Valentine

Valentine.  That is what they called him.  No one knew his real name, not even he.  He was an imp, remade in the image of lust.  Lips flavored with lust and cherries.  Hair scented of chocolate.  Always surrounded by beautiful women, each of them vying for a piece of his attention, a bit of his time.  And he would give them all a little chunk of himself.  A kiss on the lips here.  A caress of the cheek there.  The barest brush of skin against skin, and it would send them swooning into the crowd.  But with every fragment of himself that he gave away, he felt that he was losing himself.  A gentle caress of lips against mouth and there went some small bit of his soul.

After many years and many holes made in his soul, he started to wear a simple, but ornate mask to hide the despair he felt at the loss of himself.  But, still he continued to cater to the women's wants, a caress of an arm here.  A seductive whisper into an ear there.  And still, each time, a small part of himself left with the woman.  There was no need to worry about if he was losing himself; he already had.  And none of the women that clamored for his attention noticed his lack of self.  Whether it was because they couldn't see the difference or if they just didn't care, he wasn't sure.

There was one woman that interested him, though.  She stays at the outter edges of the group, never trying very hard to garner his attention, which was rare for any woman when around him.  He watches her slip away from the group after watching for a while, never getting her allotment of him.  Even though she has never vied for his attention, that doesn't keep her from coming to watch the activities of the other women each night, without fail.

Approaching dawn one night, she was still hanging about the edges of the room when the rest of the crowds had cleared out.  It was late.  Or perhaps it was early. It really depending on how one looked at it.  To Valentine, though, it was late, and he was tired of passing himself around like a platter for the women to take morsels from as they pleased.  Unfortunately, all he wanted was to curl up and sleep, but her presence meant that he would not allow a display of such weakness as needing sleep.

"Is there something I can help you with," Valentine asked, his deep voice rumbling deep in his chest.

"I just want my portion.  I figure if I waited for a while, I could get a bigger piece of you all at once, instead of just little bits here and there," she said, her voice soft in the cavernous room.

"What piece of me exactly is it you think you get of me?" he asked, his suspicions bouncing off the walls and ricocheting back into the center of the room.

"Just a larger portion than what you give to the women every night.  I'm here every night, but I don't take my share.  I'm here for what I'm owed," she said, her voice rather matter-of-fact in its bluntness.

Wanting to get rid of her as quickly as possible so that he could go to sleep, he approached her, reaching out with his right hand for her.  Gliding his hand across her cheek and into her hair, he fisted his fingers in her tresses, angling her head to the side.  Pressing his mouth to her lips, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, teasing her with little flicks of the muscle against her own.  His left hand rested on her shoulder, holding her against his chest, her hands clutching at his back.  His tongue slid against hers, sucking it into his mouth, driving her pleasure higher, feeling a large chunk of himself breaking off.

She moaned into his mouth, delight evident in her vocalization.  Her fingers dug into his back, her nails digging into his flesh almost like claws.  It would probably leave marks, but she didn't care.  All she cared about was her own wants and desires.  What he wanted was of no concern to her.  She felt him beginning to pull away, but she wasn't ready to let go yet, so she used her grip on his back to hold him to her.  She could feel blood trickling out from between her fingers, but felt no distress over the matter.  She still didn't feel she'd received her due.

Valentine, in an effort to get rid of the woman quicker, poured all of himself into the kiss, holding nothing back for himself, hoping to satisfy her desires.  He emptied himself out completely, giving everything to her.  Finally, the woman released him, licking his blood off her fingers as she moved to lean against the wall of the room.

"You've got your lot.  Now leave me in peace," Valentine growled, turning his bleeding back on the greedy woman.

"I'll see you later, lover," the woman said, licking her lips, getting all traces of his blood off them.

Valentine sighed as she walked out.  "I have nothing left to give," he said as he faded into nothing.