I’m floating again. Half in, half out. The dream is pure filth—Marcus’s huge cock stretching me, his hand choking me, his voice calling me his cumdump.

It’s not a dream.

I’m on my back in his bed, legs shoved wide open, completely limp. My nightie is gone. My body is covered in sweat and marks. And he’s fucking me again—slow, lazy, deep strokes while I lie there unconscious.

“Such a perfect little sleepwalking slut,” he murmurs, voice thick with lust. He pinches my nipples hard, then leans down to suck one into his mouth, biting just enough to make my unconscious body twitch.

I can feel everything. The thick drag...