Heavy Metal Heart

by Nico Rosso

  Which was it? Finding out meant more of her taste, more of her body against him. More of the only woman in the world. She’d found him, leaving what she understood behind. After bringing her into his world, he wondered whose life was being shaken more. She might deliver death. Or a different way of surviving after thousands of years. He had to know what was next. With her. He had to feed. It was the only way to know if she truly was his Muse.

  She stood in front of him, the room and bed before her. Some strands of her hair had pulled free of the ponytail, but most were still secure, revealing her long neck. He reached out and slid his fingers up that smooth neck. She shivered a little and leaned back into him.

  He spoke into her ear. “Like marble, carved by a master.”

  When she turned to him, her eyes were not filled with the wonderment of a newly awakened statue. “No one made me. I made me.”

  He nodded. “There isn’t a conjurer with the skill to create a beauty like you. With that will of yours.”

  Those pretty lips could curl so wicked. “You’re just lucky I’m willing to walk into this room with you.”

  “Luck’s for the weak.” His hand was still on her neck. He pulled her toward him. “We take what we need.”

  Her mouth was open in the kiss. Could she be as hungry as him? Instead of feeding him, this woman might devour all he had, all the energy he’d collected through the years. If there was anyone to destroy him, he wanted it to be her. At least he would die seeking the next touch. He kissed her back, hard. Bringing their bodies together, muscle and fabric and sweat and skin. Bring death. Bring whatever was next. As long as he had as much of her as he could before the end.

  * * *

  She still spun from the orgasm. The kiss thinned her blood, making it feel as if she danced in air. But she was still grounded, Trevor with her, pressed hard against her chest. Through the gaps in her tousled clothes, his skin found hers. He still held the back of her neck. His other hand tugged at her shirt and gripped her hip.

  He truly was taking her kiss. And she gave it willingly. And he continued to take, like he’d never get enough. His tongue tested and teased hers. She bit his lip. He growled into her mouth. Balling a fist into his open shirt, she pulled him closer. Maybe neither of them would ever get enough.

  The door was closed. There was no audience. No performance. He wasn’t Trevor Sand anymore. He was a man. Barely contained in his clothes. Kissing her with abandon. Gripping her. Sexy as hell.

  She pushed against his shirt, dragging it off his arms. He pulled her top over her head. The black beads of her necklace danced back down against her skin. Her body collected the smallest touch.

  Trevor made her bra disappear in a flash. He took a few steps back to look her over. Topless, fly undone, wet panties tangled against her pussy. Her first impulse was to shy away, cover her naked need.

  “Fuck it.” She put her hands on her hips and stared back at him.

  His eyes moved over her. She could almost feel the gaze as it licked along her. When he brought his look to her face, she was almost knocked back by the intensity. Primal hunger. “Fuck who?”

  It wasn’t role-playing. She might be able to pretend to be the snapping bitch or the secret sexy librarian. But those were just masks. Instead of taking on a part, she looked deeper into herself. Where the real power was.

  “Fuck me.”

  He drew a breath through bared teeth. More than animal, he was elemental. Raw need and the will to take what he wanted.

  Trevor approached, his eyes still fixed on hers. She yanked the tie of her ponytail and stood her ground. Even the cascade of her hair against her back brought a shiver of sensation. What would happen when he touched her again?

  In the dim light, the sweat on his chest and arms showed the lines of his muscles. Tattoos revealed history in the shapes of sailing vessels, twisted ancient trees and archaic musical instruments. Beneath the ink, Trevor was alive, coming closer and closer.

  He whispered reverent curses in a foreign language.

  “Is that Greek?” she asked.

  For each move closer, it seemed he was too far from her skin. Coming against his hand was a distant memory. She needed more.

  “I’m writing a song. You flee me, jump from the cliffs into the crashing sea. But there is no solace for you there. The rocks crush to diamonds beneath your body. The water boils away from your searing skin.”

  “And you find me. Because I have nowhere else to run.” She stepped forward, placing her hands on his hips. “And once you have me, you...?”

  Just the tips of his fingers ran down between her breasts. “I die.”

  “Leaving me alone.” She hooked her hand into his waistband and tugged him nearer.

  “I die giving you everything.” The flesh of his chest against hers, he kissed her collarbone. Her neck. “You have everything.” His hands ran up her back.

  She slid her fingers into his jeans and wrapped them around his erection. “Don’t die yet.”

  He breathed long and slow. She freed his cock from his open jeans and stroked the length. His kisses turned to teeth. No blood was drawn, but the marks of his intent were clear on her skin.

  If there wasn’t some release soon, it seemed one of them could die. Still gripping him, she walked them backward. Up two carpeted steps. Trevor stopped when the backs of his legs hit the bed.

  She was on the platform, looking down on the city outside the windows. She climbed higher. Turning from him, she slid onto the bed. He moved to follow, but she placed her palms on his chest, stopping him at the foot of the bed. She knelt on the blankets in front of him. Baring her nails, she scratched down his ribs and stomach. She wrapped both hands around his cock. He groaned and surged forward.

  Slow, so he could watch, she licked her lips. She leaned down and brought his head to her mouth. A kiss. A flick of the tongue. He breathed out another foreign language. Salted with sweat, he reminded her of the sea he’d conjured in the new song. He was so hard, though, it would be impossible to break him against her body. She could try.

  Opening her mouth wider, she took him inside. The head and shaft filled her. She breathed slow, slid him deeper. His body shuddered. The muscles beneath her hands were rigid with restraint. She paused with the tip of his cock against her throat. He moaned a low growl. His fingers ran through her hair.

  Just as slowly as she brought him in, she moved his cock back out of her mouth. His muscles shook. Slick with her saliva, his shaft was easy to glide her hand along. She gave the head another kiss, then glanced up at him. A fire blazed in his eyes, but everything else was so restrained. Incredible for someone as wild as Trevor Sand. But she knew it would all break free.

  Stroking his length again, she brought her mouth back down. This time she quickened the pace. Arching her back, rocking her body. She used her hand as well as her lips. He pumped with her rhythm.

  His hand untangled from her hair and palmed her breast. The nipple rubbed against his rough skin. He caught it between his fingers and pinched. The ignored fires in her body reawakened. Her pussy was still wet and needing to be touched.

  He must’ve sensed her desire by the way she swiveled. Reaching down along her body, he tugged at her hip. She moved until she was on all fours along the edge of the mattress. Her head was still in front of him, but her body stretched off to his right. He pushed hard on her jeans, dragging them and her panties halfway down her ass. Shifting so his cock was again in reach, he leaned to her.

  “Open your lips.”

  She remained frozen, not quite sure what he meant.

  “You said I could fuck your mouth after you came.”

  It was too late to blush. She parted her lips and waited. His left hand ran over her hair and gently held her head in place. He brought the tip of his cock to her mouth and tested slowly into her. Willing,
she sucked on his length as it entered. Moaning in approval, he slid his right hand along her back. Strong fingers delved past what remained of her clothes on her ass. As he moved his cock into her mouth, he slid his fingers over her wet pussy. She arched her back, aligning her opening with him.

  He drew his erection out. When it slid back into her mouth, he entered her folds with his finger. Her moan vibrated along the length between her lips. He whispered his approval and quickened his pace. She was filled with him. Her sensitive tongue felt every ridge of his shaft. Yearning for even more, she pushed her pussy back to meet his thrusting finger. He moved faster. She rocked with him, was shaken by him. The old gold blanket twisted into her fists. He thrust into her mouth. Plunged through her sex.

  Enough light gathered in the room to reflect her image back from the dark windows. Like watching another life. But was her. On all fours. Rocking back against Trevor’s hand. With her head held in place as he thrust his hips, pumping in and out of her mouth.

  Another climax grew. It would tear her apart, with only him holding strong enough to keep her from disappearing. She moaned over his cock, faster and faster with each breath. His finger plunged deeper inside her. So close, then she could all let it go.

  Then it all stopped. She blinked, trying to catch her bearings. Trevor was gone. No, he was one step away. But he wasn’t touching her anymore. His chest heaved with quick breaths. The fire still blazed in his eyes.

  “Not yet.” He seemed as close to the edge as she was. “I have to taste you when you come.”

  Tremors shook her. Los Angeles was under constant threat of earthquakes. She understood that tension. So much energy had built in her, the release could destroy everything. Shake it all down to the foundations. God, she needed that.

  She shifted her body so she could undo the buckles on her shoes. He kicked out of his boots and shucked his jeans. When she writhed on the bed to get her jeans off he came forward again. Just the touch of his hands along her legs almost set her off again.

  And then she was completely naked with him. But it wasn’t right.

  “Put my shoes back on.”

  Without hesitation, he collected her shoes and strapped them back on. She leaned back on the bed, lifting her feet to admire the look of the shoes at the ends of her naked legs. He liked what he saw as well. His cock still stood out from his body, all of him poised. Catching his gaze with hers, she spread her legs to him.

  “Now put your mouth on my cunt.”

  He smiled like a carnivore. “Wicked honey from those beautiful lips.”

  “You know what this mouth can do.”

  “Devours me.” His hands slid along her legs. “Destroys me.” He pulled at her hips until her ass was at the edge of the bed. “Breathes life into me.” His words were hot on the inside of her thigh. He leaned lower, kneeling before her.

  Propped up on her elbows, she only saw the top of his head as he brought his mouth to her sex. Hot, slick, his tongue moved firm along her folds. White fire blurred her vision when he reached her clit. She fell completely onto the bed. Lips and teeth and tongue, he coaxed the climax closer again.

  She licked at the air, wanting him in her mouth again. His stubble rasped against her sensitive flesh as he entered her with his tongue. Seeking more sensation, she rubbed her hand against her breast and nipple. Closer, the climax surged to break the tension.

  Trevor withdrew. Only his breath moved against her. No more teasing. She reached toward him. But before she reached his hair to pull him to her sex again, he gently tapped his fingers against her clit. The shockwave traveled up her whole body. Another tap. This one harder. And again. Faster. Harder. This would shatter her. The pace was erratic, she didn’t know when the next one would come.

  A long pause. Then his mouth again covered her pussy. She called out. Her voice soaked into the bed and echoed off the windows. The flat of his tongue rubbed slow over her clit. And she broke apart.

  The climax shook through her. All the tension released. She clutched the blanket, dragging it to collect around her. Her body bucked, while he stayed strong against her. She ground her hips, moving her pearl against him for every last bit of the orgasm.

  Gasping, twisting, shaking. Breath brought her back together. She opened her eyes. The ceiling was paneled in black-lacquered wood. Trevor pulled away and filled her vision. His grin gave her aftershocks.

  His kiss was laced with her sex. More aftershocks.

  He moved back, standing again at the foot of the bed. “Tastes good, doesn’t it? Like a storm at sea.”

  Words were elusive. She tried to collect them. “You’re...some kind of magic.”

  A look of surprise flashed across his face. “You know?”

  “Making me come like that...” And still her body wanted more. She writhed on the bed. “What other tricks do you have?”

  The dark of his eyes went on forever. “No tricks.”

  She gestured him toward her. If she had shattered, then she had been rebuilt clean. None of the extra pieces and rust that had collected over the years. New. And ready to discover more. “Then give me the real you.”

  * * *

  How much did she want? The real him was moss-covered stone, sea spray, ancient oak, the festival fire. Cloven hooves and the horns of a demon. But did she know? Misty might not even recognize the glimmers of magic within her. There must be some sort of sorcery. It was the only explanation for how his hunger grew the more he tasted her. Every touch and lick increased his need. If the legend of the Muse was real, he would gladly spend an eternity of hunger and feasting with her.

  If it was real. As real as him. Whichever part he revealed. There were still no answers. She had her secrets too. Sorceress or Muse. Too many questions clouded the night. Hunger for her gnawed at him. Let her kill him. Let her bring him life forever. It had to happen now.

  He trailed his fingers down her leg, then strode away from the bed. As quick as he could, he retrieved a condom from his wallet and put it on. Returning, he found her lithe body stretched out over the rumpled sheets. That beautiful mouth that had welcomed his cock smiled devilishly. He still felt the force of her as she came with his tongue against her. To be inside her, wrapped completely in her flesh, would that end this hunger?

  No more questions. He died to have her.

  Her sleek legs parted. He took her ankles in his hands and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed. She bit her lower lip and flashed her own thirst in her eyes. With the backs of her legs against his chest, he eased his cock along her folds. Not entering her, but soaking up her heat. Collecting her moisture, drawing it along her slick pussy.

  She moaned, writhing. Reaching down, she guided him to slide harder against her clit. Each push forward, she arched her back. Breath raced faster through her. His own pace increased. The song he’d started earlier was true. Her body would crush him. Her skin would turn him to steam.

  It was welcome destruction. He pulled back and lined up his head with her opening. They both paused. Held breath.

  He sank into her. Her heat surrounded him. Deeper. Until he was at the base of his shaft. He was lost in her. Tight. Yielding and strong. Amazing to look down and see himself disappear into her body. Her hand rested on her lower belly. Her breasts rose and fell with her breath. Her gaze remained on his face.

  She understood his hunger. It was in her look. The smallest grind of her hips asked for more. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

  Drawing out, thrusting forward. Harder. Gripping her ankles. Feeling her flesh against him. Hearing her pleasure.

  His own song lyrics echoed back to him.

  Feeling the disappear

  Inside you

  Hair fanned out around her head in a dark red halo. Clever and long, her fingers rubbed against her clit as he took her. He let go of one of her ankles. She hooked her l
eg around his hip, urging him faster and deeper. Adding his thumb to her fingers, they both ground against her wet pearl.

  His hunger turned. For the first time, he fed from one person. He drew more power from her louder cries of ecstasy than any raging audience. And her heat and energy and strength. In all his years, he’d never known sustenance like her. Everything he’d experienced was stripped away. Years of memory seemed so distant. The power of the crowd dimmed. Their swirling elements were no match for the charge Misty sent through him. One person to another. The electricity held in a singular gaze. His eyes on hers. Or the waves of energy that pulsed from her body into his. They were joined together, the force ebbing and flowing between them. He’d never seen anything like this shimmering light. Gold and red, with shining black veins. It was a new life. Shared only between him and Misty.

  His breath caught. He wasn’t dreaming, or caught in a fantasy. He had never felt so alive. His limbs burned with the new essence as his mind burned with the truth.

  She was the Muse.

  His. Only his. Wrapped around him. Moaning and grinding and racing toward another climax.

  “Come,” he told her. “With me in you. Give it all to me and I’ll give you everything.”

  She let her voice go. It swirled through the room like a storm, pushing the glowing power in waves. He breathed it in, feeding, feeling the life as the red-and-gold light washed through him. And he felt the life of her body as she bucked, coming. The orgasm shook her. He slowed his thrusts so she could savor it. After a series of racing heartbeats, she moved her hand from her clit and scratched at his belly.

  “Give me,” she whispered.

  If they were to crash together, he needed more force. Together, they might knock the walls down, but it would be worth it. He withdrew and crawled onto the bed, gathering her in his arms. She was soft and strong against him. Her nails raked his back as he took the two of them to the head of the bed. He set her down and turned her back to him. With his hands on hers, he made her grip the curved wood headboard.