Page 39 of Cuervo's Carnival
Leaning into this feeling, I’m about to close my eyes, when I notice we are on a seat similar to the one in Amontillado's Mortuary. This one, however, is more worn. My eyes squint, trying to make out what the small etchings say on the top, but the moan he unleashes from the way he is now going at my aroused nipples steals my attention.
His kisses trail up to my neck, before whispering, “Stand up, my wickeddiosa.”
My head tilts as his mouth continues to spread kisses on my skin. I remove myself from his lap, breaking free from his kisses, when he tears at my waistband.
“Sit on my face,” he growls, with my shorts now down on the ash-covered ground.
“Cillian—” I begin.
“I said, sit on my fucking face now, Lola,” his tone is just as demanding as it is desperate for a reprieve from the fear I know is toying with him. I’m about to ask where Paxton is, but he begins lifting me up and onto his ready mouth.
He invades my slick entrance with a swipe of his tongue before pressing my pussy onto his mouth, suffocating him, and the feeling of him consuming me halts my swirling mind. Suddenly, I feel what Cillian does, when anxiety and stress make him crave me and Pax’s touch. There is something so comforting in being able to express emotion without words when it results in euphoric pleasure without the confines of conversation.
My eyes close and, for a moment, the noises, the questions, the worry, vanish.
Rolling my hips, I press my sex deeper against his tongue, suffocating him with my thighs clamped against the sides of his face.
He hums against my pussy, which causes every stroke of his tongue to vibrate against my slit, increasing the way he devours me.
Fast, languid flicks of his tongue relentlessly penetrate, along with his moans that are muffled at my aching cunt. Squeezing my thighs around his head, he continues his vicious licks, until my body convulses against his face.
“That’s it,” he mutters into my pulsing pussy. “Come for me.”
My chest rises and falls, and tingles spread throughout my body as I begin to grind against his face with my finish.
He releases a satisfied moan into my sex that echoes against my swollen walls.
I continue to ride the waves of my orgasm as he lowers me so I am now straddling his lap, when my gaze slips past his eyes and back to the etching on the seat I had already forgotten about.
There, in the center of the broken seat I just rode his face on, is the word “Nevermore.”
I read the word again, and the message from the ride comes back to me, along with every cryptic thing Madame Eronel said.
The distraction I just had with Cillian, although delicious, threw me off.
Once more, I feel it. The voice returns, pinging at my eardrums and, with it, a subtle gust of wind that seems to only affect me.
Worry paints my face, and I feel Cillian grab hold of my hand.
“What’s wrong,Morta?” Ah, the name I usually love so much is now bringing those chills back from my conversation with Madame Eronel.
Tilting my head back from his, I look behind where we sit. “Nothing. Where is Pax?” I ask, genuinely wondering where the fuck he is.
“Ah, fuck. He said he had to do something and would text me. Let me check,” he says, searching for his phone.
Rising up from where I have been entangled with Cillian, I hear against the eerie silence what appears to be music playing.
I begin walking into the open area in front of us, with Cillian trailing behind me, still messing with his phone. The faint volume increases with each step closer we take, until it finally becomes audible.
“Is that Blue Oyster Cult playing?”
“Fucking sounds like it,” he answers, sounding just as confused as I am.
“Pax texted. He said to meet him by the Ferris wheel,” Cillian says, putting his phone back in his pocket before taking hold of my hand.
We walk closer to where the music plays a favorite song of mine, but I’ll admit, considering our surroundings and the night we are having, it’s an odd song choice on Pax’s part.
As our strides continue, “Don’t Fear the Reaper” ominously echoes in the still air, reminding me of Madame Eronel’s warning.
