Page 22 of Our Monstrous Hearts

“This is not a life that you want.”

My heart sinks as the desperation within me rises.

“I do!” The way I raise my voice takes me aback. I have never spoken that way before. “I do,” I tell Izcacus softer, and the pause gives the panic time to slow down. Against my will, tears begin to well in my eyes, and my arms go slack beside me in defeat. “I just want to be strong. I want to be a monster, like you.”

“You are stronger than you know.” Izcacus sighs, as if he knows this battle is already lost and that he will give me what I want. His hand reaches out to cup my face. “It will hurt, my angel.”

“I’m not scared of pain, Izcacus. I have known it my entire life. I need to destroy all of those who are coming after me. I want to see their blood drain from their bodies, watch as their life slips away. I want to know that I am safe—that I have succeeded.”

And I whisper more to myself than him, “I need to be free, at any cost. I’ll pay any price.”

There’s silence as I stare at him, silent tears running down my cheeks as I wait for his answer. Izcacus plants a tender kiss on my forehead in acceptance. “My savage woman. As you command.”

When he takes a step back, something shifts in the air, striking down like lightning between us. “My soul, my body, is yours. Take me as you need.” Izcacus bows his head to expose his neck, signaling that I can do as I wish, even if it means taking his head.

He settles his eyes on the ground. The choice is mine.

My heart bursts at seeing how committed he is to every promise he makes. I’m starting to feel like this is a special kind of love, of adoration. It makes me want to be as dedicated to him as he is to me. I don’t yet know what true love is, but if it is something like this, then I think I want to give him my heart.

My resolve strengthens with every step that I take, telling myself that this is the right choice to make as I sniff back the last of the tears that threaten to fall. This is who I will become to survive. This is how I will become strong.

If I listen carefully, I can almost hear the angels above weeping for my soul as I move towards Izcacus, ready to claim my future. But I will no longer let others choose my path for me, nor will I lie down and accept what is offered. Instead I will fight. My future will be my own to wield, and rage will be my weapon.

The heavens can mourn me if they want. I don’t accept the rotten life they gave me. I deserve more—I deserve better.

This is my choice: I will go straight to hell with this monster beside me.

“Take off your clothes,” I say, my tone commanding despite how quietly I utter the words.

The truth is, I don’t want to die. Not to be discarded into the soil for the worms to feast on my rotting corpse. Maybe I’ve never really wanted to die. Maybe I just wanted to be free.

Hunger for this monster who I’ve grown to adore overwhelms my mind as an electric warmth shoots through my body, making my toes curl as any remaining panicked thoughts are replaced with him.

Izcacus may look monstrous, like death itself has claimed him, but he fills every space with his dark, irresistible energy. It vibrates, a resonance that thrums only for my soul. There is an undeniable pull, as if we were carved from the same star and have finally found each other again.

With hooded eyes, I watch Izcacus take off his shirt. My tongue flicks out, quick and sharp, like a snake tasting the air.

He’s a giant compared to me, with swollen biceps and a chest pumped full of muscle. Izcacus is at least double the size of an above-average man, and I love it. There is so much of him to touch, to taste.

My eyes trace over jagged scars shades darker than his pale-grey body. Each mark tells a story, and one day I’ll learn them all.

As he drops his pants, I can’t stop my eyebrows from rising in surprise and shock.

His fully erect cock springs up, and it is colossal.

It looks to be carved from marble, sculpted to perfection, with a bluish tint. Black veins that pulse with his desire protrude thickly, wrapping around his shaft to rib his cock. My pussy clenches as if it can already feel each of the notches.

But I am very sure it can’t fit inside of me. If he tried, it would almost certainly tear me open, splitting me into two.

My hands itch, desperate to reach out, to try to hold his cock between them. As I assess the size, I realize that I will need both hands to stroke it, and the length is, impossibly, the same size as my forearm.

His cock is just as monstrous as the rest of him.

Izcacus stands still, hands resting at his sides as if he’s offering himself to me. His cock leaks pre-cum from the darkened tip.

Time passes, and I’m not sure how long I’ve been staring at his cock, admiring it like a work of art, but it must have been long enough for him.

“Do I please you?” Izcacus asks in an unexpectedly soft tone.