitching as if the very air around him had solidified. His eyes burned into yours, a mixture of surprise, arousal, and something else—something dangerous.
"Are you..." he started, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.
"Yes," you repeated, your voice steady, your gaze locked onto his. "I am sure."
A growl rumbled in his chest, low and primal, a sound you'd never heard from him before. His hands tightened on your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as if he could pull you closer, could meld you together.
And then, as if a dam had burst somewhere within him, he leaned down, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was raw and desperate and something akin to a prayer. It was a devouring kiss, a kiss that demanded surrender and offered none in return. His teeth grazed your lower lip, a sharp, teasing nip that sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through you, making you gasp into his mouth.
In the same moment, his hands moved, gripping the fabric of your gown, tearing it away with a force that was both brutal and exhilarating. The silk gave way with a rending sound, the cool air kissing your skin as the dress fell away in shreds, leaving you clad only in your chemise and stays. You could feel the heat of his gaze as he took in the sight of you, his eyes dark with a hunger that was almost frightening in its intensity.
A slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, and he reached out, cupping your face in his hand, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek.
“Say it,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through you. “Tell me you are mine.”
The words were a command, a demand, but there was something else in his voice—a vulnerability, a need that pierced through your heart. You hesitated for only a moment, then leaned into his touch, your eyes locked onto his.
“I am yours,” you whispered, the words like a promise, like a vow.
His smile widened, and he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. It was a claiming kiss, a kiss that staked his claim on your body, your heart, your soul.
His hands, no longer restrained, slid down to cup your breasts, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he felt their weight in his palms. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you, making you arch against him. You moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by his lips, but he heard it, felt it, and it spurred him on.
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with desire. His hands slid lower, tracing the curve of your waist, the flare of your hip, until they reached the hem of your chemise. He flicked his fingers beneath it, a teasing touch that made you shiver, then he was cupping your ass, lifting you, pressing you against the wall. You gasped, your hands reaching up to grasp his shoulders, to steady yourself, to pull him closer.
He lifted you effortlessly, your back against the cold stone wall, his body a furnace against yours. Your chemise bunched up around your waist, exposing you to the cool air and his heated gaze.
He growled, his voice ragged, his eyes never leaving yours. His fingers found you, found the heat and wetness that betrayed your desire. You moaned loudly, the sound torn from your throat, raw and primal, as he pushed a finger inside you. You gripped his hair, your nails digging into his scalp, your hips arching against his hand, urging him deeper.
"Morpheus," you gasped, your voice a ragged plea. "Please—more."
He growled, low and fierce, his eyes glinting like obsidian in the candlelight. Another finger joined the first, stretching you, filling you, until you were panting.
He curled them, touching a spot inside that made your eyes roll back and your back arch off the wall. "Fuck," you gasped, your head falling back against the stone. "Oh god, that's the spot!"
"I know," he murmured, his voice a dark, sultry whisper against your ear. "I know your body my love. I know what gives you pleasure."
He added a third finger, and you bit back a cry as he stretched you, opening you up. You could feel the pressure, the slight burn, but it was mixed with something else—something that had you writhing against his hand, begging for more.
"You're so wet," he growled, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles. "So ready for me."
"God, yes," you moaned, your hips bucking against his hand. "Don't stop."
He chuckled, the sound dark and dangerous, a promise of things to come. He increased the pressure on your clit, his fingers moving faster inside you. You could feel the pleasure building, coiling tight in your belly, threatening to shatter you into a million pieces.
"Come for me," he commanded, his voice a husky whisper in your ear. "Give me your pleasure."
You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your teeth sinking into his neck as the orgasm ripped through you. You cried out, your body convulsing, your walls clenching around his fingers.
"Dream, oh god!" you screamed as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing, your vision shattering into a billion starlit fragments. He held you tightly, his fingers still buried deep inside you, his thumb relentless on your clit, drawing out every last drop of your climax.
When your body finally went limp, he didn't give you a moment to recover. With a growl that was almost feral, he pulled his fingers out of you, and you whimpered at the loss. But then he was lifting you, turning you, and before you could blink, you were on your hands and knees on the huge bed, the silken sheets cool against your skin.
You heard the rustle of fabric as he undressed behind you, but you couldn't take your eyes off the headboard, knowing that, behind those walls, she was listening.
Calliope, your predecessor, your rival. She wouldn’t approve of this, of you claiming what was once hers—him, this room, this bed.
Fuck her.
You felt the bed dip as he joined you, his hand running down your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps. His fingers traced the dimples above your ass, and then he was spreading you wide, his touch rough and possessive.
You could feel the heat of his gaze on you as he looked down at your opening, glistening and swollen from his fingers.
"Look at you, beloved," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "So perfect. So beautiful."
You blushed as you looked back over your shoulder at him, but you didn't look away. You watched as he reached down, his hand wrapping around his length. It was hard and thick, the head already glistening with pre-cum as he aligned himself with your entrance. He rubbed the tip against you, coating himself in your wetness before he slowly pushed inside.
You gasped as he filled you, stretching you, claiming you. You could feel every inch of him, the ridges and veins of his cock as he slid deeper and deeper. When he finally bottomed out, he groaned, a low, primal sound that sent shivers down your spine.
He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, before he began to move.
Slowly, he pulled out, the sensation of his cock dragging against your inner walls making you whimper. Then he thrust back in, filling you completely. You moaned, the sound echoing in the room, a testament to the pleasure he was wringing from your body.
You could feel the tension in him, the struggle to hold back, and it spurred you on. "More," you gasped, pushing back against him. "Give me more, Dream. Don't hold back."
He growled, a sound of surrender and triumph, as he began to move faster, harder. Each thrust was a claim, a branding.
His cock pounded into you, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing in the room like a primal drumbeat. You could feel every inch of him, the way he stretched you, the way he filled you, the way he claimed you.
You cried out as his cock slammed into you, hard and deep, the force of it sending shocks of pleasure-pain through your body. You braced yourself against the bed, your hands gripping the sheets, your knuckles white with the effort of holding on.
"Fuck!" you cried out, the word torn from your throat as your body accommodated his, the sensation overwhelming. He groaned, a low, primal sound that vibrated through you, making you shiver. "Morpheus. Oh god. That's so deep."
He chuckled, a dark sound that seemed to rumble through the very air. "You like that, don't you, my love? You like feeling me all the way inside you."
"God, yes," you gasped, pushing back against him, urging him deeper still. "I love it."
Your voice was ragged, your body aching with the need for more. "I love feeling you inside me, Dream. Stretching me, filling me, fucking me."
He groaned again, his hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt inside you. You could feel every inch of him, the ridges and veins of his cock rubbing against your inner walls, creating a friction that sent sparks of pleasure throughout your body.
"You're so fucking tight, Lyra," he growled, his voice taut with restraint. "You feel like heaven wrapped around my cock."
You moaned, pushing back against him, taking him deeper still.
"More, Dream," you pleaded, your voice ragged and desperate. "Give me more."
He growled, a sound like thunder, primal and wild. His hips snapped forward, his cock ramming into you so hard that you cried out. The sound was lost in the room, swallowed up by the walls, the sheets, the weight of his body on yours.
His hand reached for your hair , fisting it, pulling your head back as he leaned down, his lips finding the crook of your neck. He bit down, leaving a mark that would bruise. You cried out, a sharp, surprised sound that was quickly swallowed by a groan of pleasure.
His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, his lips and tongue hot and demanding. One hand fisted in your hair, pulling your head back, the other snaked around your waist, his fingers splaying wide over your belly, before sliding lower, until they found your clit.
He pressed firmly, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that had you gasping and writhing against him. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck, his teeth nipping at your flesh, his hand on your breast, squeezing and kneading, his thumb rubbing over your nipple in time with his other hand's movements.
He was everywhere at once, his touch overwhelming, his grip fierce, his mouth hot and wet. He was holding you back, his body pressing you against his, his hands pinning you, his mouth claiming you.
His teeth nipped, his tongue soothed, his fingers rubbed and plucked and squeezed. You were drowning in sensation, your body a live wire, every nerve ending screaming with pleasure.
You could feel the slide of his cock inside you, the friction of skin on skin, the clench of your muscles around him. He was so deep, so hard, so fucking big. It hurt, but it was a good hurt, a primal, animalistic hurt that made you want to move, to writhe, to fuck.
"More," you begged, your voice raw and ragged.
"Please, Dream, more."
He let out a low growl, a sound of pure, primal hunger, before he began to move. His hips snapped forward, his cock slamming into you with enough force to make you see stars. You cried out, a high, keening sound that echoed through the room, a testament to the pleasure-pain shattering through your body.
He didn't hold back, didn't slow down. He fucked you like an animal, like a god. His hips pistoned forward, his cock hammering into you, filling you, stretching you, claiming you.
The bed creaked under the force, the sheets tangling around your limbs as you struggled to hold on. Each thrust was a statement, a proclamation of ownership, a testament to his desire. He didn't just fuck you; he claimed you. He marked you.
He pushed you forward, down onto the bed, your face buried in the silk pillows, your cry of pleasure muffled by the soft fabric. Your body shuddered with each savage thrust, the sensation of his cock pounding into you from behind overwhelming and intense. You felt him shift as he reached down, his finger finding your clit, rubbing, circling, the sensation electric and immediate.
"Fuck, Dream," you gasped, your voice muffled by the pillow. "Don't stop, don't stop."
He didn't. His finger circled your clit, the pressure perfectly balanced, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. You could feel the pressure building, the tension coiling in your belly, ready to snap.
"Come for me, Lyra," he commanded, his voice a dark, primal growl.
"Give me your pleasure, your surrender. Let me feel you shatter around my cock."
You bit into the pillow, stifling a scream as he increased the pressure on your clit, his fingers moving in tight, fast circles that had your vision swimming. Your body tensed, the pleasure building to almost unbearable heights, your muscles clenching around his cock.
"Fuck, Dream, I'm close. So fucking close," you panted, your body writhing under him.
"Yes, you are," he purred, his voice a dark promise. "Come for me, Lyra.
Give me everything you have. Let me feel you come undone."
The words were a command, a demand, and you couldn't fight it if you wanted to. Your body was already tensing, the pleasure spiraling out of control as his fingers worked you relentlessly. His cock slammed into you, filling you, stretching you, claiming you.
"Oh fuck, Dream," you moaned, your voice ragged, your body writhing under him. "I'm...oh god...yes!"
His words were dark and commanding, a delicious contrast to the soft, pleading moans escaping your lips. His fingers were relentless, his cock pistoning into you with enough force to shake the very bed beneath you until, suddenly, you exploded.
A guttural scream tore from your throat as your orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing, your walls clenching around him as if trying to milk him dry. You sobbed into the pillow, the pleasure so intense it was almost pain, your body still shuddering, your mind a whirlwind of sensation.
"That's it my love ," he growled, his voice thick with arousal . "Come for me, shatter around me."
He felt your body clench around him, the heat of your orgasm making him groan, the sound primal and deep. He could feel his own release building, the pressure in his balls aching, his cock swelling inside you.
"Beloved, are you certain?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, almost a growl and, before he could finish his question, you moaned into the pillow again.
"Yes. Oh god yes. I want you to finish inside me . Let me feel it, Dream. Feel you coming undone."
He growled, a sound deep in his chest, primal and raw. "Y/N," he groaned, his hips snapping forward, his length slamming into you with a force that had you screaming into the pillow again.
"My love," he groaned , his voice thick with arousal.
His final thrusts were wild, primal, each one deeper and harder than the last. You felt him swell inside you, could feel the heat building, the pressure mounting.
And then, with a final, feral growl, he came. He filled you with his heat, his seed pouring into you, marking you, claiming you. You felt it, the pulsing of his length as he emptied himself inside you, the heat of his release scorching you from the inside out.
Your body convulsed around him, your walls clenching and milking him, drawing every last drop from him. You cried out, the sensation of him coming inside you, of feeling his release, overwhelming and intense.
He pulsed, his length swelling and throbbing as he filled you, his seed spilling into you in hot, thick waves. As he finally stilled, he pulled out, his length sliding slowly from your body, his seed dripping from you, coating your inner thighs with his heat. He stepped back, his gaze locked onto yours, his chest heaving with exertion, his eyes dark with a mixture of pleasure and something else, something more intense.
You lay there, panting, your body still shuddering with the aftershocks of your orgasm before you turned around.
Your eyes met his, and you saw the raw, primal hunger that still burned in them, despite his release.
He looked at you for a long moment, as though trying to commit you to memory.
“You are…” He faltered, the words failing him for once. “Too much for even me.”
You drew a slow, uneven breath, lifting yourself up slightly, on to your elbows. “And yet,” you murmured, the faintest hint of mischief curling your lips, “you don’t look finished.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, weary and dangerous all at once. “Perhaps I am not,” he said before he knelt down, pulling you towards the edge of the bed, your legs dangling over the side.
"What are you doing?" you gasped , your eyes widening as he spread your thighs wide, his hands gripping your legs firmly.
"Showing you that I'm far from finished, my love," he replied, his voice a low growl.
He leaned down, his breath hot and moist against your sensitive skin, his tongue tracing a path from your knee, up your inner thigh, until he reached your center. You clenched your fists in the sheets, your body tensing as he blew a soft, warm breath against your wet, swollen folds.
"Dream," you groaned, your voice pleading, your body aching for his touch. "You just came inside me, you can't possibly — oh my god!" The words died in your throat as he began to lick you clean, his tongue tracing the line of your folds, circling your entrance before diving deeper, his tongue spearing into you, tasting the mingled essence of you both.
He groaned against your skin, the sound vibrating through you, sending shocks of pleasure radiating outwards.
"Holy shit!" you gasped, your back arching off the bed as Dream's tongue plunged into your wet and swollen center. He was lapping up the mixture of his own seed and your arousal, his tongue sliding deep inside you, then licking back out to circle your clit. The sensation of his skilled tongue was overwhelming, and you writhed beneath him, your hands tangling in the sheets as you fought to keep your senses grounded.
Dream chuckled against your skin, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your body.
"I told you. You have not yet seen the full extent of my appetite, my love."
His tongue delved back into you, lapping up the evidence of his possession, his desire. He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every sensitive inch of your flesh, making you gasp and writhe beneath him.
"Oh, fuck, Dream," you panted, your hands fisting in the sheets. "That's...that's too much."
He hummed, the sound low and approving, before he pulled back, his chin glistening with your arousal.
"We taste good together, my love," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I could feast on this for hours."
He leaned in again, his tongue lapping at your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You cried out, your hips bucking against his mouth, your body already aching for more. But he held you down, his hands gripping your thighs, pinning you to the bed, his mouth relentless in its pursuit of your pleasure.
"Dream," you gasped, your voice ragged, your body writhing beneath him. "I can't... I can't take much more. I'm too sensitive."
You gasped, your hands desperate to pull your legs back together, but his grip on your thighs only tightened, spreading you wider.
"Dream, please," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "It's too much. I can't..."
His eyes met yours, his expression dark and intense. "You can, and you will," he growled, his voice a low command.
"Oh god!" you cried, your body writhing under the insistent pressure of his tongue, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. "You're torturing me, Dream! Please."
You moaned, your hips bucking against his mouth, your body aching for more despite the overwhelming sensation until, once more, an orgasm
tore through you. You cried out, your walls clenching around his tongue, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you.
When your body finally went limp, Dream pulled back, his chin glistening with your arousal. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire and a faint, knowing smile that promised more.
“You are insatiable, my love,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
You laughed softly, your body still trembling with aftershocks. “And you love it,” you teased, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair.
He hummed, his tongue lapping at your clit one last time before he sat back, his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thighs.
“I do,” he admitted, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "So much so that you will not be able to walk straight tomorrow."