Page 14 of Our Monstrous Hearts

I work my legs harder still, gasping for air as I struggle to catch my breath. Anticipation nips at me, urging me on, urging me to go faster. And so I flee, losing myself to the untamable creature that lives within me, the one that revels in the terrifying expectation of what’s to come.

Oh my God. I realize with a start that it is far too quiet, that I have somehow missed the end of his countdown. A shiver runs up the side of my neck. He’s already stalking me from the shadows. He could be anywhere.

I dive into a bush, uncaring of the branches that whip my arms. Instead of retreating from the thorns I squeeze myself inside and kneel, my fingers digging into the dirt as I peer out. My hiding spot obscures my vision, which intensifies the anticipation.

Seconds pass.

The night is still.

There is only silence. Too much silence.

I hold my breath.

A clawed hand wraps around my ankle, and I scream when Izcacus drags me from my sanctuary. My breaths are frantic as I squirm, kicking my legs. His talons tear through my dress, the sound of fabric ripping echoing in the night. All I can see is darkness and glowing, red eyes. I think I should be scared––I know I should be scared––but I’m not. This is a game, but for the first time in my life, I have the chance to fight.

My nails claw at his arms, and I thrash. The noises that leave my mouth are animalistic and savage as I wrestle against Izcacus’s body for dominance. His hands mark me and he growls, low and guttural. As his grip loosens, I scramble onto my hands and knees, using the opportunity to push myself off of the ground. Then I’m running into the open, delirious giggles trailing in my wake.

I don’t make it very far before his hands are again at my waist, spinning me around until my lower back hits a tombstone. I pant, grinning up at him. My skin is slick with sweat, cool air dances across my exposed breasts, the dress having been tugged down, and my hair is frizzy and wild. Everything about me is untamed.

Izcacus grips my throat, but I know that I hold my own power when I’m with him. He pins me against the grave and lowers his mouth to hover just above mine, the heat of his fetid breath sending ripples across my skin.

“You are not delicate prey, Cassandra. You are vicious, and strong. You are mine. As I am yours.”

Chapter IX

Cassandra

His lips crash against mine, and I meet his passion with my own savage ferocity. Izcacus groans into my mouth as I bite and suck at his lip. With frenzied movements I grip his clothing. It feels like time is running out, but I need more. I need⁠—

“Take what you need,” Izcacus rumbles, and I realize that I’ve spoken out loud as desperation unravels me with alarming speed.

My cheeks burn in embarrassment at what I want, and I’m afraid to voice it, to be confident enough to take it.

“Tell me, my angel,” he urges more softly.

Throwing myself into Izcacus, I bury my face against his chest, closing my eyes to exist only in each sickening thud of my heart as it lurches up into my throat.

“I––I want you to make me feel good again. I want you.”

His strong arms encircle my body, and I sigh, beginning to relax. I feel safe within his embrace. Izcacus pulls away, tilting my chin up with one talon.

“You are always in control. If you do not like something or want me to stop, tell me, and I will. Promise me.”

“I promise,” I whisper.

“Good girl.”

Izcacus sinks to his knees before me. My breathing hitches as he pulls up the tattered gown, bundling it above my waist. I’m not wearing any underwear––there weren’t any that I could find in my room. His red eyes darken as if this pleases him, and he bends one of my legs so that it’s hooked over his shoulders. His tongue traces my inner thigh, cleaning up the blood that has once again spilled from my pussy.

My eyes flutter shut, pulse quickening with desire as my hands grasp his head for balance. Izcacus is all that I can feel; in the darkness, there is no one else. It’s just him, and me. He’s heaven wrapped in sin.

Behind closed eyes, it’s almost easy to enjoy the feeling of his lips against my clit, his tongue probing my entrance. It’s easier still to forget the feeling of vulnerability when I’m spread open for him, clothed only in shadows, a feast before a god.

Izcacus slowly makes his way up to my center. Each of his movements is intensified by my lack of sight. I’m willingly relinquishing myself into his care, trusting that Izcacus will take me with gentle hands, and that if he does break me, he will stitch me back together. It is all I can to feel, to experience each wave of crashing pleasure that he wreaks upon my body. Izcacus’s breath caresses my sensitive skin, sending tingling pulses in waves. With each kiss of my thigh, Izcacus alternates between nipping my flesh and swirling his tongue against the skin, drawing breathless squeals from me.

I whimper with need when he reaches my core. His lips press against my sensitive bud before he sucks and licks. My legs tremble, fingers scrabbling for purchase as Izcacus feasts upon me. He moves lower, and I moan as his fingers pry me open, wider, so that he can fuck his tongue into me. Our moans join in harmony as he guzzles my oozing menstrual blood, feeding like a wild man starved.

When I feel Izcacus move away, my leg gently returned to the ground, I open my eyes, gasping at how my blood runs down his chin and is smeared across his face. With blown, void-like pupils, Izcacus looks utterly demonic. A monster. My monster.