15. A scream tears from my throat as I fall—forever falling.

Chapter 15

A scream tears from my throat as I fall—forever falling.

ZENYA

"Fireflies" by Owl City

"Mirrors" by Justin Timberlake - Sam Tsui and Kurt Hugo Schneider Cover

M orpheus laughs from a distance as I rush through the magical house of mirrors, escaping through narrow passageways, bumping the glass.

The God of Dreams loves to play games. And I am an eager player.

The mirrors transform into a shifting kaleidoscope, shadows, and light reflecting all around me. The ethereal labyrinth seems to stretch infinitely in all directions.

Each mirror flickers with a portal to a different world, beckoning me with hypnotic and mesmerizing imagery.

I pause, lifting my fingers toward one mirror displaying a forest bathed in moonlight, its gold and silver leaves shimmering while Fae folk dance around bonfires. I envy their midnight blue skin, speckled with starry-like glitter, sharp and delicate features, and hair of elemental materials—leaves and vines to sheer water droplets like liquid braids.

The next mirror reflects a night sky of swirling constellations. They form new shapes. Dancing ladies. Wolves howling at the moon. Roses showering down petals.

Another shows an underwater scene where colorful fish waltz among endless coral reefs.

Shadows twirling along my bare legs are my first signal.

I smirk and lunge for the next opening. Strong arms catch me from behind just like the first time we met.

"Got you, little wonder," Morpheus purrs low in my ear, raising all the hairs on my skin. I whimper as his lips roam along the side of my neck. "You can't hide from the Ruler of your wildest dreams."

"Mmm…" I moan as his shadows thread around the corset strings of my white ballet core dress with loose fabric scraps for the skirts. "Wouldn't dream of it." I gasp as the dastardly shadows loosen the strings one by one, exposing my breasts to the mirror of Fae beings.

Mine and Morpheus's reflections multiply and merge in the glass. Synchronized to the rhythm of our heartbeats, the mirrors echo our actions, creating a symphony of movement and light wherever he touches me. His hands cup my breasts, pulling me tighter so I feel his hardness grinding against my back since he's a good head taller than me.

I take a deep breath as he scrapes his teeth along my neck while plucking at my pierced nipples. They pebble to erect buds. He smells of wild roses growing in a lush, deep forest with incense and opium smoke curling through the branches.

"Eyes on me, my wonder," he commands, gaze gleaming with mischief as our surroundings morph to mirror their intimacy. "You know,"—he whispers, his lips brushing my ear—"we have an audience. I hope you're not shy," he refers to the Fae drawing closer, their luminescent eyes lost upon us.

Liquid heat gathers in my center as those shadows slice my dress down the middle and peel it off my shoulders. Morpheus is still fully clothed. Today, he is so sharp with the black, Renaissance-like outfit, adorned in silver eldritch symbols. The tunic seals to his skin, clasped to the lower part of his torso to showcase much of the bronze skin of his chest, slabbed with muscle. And his strong pillar of a neck. His hair is longer today, a few wild curls always escaping his ponytail and falling across his cheek.

So different from Nyxion. Morpheus embodies a young, cocky spirit. Carefree and confident in his power and control. As dominant and possessive but not in a dark, broody way.

His wings are so black and lustrous, so beautiful, they captivate me. Almost as much as he does.

Lifting my arms up and behind me, I skate my fingertips along his neck, thrilling in the corded muscle tightening and his jaw hardening.

"Shy? In this dreamscape?" I tip my head back against his shoulder and grip his hair with abandon as he pleasures my breasts with one hand and traces my right-side tattoos with his other. "Hardly. I think I look rather good from every angle."

The Fae lick their lips, their claws crawling through the mirror to scrape my skin. I hiss from the invasion.

Morpheus chuckles, his hand sliding down the pink forest along my pelvis. "Flawless, every single one. But I think the mirrors might grow jealous of your beauty."

"Maybe they'll show us something interesting to keep them entertained," I quip, my eyes twinkling with mischief.

Within the other mirrors, my bare skin reflects with a surreal, almost reverent glow. My butterfly tattoos erupt, and I gasp from their antennae tickling my skin, coupled with Morpheus curling his tongue along the curve of my ear.

Each touch surges ripples through the mirrored world, creating waves of light and shadow that dance around us.

When Morpheus's fingers dip into my folds, my arousal drenches them. He overwhelms me. He overpowers me. I twist his curls tighter around my fingers.

One tug, and he growls, grips my wrists to pin them against the crest of the mirror, and bends me over.

I have no warning before he rams his cock into me from behind. "Oh, great fucking god!" I cry out from the impact, doubling over even more.

"Your worship is much appreciated. Give me more," he says, voice deepening to a dark silk.

His cock is indescribable. At any moment, he thickens it, stretching and straining my opening and labia until they burn and inflame. Morpheus releases my wrists and holds my pelvis, his arm like an iron bar as he fucks me from behind.

More Fae reach their hands through the mirror, their eyes glinting eagerly. Morpheus grips my hair, fisting it before yanking it back, forcing my body into an arch and spearing me deeper.

The Fae palm my breasts and rub my nipples between their fingers.

"You make every fantasy come to life!" I gush as that huge cock follows my comment by vibrating, actually vibrating inside me. I scream from the first wave of an orgasm crashing over me.

"Every fantasy is a masterpiece when I'm the architect. And you are my muse…" he growls, ejects to the tip, and slams back into me, triggering another orgasm until I'm screeching and raking at the mirror with my nails.

The hand at my pelvis lowers to capture my pierced clit, working it back and forth. He fucks me slower, deeper, and brings me to the edge of another powerful orgasm. Only to remove his hand.

"No," I whimper in protest and try to reach for him, but one fierce tug on my hair warns me to put my hands on the mirror sides again.

"I require more worship, Zenya," he says with a snicker.

"Um…" I bite my lip, my eyes watering as I try to focus on him, on his ethereal beauty and those feathered wings curving around me. But the Fae touching me, one Fae—a dryad with a tongue that reminds me of birch bark—kneels before me and swipes her tongue along my swollen clit. "You are truly a master of dreams, oh!" I whine from her tongue circling and even twisting around Morpheus's dick, causing him to throb inside me. He alternates between throbbing and vibrating, all the while leaving me teetering on that edge.

"Oh, come now, little wonder. We both know you can do better than that." He sinks his teeth into my neck, punishing.

"Oh, god!" I cry. More heat soaks me. "No one else can captivate me like you. You turn every moment into something extraordinary. You're a spell I never want to break. Ahh!" I sob from the textured tongue swiping at my clit, long and slow strokes. "And you're the reason I believe in magic."

"Magic indeed, my love. It seems my irresistible allure has left quite an impression on you. Let us see how much more I may mark you."

His cock leaves my center. The dryad pauses in her licking. And I gasp, panic swirling through me as he spreads my cheeks and probes the head of his wet cock at my anus. Before I may struggle, Morpheus surges his shadows and binds my wrists with them, stretching my arms above my head.

"Has this sweet, pink hole been pillaged yet, my Zenya?"

Warm oil oozes into the hole before Morpheus plunges one finger to stretch the opening. The pressure of that thick finger alone overwhelms me.

"N-no. I've never been taken there," I confess my one vice in all my travels. My stumbling block.

Leaning in, Morpheus buries his nose in my hair before whispering, "I will be your first." He stabs a second finger inside, stretching me, and I clench more. "Relax your muscles, little wonder."

"I can't."

"You will," he growls. "Anything is possible in my Realm."

Taking deep breaths with the Fae fingers skimming my throat, my breasts, my belly, I focus on softening my inner ass muscles. The moment I do, Morpheus removes his fingers and poises his crown at my hole.

My whole body trembles as he slides in. "Ohhhh! Fuckohfuckohfuck!" I wail through the stretching, the smoldering effect, and the indomitable pressure as the God of Dreams takes my ass, the first ever.

"Fuck, you feel like a dream!" Morpheus snarls.

"Oh, come now, Morpheus…" I moan as he slides in more…and vibrates, the unholy bastard. "You can do better than that," I throw his words back at him with a grin, knowing I'm just digging myself a grave of orgasms that will likely send my soul escaping my body.

He chuckles, then yanks my hair harder, smiting right through my dark hole, his hips slamming against my ass. Hot stars explode into supernovas before my eyes. My insides convulse, and I scream through my orgasm, my lungs erupting. At the same time, the dryad stabs three fingers into my opening, pumping into my spasming inner flesh while swiping my clit with her rough tongue. It sends me over the edge again.

"Oh, for the love of all humanity!"

"Mmm…" he muses, tugging on my hair more, nostrils flaring to breathe me in. "I'll settle for yours, little wonder. Now, how about this for better?"

Piercings! Cold piercings push through the skin of his cock to slide against the inside of my ass, adding a whole new layer of texture. And then…my heart ricochets in my chest because something long unravels inside me. No, somethings. They lick at my fucking internal organs, tickling every part of me.

"Hmm…like my shadow tongues, Zenya?"

"Oh. My. Fucking. God."

"This god is just getting warmed up with fucking you."

Hands on my breasts, fingers tweaking my pierced nipples, tongue circling my clit, and five fingers now fucking my center. My cheeks turn beet red from the squelching wet noise my pussy is making.

Then, Morpheus starts to move. The pressure, the piercings, the shadow tongues all conspire to shatter me into oblivion. But not until he chooses. His sheer size could rip me apart, but he slides in with such ease, partially due to the magical oil but mostly due to his skill.

I imagine the God of Dreams would be the best at any form of lovemaking. I recognize that is what this is. Total possession with incomprehensible fucking—but also lovemaking. The first time anyone has ever cared to go slow, to savor, to worship me.

Nyxion did, too. But it was so dark, so punishing, so nightmarish, nothing about the experience could ever be described as making love.

"Fuck, you're unreal. No, so real, it's inconceivable." He picks up his pace, settling into a rhythm with tortured and beautiful sounds unleashing from his throat. Utterly masculine and godly. Grunts and growls and snarls of pleasure. He's claiming me with each one.

I love his power over me. All throughout my twenty-nine years, no one has ever taken me this way. I've always been the leader, guiding and instructing others on what to do. I didn't know how to just let go until Morpheus. And Nyxion.

Who else could rule me but these gods?

He begins to savage me, driving into me with harder, hammering strokes. Between the dryad now inserting her small fist and Morpheus setting me ablaze with wet heat filling my center like a burning liquid star, I'm ready to combust.

The Fae have moved to tongues on my nipples and firm suckles on the erect buds.

"You are mine, Zenya…" He stops, grinds to a torturous halt, and yanks my hair back so hard before crushing his mouth to mine. And with a deep, low growl in his throat, he commands against my lips, "Come."

One more great thrust, and with the dryad pumping her fist and drawing circles on my engorged clit, I shatter into an orgasm, so great and powerful, it sends storms of hot pleasure through every pore, into my blood, beyond my muscle, and into my very cell matter. As he slams his release into me, spewing what feels like hot shadows, Morpheus shreds my insides and shakes me to my soul.

With his release, every single mirror around us shatters. Millions of smithereens clash into me but do not cut. His shadows swirl around me, blanketing me, protecting me.

When he comes out and gives my ass a sharp slap, I fall to my knees.

"Fucking owned!" he curses, and I turn to get a glimpse of his cock, not believing that was actually inside me.

I love it. Every inch. Are all god cocks so beautiful? So huge and incomprehensible? I love how it's a shade darker than his bronze skin, full of veins, ridges, and those piercings. He fists it, milking it of its cum, which reminds me of liquid shadows.

I hardly realize what I'm doing when I flick my tongue along the tip, but I know I have no fear of contamination. Not in his world. By now, the Fae have disappeared due to the shattered glass.

"Mmm…little wonder!" Morpheus snakes his fingers into my hair and shoves his cock deep into my mouth with abandon.

My eyes water. I gag and clench my eyes shut as I work to swallow it down. Bile burns my throat, but I'm able to swallow it down. He comes out to give me a slight breath before slamming inside again.

"So gods-damned sweet, Zenya," he praises me while thrusting deep. And deeper. Always granting me a thin breath before starting again.

Just as he quivers and throbs with his impending release, Morpheus comes out, turns me onto my back, and sinks inside me, filling all of me.

"Morpheus!" I cry out and grip his ass, marveling at its firmness, so muscular.

He leans down and kisses me deeply.

The shards of the mirrors begin to reconstruct, fusing but also forming cracks. The heat of his lips makes the mirrors around them fog up.

"I think we should give them a show they won't forget," he murmurs against my lips.

Sweat breeds on my skin, and I love how he grips my wrists and pins them to each side of my body while pumping inside me.

I laugh, the sound ringing through the mirrored room like a melody. "Always the showman, aren't you?"

"You know me well," he replies, his voice a low growl of desire.

I gasp when he drapes his tongue around my right nipple and nips it, pleasuring it all the more with the piercing.

I meet him thrust for thrust, receiving him. Our movements became more urgent, more entwined, and the mirrors respond, the images shifting faster. Stars explode into supernovas, oceans surge and crash, and forests whisper secrets through rustling leaves.

My breath hitches as Morpheus's hands roam my body, finding all the places that make her shiver with delight. "You realize,"—I breathe—"that with all these mirrors, we'll have to clean up twice as much mess."

Morpheus grins wickedly. "Who says we're cleaning up? Let the mirrors deal with it. They seem eager enough to watch."

Lips sealing to mine again, he lowers his hand and swipes at my slippery hot clit until I'm bucking and crying into his mouth. As our passion reaches its peak, and we come together, the mirrors erupt with light, reflecting our climax in a cascade of brilliant, shimmering colors. It's like the entire universe has conspired to celebrate our union, each mirrors a window into a different aspect of our love.

If I can even know what love is…

Panting and entwined, we finally collapse into tangled limbs and sweat, the mirrors around us slowly returning to their previous states.

Morpheus sinks his teeth into my throat.

When he pulls out and falls onto his back, I rest my head on his chest, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

"Well…" I murmur, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips. "That was quite the performance."

Morpheus chuckles, his hand stroking my hair. I love how he manifests a cigarette and aimlessly blows smoke rings into the air. "Encore?"

I laugh softly. "Give me a minute to catch my breath, and maybe the mirrors will come up with a new backdrop for us."

"Whatever they come up with,"—Morpheus murmurs, pressing a kiss to my forehead and combing through my hair—"it will be perfect as long as you're in it."

He sends goosebumps all over my skin. And sets a brand on my heart.

I hope I never wake up.

We're just leaving the House of Mirrors—me wearing an off-the-shoulder white top with a large black butterfly in the center and a ruffly miniskirt with Morpheus back in his usual attire—when a massive tail with iridescent scales flicks my leg.

As the tail coils around my ankle, I choke on a gasp, but Morpheus growls and surges his shadows, forcing the tail to uncoil.

When I look up, a howl tears through my mind. A great, serpentine creature with shimmering, luminescent scales slithers all over the dreamscape—this carnival that I wove into being.

"Gods, not again!" Morpheus rolls his eyes and huffs as the creature changes color to a scarlet red. Its eyes are luminous and hypnotic, and its body moves with a fluid, almost ethereal grace.

"What is it?" I wonder as the serpent crawls through the carousel of real horses that stomp their hooves at the invasion.

"Astral beast," he explains. "They wander here and there. But they should not be allowed within a dream-woven world. They disturb walkers. Not truly harmful, but they are more of an annoyance. Ahh, fuck," he curses, and I swing my head to the right.

A powerful lion bounds toward us, its mane crackling with lightning and fur that shifts between stormy grays and blues. It has a wild energy, both profound and primal. I duck behind Morpheus as he sends a wave of shadows to force the creature back.

When the lion retreats, Morpheus turns to me, cups my chin, and leans in to kiss my brow. "I must handle this. Return to the House of Mirrors. I'll meet you there soon."

"You're leaving me?" I scrunch my brows.

"Won't be long, my wonder." He winks and combs a hand through my hair. "Remember, you may weave anything into being. If you wish for a fluffy dragon to protect you, you may."

Tempting.

"Good gods," he huffs as the lion bounds past the floating Ferris wheel with each basket ride themed after a different habitat. It and the serpent prowl one another around the carousel.

I shake my head with an airy laugh as he turns away and advances towards the astral creatures. Shrugging, I make my way back toward the House of Mirrors, only for the sky to shift in color.

Narrowing my eyes on the landscape, I stare at the swirling vortex of colors and patterns, hues constantly changing from dark purples and deep blues to bright oranges and fiery reds. Even the sun and moon rapidly cycle through phases, fusing in strange, impossible alignments.

None of this is me. That much I know.

The air around me crackles with a foreboding tension. And then, the ground begins to crack and split.

Panic rips through me. I launch into a run, headed for the closest building, but it crumbles under the weight of the ground caving in. I stumble from the foundation shaking all around me but scramble to my feet.

I spin my head all around but find no trace of the serpent and lion. Where's Morpheus? I highly doubt I can dream weave him into being.

When lightning cracks against the sky, I throw myself against a carnival game booth, hiding under the canopy. More lightning arcs through the sky, but ghostly images parade across the expanse instead of pure light—as if they are from different times—flashes of ancient battles, prehistoric creatures, futuristic technologies, and long-forgotten faces.

What the hell is going on?

Roars and the clashing of armies, haunting melodies all create a cacophony of noises ringing throughout the ages.

Dread thickens inside my blood as ghosts pour out from the sky, monsters, and humankind alike.

So swept up in the mayhem, I don't realize what's happening until the ground beneath me collapses.

A scream tears from my throat as I fall—forever falling. I catch the very edge of a rock, holding on for dear life, relying on all my climbing training. My muscles strain, protesting. Sweat beads on my brow.

Don't look down . But I do and find a depthless gorge of darkness. Horrific thoughts scramble through my brain, once again making me wonder if I die in this place, do I die in real life?