Page 80 of Evil Hearts

Night Three

Octavius

I am over one thousand years old and have never been intimate with another person, but those words flow off my lips easily. Zenith looks good enough to eat. Her bright soul flashes in delicate pinks and sunny yellows as she fluctuates through a spectrum of emotions since I’ve laid eyes on her again.

Her nerves are understandable, expected even. There are few of my kind lurking among the living. She has never before felt the presence of a monster who eats and destroys souls. I can’t hold that against her. I am against the natural order, an abomination. Yet her soul, so bright and cheerful, has chosen to keep company with my own.

Zenith blinks at me like I’ve spoken a dead tongue instead of modern English. I pause.

“Did I not speak English?” I incline my head toward her as I shuffle down, as if to get out of the hearse and onto my knees. As I trail slowly back up to her, she nods again.

“Yeah, English, great thing. We speak.” She squeaks the words out and tosses the baguette into the basket. I’m pleased to see that she liked what I made especially for her. Leander had given me the hint about baked goods after his own date. That, and the fact she is pleased by oral sex.

Settling between her legs, I stop breathing completely. She shifts them to give me even more space, and her skirt slides up those tantalizing thighs.

“May I touch you?” My hands ghost over her legs, going up and up and up to where I’m desperate to be. I may not have practices, but my very being is screaming that I can please her.

“Mmmhmm.” She moans out the little affirmative sound, her cheeks the most delectable scarlet. My mouth waters at the thought of putting it against her body. My hands slide up under her skirt, meeting the satin of her panties a moment later. One hand makes quick work of finding the waistband while the other can’t help but delve toward where she is warm and wet.

My fingers rub her clit through the sodden fabric, eliciting moans that will ring through my head for the rest of my days. I bite into my bottom lip as I toy with her, easing the fabric down and off and letting my fingers play in the wetness between her thighs.

“Oh, right there,” she gasps softly, her hips arching a little to keep my fingers right where she likes them. Bringing my other hand up to her pussy, I deftly roll two fingers against her entrance, watching as her hips buck trying to take me inside her.

My erection tries in desperation to punch through the fabric of my jeans and get to her. I draw my hips back and lower to my stomach, keeping my fingers working her clit exactly as they are before I replace them with my tongue. She cries out, her body nearly flying off the blanket as her pussy begins to clench rhythmically. Her thighs tremble and squeeze around my head. I stifle a groan into her pussy, eagerly lapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves like it’s my job.

Being between Zenith’s thighs did just become my job. I am master of my own destiny now, and this is what I want to do. Every day will be dedicated to having her make these sounds.

“Octavius, holy shit, fuck,” she hisses softly through her teeth. “Too sensitive. Lay off the clit.” She snorts as she relaxes. “I’ll take things I never thought I’d say to a guy for one thousand, host.”

I jerk back, chin soaked with her release, and offer her a smile. “You were perfection.”

“How many centuries did you practice that?” she asks, returning my smile, her breaths coming in quick little pants.

“None,” I answer as I return her panties to the proper position, stroking over the wet spot that will stain the delicate material with a strange sense of pride.

She will always remember this, even if she chooses to never see me again.

“None? So you’re, like, a virgin?” she asks with a snort.

“I suppose so. Virginity is a more modern concept than I’m used to,” I admit as I shift the picnic basket and rest beside her, looking up at the little glowing stars I arranged on the roof to remind me of the time and place of my birth. The sky is so different now than it was then.

“No fucking way! You did not just blow my mind and you’re a virgin.” Zenith shifts onto her side, resting her head on her palm as she looks me over. “Someone had to have gotten a ride on that. She points right at my erection straining against my jeans.

“No, not at all, actually. I was not well off in my lifetime. I didn’t have anything to offer a romantic partner.”

“That dick is more than enough,” Zenith says, licking her lips.

“I suppose it is impressive with the jewelry,” I murmur, thinking about the bars that span the length of the underside of my cock. They barely hurt going in and add such a shine, I can almost enjoy looking at my body with them in.

“You have a dick piercing?” she asks with an excited little yelp. Her hands fly toward my pants but stop short on my thighs. “Please, please, please let me see! I’ve never seen a dick piercing in real life. I always thought the guys who got them had to be out of their marbles.” She laughs, her grin so easy and filled to the brim with joy. Her soul is like a beacon. A lighthouse calling this weary sailor safely to shore.

“I don’t understand that saying, but I believe you mean it positively.” I chuckle, the sound deep, rattling from disuse. “You can touch me as much as you’d like, Zenith. I have waited for so long to be worthy of you.”

“You don’t have to be worthy of me. We are soulmates, right? That means we are innately worthy of each other, and now we just get to get to the good stuff,” she says simply as she makes quick work of my freeing my cock.

My erection thwacks against my stomach, springing from her delicate grasp as she frees it. Her eyes nearly bug out of her skull when she catches sight of the seven different bars, brightly colored beads on either side, sparkling in the low light.

“Do you like it?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even and cool. She is looking at me, really looking at me, and it makes me feel flayed open.

Her gaze is heavy and appreciative, taking in my cock and then sliding up slowly, over the sunken expanse of my empty stomach and my too visible ribs. I suck in a sharp breath when her eyes meet mine.

“I hope you know I like your body, Octavius. I’d like it no matter what, as long as you are the one piloting this flesh suit,” she says, laying her hand across my chest, fingers spread to dig into the holes of my netted shirt.

“You have quite a way with words.”

“I have my moments.” She winks, returning her attention to my cock. “Now it’s time for dessert.”

If there was a soul within the husk of my body, it no longer resides there. It wholly belongs to Zenith Calasso and her sinful mouth.