Page 198 of Evil Hearts

Zenith huffs, sucking the head of my cock into her mouth instead of answering. My chest feels as though it caves in fromthe force of the pleasure. I force myself to grip the seat of the bench on either side of my thighs to keep from grabbing her and taking what I want from her mouth. Her dark eyes flick up to me, alight with challenge as she begins to slowly slide down the length. My claspers wiggle and lash, desperate to take hold of something, her wrist no longer satisfactory, when they come into contact with her cheeks. The claspers stroke and secrete all over her skin, making it glow in the dim light of the moon that comes through the glass ceiling.

She’s so beautiful it hurts to breathe, but I manage until she sucks my cock like a trained professional. Her cheeks hollow, her tongue doing this exquisite series of figure eights against the sensitive underside of the head. Pre-cum pours into her mouth like a damn fountain, and she sucks every last drop up. Her hand lifts and she toys with my claspers, stroking them like little cocks as she destroys me with her mouth.

My balls draw up tight as the pleasure builds. I let the bench go and finally grab onto her hair.

“I’m going to come.”

She doubles her efforts and my vision goes white as I unload into her mouth.

Date Three

Zenith

“So...you drive ahearse.”

I haven’t taken my eyes off it since it pulled up in front of the townhouse I live in. Painted a deep, shiny black with purple curtains hanging in the rear and suspiciously dark tinted windows, the vehicle doesn’t exactly scream ‘normal’. I didn’t know what to expect going on a date with a lich, but I guess it should have been this. They have a whole thing with death and souls and agony or whatever. I need to do more research.

“There is much room in the back for transportation of my things,” Octavius replies like it’s totally normal that the original purpose of his damn car was the transportation ofdead bodies. If it wasn’t for how good he looks, I might have already booked it back into my place.

He’s dressed like he was for the show; skinny jeans that cling to his thin legs, a fishnet style top, an oversized hoodie, and some combat boots. It should make me feel overdressed, but it doesn’t. I chose a nice skirt and cami for this date. The least this guy could have done was wear a shirt that covers his bellybutton.

“You dislike it,” he says, that unfathomably sexy accent of his thick and luscious. “However, it will be most comfortable for our date.”

My eyes widen and flick toward the stretched back area, imagining myself cold and unmoving and, of course, with a terribly unflattering expression frozen forever by rigor mortis. Digging through my purse, I go to pull out my knife, but Octavius is standing right beside me. Yelping, I nearly drop my bag, but he catches it and returns it to my trembling hands. His pale gray eyes stare into mine; his expression so neutral there needs to be a new name for it.

“You’re afraid of me.” One of his hands comes up, ghosting over the side of my face, sending a shiver down my spine. “You do not need to be. I will never hurt you, would never.”

“Forgive me if your word doesn’t exactly do it for me. I don’t know you,” I snap.

“You did not know Dante or Leander either; still, you had entirely pleasant dates with them. I am not alive but also not dead, and that makes you uncomfortable.”

I stomp my foot and huff. “It’s not my fault that death gives me the creeps!”

“So I give you these ‘creeps’?” he asks.

“Yes!” The exasperation in my voice makes me wince.Holy shit, I’m being a total bitch. Frowning, I cross my arms over my chest, hugging myself. “I just need to get over it. When I couldn’t see you, I was totally fine, so I should be fine if we just get on with it.”

Octavius doesn’t respond or move. I lift my gaze to his face and he is frowning gently.

“You are allowed to be uncomfortable. I am sorry for the displeasure I cause you.” He looks toward his hearse. “I can find another way for us to have this date—another car perhaps.”

“No, no, no. Please, I really want to go on this date with you now.” I shift my purse under one arm and take his hand. “I’m sure I’m being overly dramatic, let’s go have a great time.”

He flinches when I make contact, but he relaxes when I hold his fingers tenderly. He stares down at our connected hands, his expression unreadable.

I’m starting to think maybe I should get a monster expression interpreter because I’m sick of not knowing what the hell these guys are thinking.

Giving his hand a small squeeze, I tug him toward the creepy car and gesture to the door with my chin. “Wanna get the door for me?”

“Yes,” he says, snapping out of whatever daze my taking his hand shunted him into. He releases me and pulls the passenger side door open. I slip in with a playful wink.

“Thanks, handsome.”

A hearse pulls up to a cliff at the edge of a graveyard...no, that’s not the opening to a bad joke, that’s the date. We are in a graveyard, a pretty damn old one by the looks of the half-eroded headstones.

“Allow me,” Octavius murmurs as he helps me from my seat and onto the overgrown grass.

“Thanks,” I say numbly, looking around for any signs of life. In the distance there are crowds of people wearing all black and standing in a sort of huddled formation, and the last thing I want to do is crash a funeral to get away from a weird date.

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