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He uses both hands to rip my silky sleep shirt open, exposing my tits to his hungry gaze. “Gorgeous.” He dives down and sucks my hardened nipple into his mouth, and then he slides his hand down to my pussy again. I undulate with my growing need to feel him inside me.
In the next second, my shorts are gone, and he’s spreading my thighs wide and gazing down at me like I’m everything. “Your perfect little pussy was made for your god to devour.”
His head is between my legs, and I arch off the bed from how fucking amazing it feels to have his mouth on me. He sucks and licks like the pro he must be as his thick fingers pump into my pussy.
“Are you going to take my cock like a good little mortal?”
“Yes?” I rely as a question, because this feels like too much too fast.
He pulls back so he’s on his knees, his legs spreading me wide open. He’s naked and stroking his huge cock, all while eyeing me. “You have to accept me now.”
“I do?” I’m confused by his comment. I thought we had a few days before I had to, if what Hermes said is actually about me accepting Eros’s job offer. I still need to find out about what’s going on there. “To become a matchmaker?”
“I need to move on. It’s now or never.”
“What?” I scoot back and grab the sheets to cover myself. “You just want to use me and move on?”
As soon as I ask this, it becomes clear I’m only in a dream.
Eros turns into Carl in front of me, then into a montage of all my crappy ex-boyfriends.
Why did I dream that Eros wants to use and ditch me?
Ultimately, isn’t that what he plans to do?
He doesn’t necessarily want to have sex with me, but he wants me to accept his job, then he can move on.
But why did I have a sex dream about him?
Did his simple formula for falling in love really work?
Oh, I hope not, because I’m screwed if my stupid “pure” heart wants another person I can’t have.
The dream fades, and everything shifts into darkness when I look around.
I’m in a dark room, but I can see just enough to know it isn’t my bedroom. Black satin sheets are under me, and Eros is no longer there, but I’m not alone. I feel a presence all around me.
There’s also enough light to see a man standing across from me in the space.
Startled, I shift back against the headboard.
I don’t want to be frightened anymore, so I decide to fight. I leap off the bed and onto my feet, holding my hands out in a defensive pose. Poppies instantly grow at my feet.
As I become more aware of my surroundings, I notice I’m in some sort of underground cave with water all around us, as if we are on an island.
A giant raven caws in the corner.
The towering man moves closer, and light seems to emanate from him. He has wings similar to Eros’s wings, except these are black like the night and tucked behind his broad shoulders. When I search his face, I notice the tips of small black wings peeking out from his long dark hair instead of ears, and his skin is pale but not unhealthy. Everything else about him is pitch black—his eyes, his long hair, his wings, and his clothing. His shirt is kind of pirate style, with a loose and romantic look. His pants are made of a soft, black leather. He’s barefoot, as if I caught him on his day off at home.
“Hello, sweet mortal.”
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice echoing strangely. “Where am I?”
“You are dreaming,” he says, his voice deep and soothing, as if he could lull me to sleep with his words alone.
I pinch my arm. “It feels pretty real. Are you a god?”
The feathered man grins. It’s disarmingly charming and somehow familiar. “I told them you’re not as naïve as they believed.”
