Ensnared by the Dream Lord (Dark Lords) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Jaide Fox
to the floor, just missing her feet.
Surprise widened his dark eyes, ever so slightly. His thick black brows drew together in a frown. She could see nothing of the lower half of his face. A leather guard shielded his nose and mouth from her sight.
Without thinking, she reached up and tugged it off, revealing his masculine beauty. He didn’t try to stop her as she traced his square jaw. He swallowed, as if the tender touch pained him. She moved slowly then, her fingers the barest whisper on his skin as she smoothed across his lips. They parted beneath her touch as he drew in a ragged breath.
She remembered terror and elation, and then a kiss, begged for and received. Was she losing her mind?
Her hand rested at his jaw, slowly curling around his neck in possession. She met his eyes and stilled. Her heart beat rapidly, and she felt like she could no longer breathe. “Do I dream?”
“Yes,” he said.
The familiar baritone vibrated her chest softly. Warmth rushed her body, making her flush. “I dream, yet here you are. Are you not real?”
“I am flesh and blood.”
“Then I shall kiss you and dispel this dream.” She stood on the tips of her toes, pulling the back of his neck to close the distance.
* * * *
Morpheus wrenched himself from her dream with an effort, sliding off her bed as if putting distance between them would ease the sweet torment that infiltrated his body and mind. He angrily paced the room.
He’d nearly lost control.
He threw off his cloak and gloves, ran a hand through sweat dampened hair, willing his body to return to normal. Nothing could stop his gaze from crawling back to her sleeping form, however. She moved in her sleep, her gown slipping up her legs, revealing toned calves and a hint of knee. She arched her back, presenting her throat, the slender column begging for his lips to nibble across her and up to her lips.
His loins tightened. His belly clenched on a hard spasm of lust.
There was no frightening her away from him. She was powerful—powerful enough to use his weakness, his desire, to twist her dreams into whatever she wished.
He could not allow this woman to weaken his resolve to have done with her. He would not be enslaved by a mere mortal, a slip of a girl at that.
He still had time this night to begin again. Allowing his body to cool long moments, he devised a new plan, one that would allow his needs to be fulfilled, and destroy her longing for him. There was no other way.
He would not fall prey to the desires of one mortal woman.
He strode to her bed once more, resisting the impulse to touch her as she lay vulnerable to him, conjuring instead another dream.
* * * *
The crowded, noisy hall hushed to a quiet roar as she was led inside. The cuffs around her wrists and neck chafed when her chains were pulled, but the pain was not as great as the shame that washed over her at the crowd’s perusal. She felt dissected, her every flaw revealed to them and knew she was found lacking. She heard it in their murmured disapproval and felt the crowd’s gaze like needle pricks all over her skin.
The pull of the chains forced her head down, leaving only the periphery of her vision available to her, so it was not until she stopped and the chains were removed that she discovered she was to be an offering to the dark, forbidding lord, Morpheus.
He’d tried to disguise himself, cloak the fragile edges of her memory. Magic hummed in the air like the calm before a storm. Try as he might, though, he could not hide himself from her. The more she saw him, the easier it became for her mind to grasp his every nuance … to remember. Though she knew him on sight, he was changed. There was not an ounce of tenderness in him. He reeked of barely leashed passions, anger foremost.
He sprawled decadently on a stone throne, his
Surprise widened his dark eyes, ever so slightly. His thick black brows drew together in a frown. She could see nothing of the lower half of his face. A leather guard shielded his nose and mouth from her sight.
Without thinking, she reached up and tugged it off, revealing his masculine beauty. He didn’t try to stop her as she traced his square jaw. He swallowed, as if the tender touch pained him. She moved slowly then, her fingers the barest whisper on his skin as she smoothed across his lips. They parted beneath her touch as he drew in a ragged breath.
She remembered terror and elation, and then a kiss, begged for and received. Was she losing her mind?
Her hand rested at his jaw, slowly curling around his neck in possession. She met his eyes and stilled. Her heart beat rapidly, and she felt like she could no longer breathe. “Do I dream?”
“Yes,” he said.
The familiar baritone vibrated her chest softly. Warmth rushed her body, making her flush. “I dream, yet here you are. Are you not real?”
“I am flesh and blood.”
“Then I shall kiss you and dispel this dream.” She stood on the tips of her toes, pulling the back of his neck to close the distance.
* * * *
Morpheus wrenched himself from her dream with an effort, sliding off her bed as if putting distance between them would ease the sweet torment that infiltrated his body and mind. He angrily paced the room.
He’d nearly lost control.
He threw off his cloak and gloves, ran a hand through sweat dampened hair, willing his body to return to normal. Nothing could stop his gaze from crawling back to her sleeping form, however. She moved in her sleep, her gown slipping up her legs, revealing toned calves and a hint of knee. She arched her back, presenting her throat, the slender column begging for his lips to nibble across her and up to her lips.
His loins tightened. His belly clenched on a hard spasm of lust.
There was no frightening her away from him. She was powerful—powerful enough to use his weakness, his desire, to twist her dreams into whatever she wished.
He could not allow this woman to weaken his resolve to have done with her. He would not be enslaved by a mere mortal, a slip of a girl at that.
He still had time this night to begin again. Allowing his body to cool long moments, he devised a new plan, one that would allow his needs to be fulfilled, and destroy her longing for him. There was no other way.
He would not fall prey to the desires of one mortal woman.
He strode to her bed once more, resisting the impulse to touch her as she lay vulnerable to him, conjuring instead another dream.
* * * *
The crowded, noisy hall hushed to a quiet roar as she was led inside. The cuffs around her wrists and neck chafed when her chains were pulled, but the pain was not as great as the shame that washed over her at the crowd’s perusal. She felt dissected, her every flaw revealed to them and knew she was found lacking. She heard it in their murmured disapproval and felt the crowd’s gaze like needle pricks all over her skin.
The pull of the chains forced her head down, leaving only the periphery of her vision available to her, so it was not until she stopped and the chains were removed that she discovered she was to be an offering to the dark, forbidding lord, Morpheus.
He’d tried to disguise himself, cloak the fragile edges of her memory. Magic hummed in the air like the calm before a storm. Try as he might, though, he could not hide himself from her. The more she saw him, the easier it became for her mind to grasp his every nuance … to remember. Though she knew him on sight, he was changed. There was not an ounce of tenderness in him. He reeked of barely leashed passions, anger foremost.
He sprawled decadently on a stone throne, his
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