Page 3 of A Song of Death and Desire

“What’s your name beautiful?”

“Kairi,” I respond, giving him my real name. It’s not like he will remember it after today, anyway.

He takes my hand and leads me to a nearby diner, talking about the surf this morning the whole way, having been out there early this morning. I knew he was a surfer boy.

“Do you like the ocean?” he enquires.

“You could say that. I practically live there,” I reply with a smirk.

After finding a place to sit in the busy diner and perusing the menu I excitedly order a burger and fries. Apart from the sex, food is the best part of being human.

We wait for our meals while Sam tells me more about himself. I'm not at all interested, but I’m great at playing pretend. As long as I laugh here and there, look at him from beneath myeyelashes, and make sure to touch him at every opportunity—just a brush of arms or legs—he will remain interested.

My disinterest is a way of protecting myself and my heart. I want to experience love more than I think I have ever wanted anything. When I first started coming to land, I sought out connections trying to fill the void that was starting to grow within me. I tried to get to know the men I inevitably went home with. I engaged fully in the conversations I had with others, desperate to learn anything and everything about them. I love talking to people and am generally very sociable. However, conversing with humans on a more personal level caused me to return to the ocean feeling despondent and alone. A connection, however fleeting, reminds me of what I don’t have, what I can't have. Human men are for breeding and nothing else. Any relationship with a human is forbidden and has the potential to be a threat to our species, and that is why I now just use humans for my satisfaction.

When our food arrives, I dive in, moaning at the deliciousness of the burger that coats my mouth. I glance up at Sam, having momentarily forgotten where I am and my purpose. “Sorry," I mumble. Feeling a little embarrassed by the way I shoveled the food into my face.

“Don't be sorry," he laughs, and his cheeks redden as I notice him reach down to adjust his cock in his pants. I pretend to act coy but am pleased that he seems to be an easy catch. If the simple act of moaning can get him hard, then this is not going to require much effort. After Sam pays for our meals— because I have no money—we walk around, enjoying the sunshine.

“So, do you think you might want to come back to my place for a bit?” he asks nervously. Goddess, he's sweet. A bit boring, but sweet.

“Where do you live, gorgeous?” I ask, grabbing hold of his hand.

“Not far from here," he responds in a voice filled with excitement. He was surprised that I agreed so readily. He has no idea that I have him wrapped around my little finger.

“Let’s go," I say, with a touch more demand in my tone than I've used with him so far. Now that I've had one of the best meals of all time, I'm becoming impatient. I don't want to engage in small talk anymore, but I try to regain my sweet and flirty faux personality.

Some men are so easy to get into bed, no strings attached. But some try to at least pretend to be interested in something other than sex. They want to get to know me and build some emotional connection before “making love” or whatever they tell themselves it is. It’s kind, and I do admire the attempts, but it’s not what I’m interested in. I'm grateful that today I seemed to pick someone that is all too willing to get me home.

We walk side by side and hand in hand, the silence only broken by an occasional hum of my song to keep any second thoughts he may have at bay. Our songs play on emotions. We can enhance or remove them. In this case, I'm enhancing the desire that already exists and quieting any worries about coming on too strong.

We reach an apartment building, and my impatience makes me fidgety as we take the elevator to the third floor, and he leads me through the front door.

“Bedroom,” I order, and he immediately leads me there.

Fucking finally.

I push him onto the bed, straddling his waist as I work on undressing him. He laughs as I lift his shirt to expose his torso and can't help but run my tongue over his abs, breathing in his scent as I do so.

Delicious. I wish I could take a bite.

“Woah, easy tiger. Someone is eager," he says, grinning wide. I ignore him, focusing on getting him out of his clothes as quickly as possible.

I undo his pants, sliding them down his toned thighs along with his boxer briefs, and quickly rid myself of my clothes. Sam lays on the bed, hands under his head, gazing at me with lust-filled eyes as his cock stands, beautifully erect. Heat develops between my legs, and I waste no time climbing back up to resituate myself on top of him. His breathing quickens with arousal as I wrap my hands around his length, giving it a couple of firm strokes. I rub a bead of precum into the head and as more forms, slicken his shaft with it.

“Fuuuck," he moans, lifting his hips to thrust into my hand. “I want to feel you. I need to be inside you. You're so beautiful,” he rambles.

He reaches to his side and grabs a condom from his nightstand, quickly rolling it down his cock. When it’s on, I position him to my entrance. I want hard and fast. I don’t even take the time to make sure that I’m ready for him. I lower onto him, letting out a sigh as he enters me. There’s a sharp bite of pain as he fills me that quickly morphs into a sensation of fullness that warms my core. I take what I want in these transactions, giving very little in return. I like to be in power.

I need to be.

I rock myself back and forth upon him, slowly at first. He grips my hips and his fingers dig in. He moves me in a way that speeds up the pace, thrusting into me from below as I chase my release. I rest one hand behind me to balance on his leg. The other hand grabs my breast, rolling the nipple between my fingers. I throw my head back with a groan and continue the pace he sets for us. The only sounds are our moans and skin slapping together in a primal way. I careen toward the chasm of my climax and use the fingers playing with my nipple to reach down and circle my clitinstead. A few quick movements, just the way I like it, and like a wave, my orgasm crashes over me. As I'm coming down, Sammy lets out a low, long moan, shuddering under me as he fills the condom. There's no chance of pregnancy for me right now but that isn’t going to stop me being careful. Sirens reach fertile age at around twenty-five, and I’m getting close, so I’m not going to risk someone taking me bare as I am not at all ready to have a child.

As our breaths slow, I roll onto my side next to him. He looks back at me in contentment. I let him wrap his arms around me, and for a single moment, I allow myself to enjoy the feeling of being close to someone. I begin to hum, and in seconds, he falls asleep. I dress myself and let myself out of his apartment, not even bothering to give ourselves time to clean up. He won't remember much other than a vague understanding that he brought someone home to sleep with. It's better this way.

With the day drawing to a close, my body starts to feel pulled back to the ocean and I have no choice but to comply. The call of the ocean is relentless, it won’t give me up. I technically still have plenty of time left but already I feel the need to return. The prickling sensations that feel like tiny needles start at my feet and begin to work their way upward. I know that if I stay on land, this pain will intensify. There have been two occasions in the past where my curiosity got the better of me and I tested what would happen if I pushed the twenty-four-hour rule. When I was close to my time being up, I felt like I was dying. The pain was excruciating. I had no choice but to return, dragging and crawling my pain-ridden body to the shore until I could experience the instant relief of the cool water. Faced with the decision of returning to the ocean or death, it’s an easy choice isn’t it?

Chapter 3

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