Chapter 1: Introduction
Later, the dishes were done, the candles snuffed, and the house had settled into the kind of quiet that seemed to belong only to nights by the sea. You curled into the couch with a blanket draped over your legs, coaxing him down beside you until the long line of his body fit easily along yours.
The film began, light from the screen painting shifting shadows across his pale features. He didn’t slouch, didn’t sprawl — he simply sat, still as a statue, one arm resting along the back of the couch, his fingertips tracing idle, absent circles against your shoulder.
For a time, you both watched in silence. But eventually, you realised his gaze strayed from the screen more often than it should, landing on you instead.
“This is exactly how it started last time,” you murmured, eyes still on the moving images.
His voice was low, certain. “Yes.”
You turned your head to meet his gaze. “And we didn’t finish the movie.”
A faint, knowing curve touched his mouth. “Nor will we tonight… unless you truly wish to.”
You gave a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
He shifted just enough for his hand to rest against your jaw, thumb brushing along your cheekbone, the movement unhurried, deliberate. “I would rather spend the hours in pursuits far more… meaningful.”
The film continued to play, forgotten, as his gaze held yours — steady, unwavering — until the distance between you closed.
You shifted, moving to straddle him. It was more difficult now with the curve of your belly between you, but his hands were already there, steadying you, guiding you into place as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
His palms settled at your hips, thumbs pressing lightly, reverently, into the fabric of your dress. You felt the subtle change in his breathing — slow, deep, deliberate — as your mouth found his.
The kiss was unhurried, his lips moving against yours with a kind of devotion that made your pulse stutter. One of his hands drifted up your spine, fingers splaying against your back to draw you closer. The other remained at your side, anchoring you with a warmth and certainty that left no room for doubt.
When you pulled back just enough to look at him, you found his eyes fixed on you — not on your lips, not on your body, but you.
“Twenty minutes into the movie,” you murmured, slightly breathless, “and we’re already here.”
A faint shadow of a smile curved his mouth. “You expected otherwise?”
“I thought we might make it to at least the halfway point.”
His thumb brushed along your jaw, slow and deliberate. “I told you, I hoped we would not.”
You laughed softly, the sound caught between affection and surrender, before leaning in to claim his mouth again. His kiss was deep but measured, his hands steadying you at your hips as though you were the most fragile thing.
Your baby belly made the closeness different now, a shift in balance and movement, but he adjusted without hesitation — angling his body, drawing you in until you could feel the press of his chest against yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing. One hand stayed at your hip, the other sliding up your spine, fingertips tracing the line of your back as though committing it to memory.
When his lips left yours, they moved lower, brushing against your cheek, your jaw, and finally to the sensitive skin at your throat. You felt the soft exhale of his breath there before the slow press of his mouth, and the low hum in his chest vibrated through you.
Your head fell back, your eyes closed, surrendering to the sensation — the heat of his lips, the gentle suction, the rasp of his tongue against the pulsing point of your throat.
"Dream," you whispered, the word barely audible, tangled somewhere between a groan and a plea.
His hand at your hip tightened, fingertips digging slightly into your flesh, as though he needed the grounding. You let out a shaky laugh, low and throaty, and opened your eyes to find him watching you, his gaze intense.
"You like that?" he asked, his voice a low rumble, barely contained.
His fingers tightened on your hips, pulling you closer, his length already hard against you, straining against the fabric of his pants. You could feel the heat of him, the thickness of him, and the way he pulsed with need.
You bit your lip, your breath hitching as you ground down against him, feeling every inch of him through the thin layers of your dress. "Morpheus," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. "I just need you inside me. No teasing. No foreplay." Your voice was a rough, desperate plea, as you fumbled with the zipper of his pants, eager to feel him, to have him inside you.
Morpheus hissed in a breath as your fingers brushed against his length, thick and heavy in your hand. He watched you, his eyes burning like embers, as you pulled up your dress just enough to make contact, skin to skin.
"No underwear?" he growled, his voice barely recognizable, thick with need.
You smirked, a slow, sultry curl of your lips as you guided him to your entrance. "No, because I knew this would happen. It always does," you admitted, your breath hitching as you felt the tip of him nudge against you.
His eyes flashed, dark and wild, and he gripped your hips tighter, steadying you as he slowly pushed into you. Your eyes closed, your head falling back with a soft moan as he filled you inch by inch.
"Yes. Oh god,"
you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your body adjusting to the intrusion, aching with need.
Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze, seeing the stark hunger there, the primal need that matched your own.
His hands spanned your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he began to move, slow and deliberate, each thrust a claim, a promise. You gasped with each push, your breath coming in ragged pants, your body already slick and ready, eager to accommodate him.
He was moving slowly, his hips rolling against yours, each thrust a deliberate, sensual slide that sent shockwaves of pleasure through you.
"Morpheus," you breathed, your head falling back, your eyes closed, as you surrendered to the sensation. "You feel so good."
He groaned, a low, animal sound that rumbled through his chest, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "So do you. my love," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "So perfect."
You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, seeing the raw hunger there.
Your hands made their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the silken strands, pulling his head towards you to meet your lips.
The kiss was fierce, wild, a clash of tongues and teeth, a desperate meeting of mouths.
His thrusts became more forceful, more demanding, his hips slapping against yours with each deep drive.
You could feel every inch of him, the way he filled you completely, the way he stretched you open, the exquisite burn of it.
You rode him at the same time , your body moving in sync with his, grinding down against him with each thrust, taking him as deep as you could go. You felt the heat of him building, the thickness of him growing even more with each slide in and out of you.
“I am...,” you panted, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter. “Oh my god. I am..."
He groaned, the sound low and guttural, his control slipping with each word as he felt you clenching around him, your orgasm building.
"Come for me, my love," he demanded, his voice like gravel. "Show me how much you want it."
You gasped, your body tensing as his words pushed you closer to the edge. "Dream, oh god," you swore, your voice ragged. "You're gonna make me—"
He cut you off with a harsh kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, his hips driving into you with a force that stole your breath. "Yes," he growled, his voice a dark promise.
"Come for me."
His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he punctuated each word with a hard, driving thrust. You could feel him everywhere — the thick, hard length of him inside you, the way his body rubbed against your sensitive clit with every movement, the heat of him radiating through you like a furnace.
He smiled, a hungry, predatory curve of his lips that sent a shiver down your spine and then it happened. It hit you like a freight train.
Your entire body convulsed, your inner muscles clamping down on him as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you, consuming you, drowning you in a sea of sensation. You cried out, your voice raw and jagged, the sound torn from deep within you as your orgasm tore through you with a brutal, shattering intensity.
Morpheus groaned, a low, primal sound that rumbled through his chest, his hips stuttering against yours as he felt you come apart in his arms.
He could feel the intense clench of your muscles around him, the way your body milked him, demanding his release.
He gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he slammed into you, his control snapping like a twig. The sound of flesh against flesh filled the room, a symphony of pleasure and desire, as he chased his own release and, surely enough, it didn't take him long.
You felt the first spurt of his heat inside you, and you moaned, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your own orgasm. He swore, his voice a harsh, guttural sound as he came, his body tensing, his hips driving into you with a final, powerful thrust.
You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your breath coming in short, harsh gasps as you rode out the waves of pleasure that still pulsed through you. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, his body shuddering with the force of his release, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.
You could feel the pulse of his length inside you, the slow, steady throb as it emptied itself into your body.
You held him tight, your arms wrapped around him, your fingers tangled in his hair, your body still quivering with the aftershocks of your own orgasm. You could feel the heat of him, the thick, sticky evidence of his pleasure leaking out of you, dripping down your thighs.
"God I needed that," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, your cheeks still flushed with the remnants of your orgasm.
Morpheus lifted his head from your neck, his eyes meeting yours, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "As did I," he agreed, his voice still rough with desire. "More than you know."
You let out a soft laugh, your fingers still tangled in his hair, your body still trembling slightly with the aftershocks of pleasure as you lifed yourself carefully off him, the movement slow and unhurried, your eyes never leaving his.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you come?" His eyes followed you, dark and intense, as you moved to sit beside him, your hand still resting on his chest, your palm feeling the steady beat of his heart.
You smiled, a slow, sated curve of your lips as you looked down at him, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, the sharp angles of his jaw, the dark sweep of his lashes against his cheeks.
"If you say so," you teased softly, your fingers gently tracing the outline of his chest, feeling the slight sheen of sweat that coated his skin.
He reached up, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen across your face. "I do say so," he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his eyes never leaving yours. "You are a vision. A goddess made of flesh."
You rolled your eyes, but there was no heat behind the gesture, only affection. You knew he meant it, and it was a kindness he bestowed upon you, one you never took for granted.