Claudia D. Christian

Estimated reading time: 2 – 4 minutes

“All right. I’ll  do it. I’ll do it, Sophie. I’ll do anything as long as you come back. Please.”

Narcissus’ hope wilted. The damning specter remained tucked away from him. He looked about the sterile room, hoping to find Sophie hovering above in wretched condemnation. No such luck.

He turned his beaten gaze to the pretty slab of meat lying on the table. Narcissus rolled his shoulders back in precise deliberation. He buried the sensations tickling his heart. He quieted the voice telling him he should’ve never tried. His exquisite eyes deepened to a maudlin shade of bruise.

Narcissus became the man he had never left behind.

A lascivious grin molded his full lips. Dirty intentions smothered purity, leaving him to stretch his body over Chessie.

He felt vulgar. He felt trashed. He felt like himself.

He feathered his lips over Chessie’s. Her cool skin tasted of candy. Narcissus slid his tongue past the lips guarding her insides. He slinked inside like a man walking over a grave—cautious, quick, and more than a little afraid.

Memories blacked his mind in staccato bursts. In and out like his tongue. Narcissus kept his eyes closed. He traveled over Chessie, mouth tasting, never forgetting, but sometimes mixing Lisette with her new-old form.

He had never had the pleasure of Chessie keeping so still. She had always been a violent storm wrapped in a tiny box. Biting, scratching, and slapping her favorite tokens of affection. Making love to Chessie now without pain seemed a benevolent gift from Sophie. Perhaps, he had been too hasty in thinking this profane.

“Oh, sweetheart, you taste so good.” Narcissus sighed this against her gashed neck. His lips pressed against the split skin, seeing it as another way inside Chessie. Old blood withered his restraint. His fangs elongated, greedy to impale dead flesh.

“Chessie, open for me.”

“Wider.”

“More.”

“Don’t be shy, my darling. Just a bit more.”

He whispered each entreaty deeper inside her. His fingers scrabbled past the shroud. They bared Chessie’s small nipples to his adoring touch. Narcissus worked them, rolling, pinching, pulling in a maddened desire to coax her body back to life.

“Chessie, you like this don’t you?”

“You feel me, darling? You feel what you do to me?”

“I would love you forever, sweetheart.”

“I can’t remember why you would cut yourself open for me.”

Narcissus grinded against her. He panted, hissed, moaned. He imagined the wet squelch beneath his lips was Chessie answering in tandem.

He unbuttoned his slacks with practiced fingers. His cock strained against the briefs holding him back. Narcissus widened his legs to stretch hers. They pushed open, small lily feet falling off the table.