Morsel

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The last pulses of pleasure course through me like a tidal wave, cum splattering my palm and the cement.

I open my eyes and find Mona and Artemis staring at me like I’m the finale of their show.

“Was that good?” Mona asks.

Her mouth is open and wet. She enjoyed watching me come, then.

Artemis grins next to her, and my throat tightens. Is Mona being serious, or are they laughing at me?

I shrug. “It was fine.”

Mona limps toward the house; she must be sore from either the fucking or the hogtie. My shoulders expand, knowing the effect I have on her body. She hobbles inside, probably to clean up.

I take that as my signal to leave. I get dressed in the guest room and bring my duffel bag to the backyard to gather the rope. A partially bitten apple lies by the fire, and a chunk of the fruit’s flesh hangs by the red skin, the spot where Mona bit when she was my pig roast.

My head buzzes, the sensation fluttering down to my knuckles. I curl my fists. Wasting food is an insult, especially when it’s food that’s good for your health. Mona shouldn’t be eating meat; she should be eating fruit.

I zip up the bag, then I stand by the fire and finish the apple.

Footsteps clop against the stone flooring, too weighty to be Mona.

It’s fucking Artemis.

My skin crawls. If I leave now, he’ll think I’m weak and bowing down to his authority.

And I’m not fucking weak.

“She’s in bed now,” Artemis says.

My jaw clenches. Did he tuck her into bed like a princess? Why is he babying her like she’s some kind of fragile doll?

Does that irritate me because I’m jealous, or because I don’t understand why he’d waste his time like that?

He’s not into this like we are, and even if I try to teach him, he never will be. He’s a coward, and a coward can’t hunt a woman like a predator can.

A cigarette hangs from his mouth, the cherry burning like a single red eye.

“You’re not into sexual cannibalism,” I say.

“But I can appreciate it for her, ” he says. “If Mona wants it, then I do it, you know? And it’s kind of hot, right?”

I laugh, the frustration flickering inside of me. Kind of hot. Go fuck yourself, Artemis.

I narrow my eyes like he’s disgusting scum clinging to the bottom of my boots. That loose leather jacket hangs on his frame now. He must think wearing animal skin makes him tough. I bet the leather is fake though, the fucking pussy.

I shudder. How can Mona like a wimp like him? Does she prefer men like him over me?

No. Of course not. She doesn’t. She can’t like men like him. That would give her too much power. Based on Mona’s personal ad and her request to fuck her like she’s my meat, I know she wants to be objectified. To be powerless. To be controlled.

And the idiot here asked her for her permission every single time.

“Why did you do that?” I ask.

A smirk dances on Artemis’s lips. “Do what?”

“Ask for permission every time you did something.”

“Did that bother you?”

“Of course it did. You sounded weak.”

Both of us are silent, our eyes locked on each other. Two animals circling, waiting for the weaker one to back down. The pressure in the air thickens as a realization dawns on me.

I’m a hypocrite. I’ve been waiting and giving Mona a chance to decide what she wants. She even cut her leg and bled for me, and I was the coward who ran away. I’m more like Artemis than I want to admit.

With me, it’s different though. Artemis is obedient to her every whim, and I’m only asking because I don’t want to scare her away. I want her to see everything I have to offer before she reaches her final decision about me.

“You do understand that we’re powerless, right?” Artemis says. “Mona knows exactly what she wants. She may enjoy being sexually submissive, but submissives are always in control. It doesn’t matter when or how, but she can revoke her consent at any time. All women can.”

My mind morphs, molding his words until they vibrate inside of my brain and take on new meaning.

She can revoke your power.

Your right over her body.

Your ownership.

You don’t deserve her.

I shake my head and force myself back to the present. “No,” I say.

“No?”

“She knows what I want too.” I rub my nose. “What we want.”

“Sure, but we?—”

I stop listening. He’s just like the sex workers, except he’s worse because he’s obviously using Mona for sex. He will never actually like sexual or romantic cannibalism like we do; he’s only doing it so he can fuck her.

For a second, I tune into his ranting. His voice drags on. “Which is why we should always ask?—”

“But I can overpower them,” I interrupt.

Artemis’s eyes widen to the size of summer sausages. Is he shocked?

Or maybe he’s afraid.

A thrill creeps through my body and fills me with adrenaline. I like scaring him.

“Them?” he asks. “What do you mean? Are you talking about overpowering women in general or specific women?”

“Her,” I correct myself. “Mona.”

Ever since my mother died, I’ve stayed back. Kept quiet. Bounced around. I’ve avoided the government, but when it comes down to it, I’ve played by the rules. I’ve done the right thing. And at thirty years old, I’ve earned the right to control someone like her.

Artemis rattles on in disagreement. I block him out. He leans back, away from me. A stem of smoke rises from his cigarette, and I smirk this time. Mona doesn’t smoke, and that means her lungs are still good. Her organs are fresh for me.

The memory of my mother lying on the kitchen table fills my mind. Her stomach wound was caked green, and her mouth was empty. A cave. A hole I could reach into to take what I needed.

The tongue is one of my favorite organs.

I wonder what Mona’s tongue tastes like.

“All of us are driven by our primal instincts,” I interrupt his unheard monologue. I look down at Artemis. “Food is the main drive for survival. And with my size, I’m capable of getting what I want out of prey, including Mona. That’s part of why Mona is attracted to someone like me. I’m not afraid of society’s expectations.” I sneer. “I’ll get it fucking done.”

“In a way, you’re right,” Artemis says slowly. “This is roleplaying though. It’s simply a game to her.” He lifts his shoulders. “Mona likes conquering the unexplored, and that’s all this is. We’re not actually going to eat her.”

I laugh, but it hurts, like his words are stabbing me in the lungs.

He’s right. Humans aren’t supposed to eat other humans.

Maybe Mona does have power. Since the first time we met in that art gallery’s bathroom, warning bells have chimed, telling me to stay away from her. Those bells get quieter every day.

Maybe she’s going to eat me alive, chew me up, and spit me back out like everyone else has.

Maybe I’m okay with that, as long as I get to eat her too.

“I should get going,” Artemis says. “You should too.”

I throw my bag strap over my shoulder. “What about the fire?”

“I’ll put it out.” He angles toward the front of the house. “I’ve got to fly out for work soon, and I’m sure you know how she gets. Take care of her while I’m gone, all right, kid?”

His hand slams onto my shoulder, his teeth clamped down in a smile, like a patronizing asshole. He can’t be that much older than me, and yet he says his words like he has the supreme authority over her. Like he owns Mona.

I grind my teeth and nod anyway, then I head through the house to the front door.

I’ll take care of her, all right, just not in the same way he would.