Page 57 of Morsel

“Is this about my comfort, or is it about speeding up the healing process?” she says as she slips gingerly into her shoes. “Either way, thank you, love. This is perfect.”

We don’t have time to eat, so we rush to the university. In the lecture hall, everyone gawks as I push Mona’s wheelchair, then the students gossip to one another. Mona beams, her eyes sparkling as she soaks in the recognition and the rumors; it’s the same smile she had when she entertained her fans at the art gallery. She’s in a wheelchair with missing appendages, and yet, this small change gives her power.

“What do you think they’re saying?” she whispers.

I open my mouth to tell her how she’s hypnotizing everyone with her allure, just like she’s captured me, but Mona starts lecturing, and my answer falls silent as if what I think doesn’t actually mean anything to her. It almost hurts.

But like a good, supportive boyfriend, I shake those emotions off and take my place in the front row. Her lips move, and her words dance around the room. I don’t hear her though. My attention is solely on the way her body moves. Her neck muscles twisting. Her tendrils of arm flesh shifting under each movement. The bandage scratching against the bottom of her pant legs, waiting for me to unravel the layers. No one knows that there are chunks missing from her body, pieces of flesh that are inside of me now. How could anyone even imagine that my body is digesting her, taking her nutrients and transforming them so that I’m a better, more complete person?

I’m in awe of my little morsel.

I’m so lucky to have found her.

Chapter 21

After class, the wheelchair rattles over the cement like chains, and the zoo lion roars, but Mona laughs, not noticing the racket. During the ride from the lecture hall to her office, Mona keeps a smug smirk on her lips. The college students side-eye her, and a few professors gawk. No one asks any questions though.

I can see Mona enjoys the rumors and the controversy. There’s a sort of power in it.

We roll inside of the elevator, and luckily, the wheelchair hides my erection. We exit on the fourth floor. I give Mona a hand as she walks up the ramp to her desk chair, then I take my seat on the other side.

Since her desk is on a riser, I’m in a lower position than her; it doesn’t bother me though, because I’m confident now. I have Mona right where I want her. And I can admit that I have cannibalistic tendencies, but the fact is that I haven’t eaten a whole person yet, so I’m not really a cannibal. Besides, I haven’t eaten from her body without her consent. She wants it too. A cannibal doesn’t wait for the meat’s permission to eat it; a cannibal simply takes.

“Give me another toe,” I say, my fingers thrumming my thigh. My dick pokes a tent in my pants. I’m aware that I’m being overly persistent, but it’s so close. I know she’ll give it to me if I just ask her the right way. “I’ll wait for it if I have to.”

A grin crowds her pursed lips. “I know you will.”

She gestures for me to come back around the desk. I walk up the ramp until our feet are on the same level, then I look down at her.

She pulls my shirt until I’m on my knees between her spread thighs. She murmurs, “Tell me, love. What would you do to me?”

I exhale slowly. There’s no camera in her hands for once, but she has floor-to-ceiling windows, and there are cameras set up throughout her office. I should assume she’s recording with those devices, as I should assume that she’s still using me for her project.

Art is what brought her to me though, and I’m not going to stop reaching for what I want because we’re on display. Being watched right now is the least of my worries, especially when I’m so close to capturing the woman of my dreams.

My chest swells, and my blood vessels open up for that sweet, fantastical ecstasy. I’m on my knees, bowing before Mona right now, but in this position, I don’t feel small.

I’ve eaten parts of her, and that gives me strength. Over others. Over her.

And I can take charge of what I want.

I swipe the contents off of her desk. Papers, books, pens, and paints crash to the floor. Mona’s mouth gapes, her lips wet, her eyelids heavy with lust. I cup her ass and carry her, then lie her down on the desk. She bites her bottom lip, and I push the straps of her blouse from her shoulders.

She’s a sacrifice on my altar. The mother of a feast. My little morsel warming under the heat lamp.

“I’d chain you to a bed,” I say. I kiss and bite and lick her collarbone, then move toward her meaty neck. Goosebumps crest her body, and my own muscles relax as that juicy warmth spreads over me. My lips hover over her neck, and fuck me, prepared the right way, her esophagus would taste like pork rinds. My body grows taller, stronger, wider, as I embrace that sensation: my control over her.

“These goosebumps,” I murmur. “I’d shave you to keep your textures nice and smooth. I’d fry your skin until it was nice and crispy. I’d cut off small parts of you everywhere, my little morsel, fucking everywhere”—I nibble on her ear, her cheek, her lip—“until I had to move on to your limbs. I’d cut those too, you know. And let me tell you something, little morsel: I’d fuck you every day and every night, but I would never let you move. We need to keep your flesh tender, don’t we?”

A breath escapes her. “Is that why you insisted on a wheelchair?”

There’s hesitation in her voice, a new tone dancing under her words, and that tone sounds like desire and fear and selfless love wrapped into one. She should be scared. Love is a scary fucking thing; it can ruin you. And we both know she needs this as much as I do.

I’m going to take such good care of her.

“There’s no need to be scared, little morsel,” I say, my heated words breathing over her skin. “I’ll feed you fruits and vegetables. Everything will be organic. You’ll want for nothing. I’ll get you everything you deserve. Only the best for my meat.” I crush the head of my dick, then lower my lips to her ear. “You’ll be sweet inside and out.”

I pull off her pants, and those bandaged toes make my cock so painfully hard that I can barely move.

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