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Summary
Hob gulps. “It was this…whole thing, where I was yours, and I served you. Like this. With my mouth.”
His legs spread in welcome, and Dream steps between them. As fascinating as this concept is, he would rather do other things than talk right now.
Dream grips a handful of Hob’s hair, tilting his head back to meet a bruising kiss. Hob twists and sighs, chasing him, so clearly wanting him.
“You are mine, Hob Gadling,” Dream speaks into his mouth, and Hob shivers, accepting it, claiming Dream in turn with his quiet supplication. “Go on, then. Serve me.”
Series
- Part 2 of the poetry between stars
