Page 53 of The Rusalka and Mr. Right

Sharp, and seductive. My eyes practically cross when her other hand slides down and cups my crotch.

“Little black bra, barely-there thong, and long, long black gloves? A string of pearls that you make for me? Hmm? If I inspire you?” she whispers, running one finger over the plunging neckline of her dress.

“Need to feed?”

“Mmhmm. Your energy sustains me. Souls sustain Koshchei. Killing sends him souls. But simply taking your cum? That keeps me alive.”

Ohhhh. Oh! I get so many things right now—and Marina watches the change come over me.

She shrinks. Shrivels in guilt. “Are you... Are you disgusted?” she whispers.

“Huh? No! No, no.” I pull her in close. The next question I ask is going to make a big difference to my future and Marina’s, too, so I ask it carefully. “How often do you need to feed?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Marina shrugs. “I can go for days without eating, but it’s painful. With you—with Gregor—it was different. With you, I feel full. I think I could go for months, but even if I couldn’t...” her eyes with their dancing flames in the center look into mine, “I would rather go hungry. I found out very soon after meeting you that I have no appetite for any other. And Mr. Minegold gave me a special necklace I can wear that will store your energy for me. Sort of like having an emergency snack supply. If things between us stay the same, I can start to wear it when we...” she pauses, seeming flustered for a beat. “But I would understand if you are repulsed and if you don’t like that when we make love it is also feeding me.”

“Also?” My eyebrow arches.

“It is also because I am built to crave pleasure.” I see her thighs squeeze shut in the sheath of her dress and a desperate look comes across her face. “Mainly it is because... I love you. I would want to make love to you every night even if I was a normal, boring human. No offense!”

“That’s cold, baby.” I pinch her rear, and she moans, the sound jolting straight into my cock. “I’m not repulsed. I’m worried. Am I enough?”

Marina bounces in the grass, nodding, hands clasped in front of her. “Yes! Yes, you are. I can prove it.”

“You don’t have to prove it—but I wouldn’t mind a friendly demonstration when we get home.” I square my shoulders and shake out my hands, jogging a couple of steps in place. “C’mon. Let’s go introduce me to people. But if anyone looks like they’re gonna bite me, I’m counting on you to save my ass?”

“I will guard your ass with my life.”

We both laugh and walk in, arms around each other, her hand in my back pocket.

Girl takes her job literally.

KEVIN SURVIVED. HEsurvived, he had fun, and he had a lot more champagne than we planned on. One quick drink turned into three. I’m afraid that when we arrive home, he won’t be up to making love.

I tell myself I can be patient. I can wait. After all, next weekend, he’ll be mine. Minegold, Alban, and some others agreed to help us with a little promise ceremony. Farrah called it a binding.

“Tell me what else I should know about you, sexy lady.” Kev smiles at me as he locks the door of his apartment, a tipsy grin that makes him look absolutely edible.

“Ask me something. Anything.”

Kev spins me around and kisses my neck. “Why do you always smell like rain?”

“I’m a water-dweller by nature. If I’m out of the water for more than a day or two, I’ll wither away. Turn to dust, I think.”

“So we’re looking at lakefront property.” Kevin’s lips trail pointedly lower.

I feel his hands against the narrow zipper on my dress, and with a shimmy, I drop the dress to my hips, breasts bouncing free. Kev captures one nipple with greedy sucks, palming the other, squeezing as he circles.

“How old are you?”

“In human years? Over 400.”

Kev gasps, standing straight up, but I change tactics, pursuing him now, hands popping open buttons with practiced flicks, itching to get to the hard muscles underneath. “You don’t look more than thirty!”

“Well—this is my last century, Kevin. I’m going to grow old with you.”Or old alone. Or maybe I won’t make it past Koshchei’s rebirth...Hey, I have hope, but I’m not entirely unrealistic.

“No wonder you’re so good at history,” he huffs, shaking his head.

“You’re taking this very well.”

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