by Isha Fáng
Ocean’s Heart
Cecalians of Aeonian Book #1
Isha Fáng
Copyright ©2020 Isha Fáng
All rights reserved.
Ocean’s Heart is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover designed by: Vibrant Designs
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in the book reviews.
Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Prologue
1. Arion
2. Arion
3. Arion
4. Arion
5. Kalon
6. Arion
7. Kalon
8. Arion
Listen to me!
Acknowledgments
PSS, come stalk me!!!!!!
Other Books By Isha Fáng
Refrences
Prologue
The reigning King of Aeonian, Orisan, watched as the teller of the deep water floated in the dark. She faced upward, toward the moon’s reflection, illuminated only by her shiny, white hair.
He waited to hear her say a word, a prayer, to cast any kind of light into what the Aeonian could do to survive the curse cast upon his people by an Echidna, all because he had refused to court her, refused to mate.
He had regretted it everyday since then, for if it had not been for his decision and arrogance, his children and citizens wouldn’t have suffered so much.
The white eyed teller was his last and only hope of finding a way to break the curse.
He had traveled far down into the ocean, away from his family and home, deep near the Styx river.
He waited, eyes holding her in sight, his breath locked in his chest, and his hearts thundering inside his half human body.
It was a strange feeling.
Never had he experienced anything such as this.
Her body moved and, fearing he would miss her words, he bit his lip so as to not make a sound.
Her lips parted in a serene smile.
She was beautiful—youthful, ageless, and wise.
He had heard that the tellers never died. Their body was incinerated when their time was up, and their soul migrated into a new vessel. And they always chose a young host that could endure their strong willed soul for centuries.
The water around her made way for him to finally move closer to her.
She circled him, her gaze roving over his being.
The Oracle whispered, words coming out in riddles as she continued to circle around him. The faster she moved, the faster the words came out.
To every beginning, there is an end.
To every end, there is a beginning.
Darkness is nothing but light in the hiding.
It is the path to be chosen for surviving.
Search for the two sisters who sit beside each other.
Abandoned by the two legged creature.
One is facing where the sun rises,
The other where the moon sets
Alone and lonely they sit on the ocean.
Waiting for the life to nurture
One is fertile, the other is dwarf.
They have the answers to curses and cures.
On the night when two moons collide
Watch the ocean writhing and whirling,
Send your pride to claim it.
Fate is waiting, ready and greeting.
Destiny has spoken. Destiny has chosen.
She collapsed, eyes closed, breathing deep and even.
He waited for her to look at him, to make him understand the meaning of her words, to ask her questions that only she could answer.
But when she did, she didn’t give him a chance to speak.
“Find the land of two sisters. That’s where you’ll find the cure for the curse. Something on two legs with two hearts is your only salvation.” She closed her eyes and whispered again. “Go now. My body is at its peak. I cannot help you anymore, and the next vessel is not ready to answer your doubts.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but words failed him. Nothing came out. Nothing at all.
“You will find it. Destiny has spoken. Destiny has chosen.”
Arion
“What did you just say?” I blink several times and just… try to wrap my head around what my brother is spewing.
I mean, what the what?
Did he just say I should visit an oracle? Some witchy voodoo lady, who can see the future? Who can cure unexplained illness?
Like really see it? Like really cure it?
That’s not possible. It’s just a hoax.
All phony tactics to make money and con innocent people.
And I can’t believe Sama’el would suggest something like this… something so superstitious.
“I said, you should visit this lady on Catalina Island. I’ve heard only good things about her. She might know something for your predicament, you know?”
No, I don’t know.
Nobody can do anything about my so-called predicament. Nobody. All the doctors, specialists, everyone I’ve visited around the world have said the same thing to me. There is no cure for my disorder. None at all.
I even resorted to consulting those saints and Ayurvedic doctors in India. I consulted Chinese doctors too. God, you name it and I have visited them to find some sort medicine, or treatment that will at least help me to control the number of orgasms I get.
See, I suffer from Persistent Genital Arousal Disorder (PGAD), and since the diagnosis my life hasn’t been the same.
Hell, my life hasn’t been the same since that day—ten years ago—I suddenly and inexplicably found myself aroused during a board meeting. That was the most awkward day of my life.
My cock jutting out, sudden moans spilling from my throat and echoing through the room, the front of my pants staining with my cum, legs buckling, body tightening in the middle of a presentation while all eyes were on me. It was not only humiliating, but also demoralizing.
Can you imagine, being in a permanent state of sexual arousal for hours and hours throughout the day and never being satisfied? It’s like I’m experiencing heat where nothing will quench my hunger or thirst for pleasure.
PGAD has ruined my career—nothing dramatic like I lost my job, but I cannot work with people around me. It’s difficult for them to concentrate when the slightest things can trigger my orgasm. Like the vibration of a phone, or if someone touched the sweet spot on my shoulder or neck, or an engine roaring, a pen falling off the table.
And it’s degrading, especially when you are talking to your subordinate and suddenly you are experiencing a series of crushing, unstimulated orgasms at your workplace.
It’s a never ending battle, you know. Never. Ending.
I’m constantly tired, bone deep exhausted, in pain and there is nothing I can do about it. I can’t sleep for long periods, and insomnia has become my shadow.
I have lost friends because they feel embarrassed to be around me when I’m having one of my episodes. My social circle has become smaller and smaller everyday. Now I have only a handful of people I meet outside my penthouse.
One day I literally counted the number of orgasms I got in one hour, and I counted eighty seven orgasms.
You must think, that is so cool, like being in the heaven of pure pleasure, but it’s not. It’s a literally living hell. Even hell is not a good enough word for what I go through daily.
It has tested all my relationships. No one is ready to deal with my problem because there’s no way to control it. I just have to endure it whenever it happens. I was depressed for a long, long time.
Humiliated.
Reclusive.
Lonely.
It has shown me who are my true friends and who are not.
“It’s not like you’ve got anything to lose.” Same’el shrugs his shoulders.
Oh, I have got plenty to lose.
Dignity for one.
My pride for second.
And my already shattered hope for third. But who cares, right?
Who cares indeed.
That petty, self-righteous voice in my head taunts me, reminding me what a joke I am.
Well, it can go fuck off and choke on its invisible dick. I will not allow it to pull me down like it did a few years back. I have people who care about me, who love me. My family being one of them. Not my blood family. But my five fossie brothers. Sama’el being one of them.
A phone buzzes and suddenly, my abdominal muscles flex and tighten, my ass clenches, and my thighs start to quiver.
“Mmm-hmmm.” I rock in my seat, my brain becoming all fogy. “Aah…”
I force my body to sit still, but the tremors in my legs spread through my whole being.
My body shakes.
Pleasure rushes through me.
Heavy.
Fast.
Stampeding.
Crushing my will.
Trampling my control.
“Gods.” I bite my lip, my eye closing with need to shut the world out, to contain my humiliation inside me. To not let my brother see my suffering.
My stomach tremors as I come down from my high.
I sigh and lean forward, and rest my head on my arms on the kitchen island.
“You have to go, Ari.”
Hearing the quiver in his voice, I open my eyes and meet his concerned one. “You have to try this, please.”
I open my mouth to rebuff him, but close it when I see tears sheathing his ocean blue eyes.
“Please, just visit her for my sake.” He walks toward me and stands in front of me. “Please?”
I sigh and nod. “Okay, I’ll do it for you.”
His hands fidget before they finally come around my shoulder and wrap me into one of his big, bear hugs.
Sama’el is tall, dark and ruggedly handsome with broad shoulders and brown hair, tattoos covering his muscled arms.
Anyone who meets him for the first time, will think twice before approaching him. My brother carries the whole bad boy persona to the extreme to keep people away from him and it works like a charm.
He’s a rare gem and I love him.
“Okay, I’ll do it. Just remember I’m doing it for you.” I mumble against his abs, but my hearts… they continue to vibrate against my chest. People have trouble handling one heart, and I’m cursed with two. It’s a rare abnormality, but I don’t feel abnormal. I was born with them. Anyways, when you take a closer look at my chest, you can see the barely there outline of my second heart slightly on my right side. When I was young it felt odd to see it, but not any more. It is what it is and I’m okay with it.
I sigh and look up. God, the man is tall. At six feet and seven inches, he towers over everyone in a crowd.
The sigh that releases out of him is profound. It’s like he’s scared he’ll lose me. And who can blame him. I did try to take my life a few years back when my boyfriend left me.
My brothers are my rocks. My pillars. All five of them.
“Good, good. And I won’t forget it. Thank you.” He kisses my head. “And I’m coming with you. So is Warner, Eóghan, Lir, and Varun.”
My head snaps up and I pull back to protest that I don’t need my brothers chaperoning me, but stop when he places his finger on my lips.
“It’ll be fun to get out of the city, just the five of us. Like old times.” Sama’el gives me a small smile. “It’s been too long, Arion, since we’ve all been on trip. Years, I think. Plus, this will take Lir’s mind off of that douchebag of his ex. He needs a change and he needs all of us.”
What can I say after that? Nothing. Because Sama’el is right. Lir does need us. He’s fragile right now. Lir is the most sensitive of us. He feels… everything, for everyone.
My sweet, sensitive brother needs me and I will not be an asshole and abandon him.
He needs me, I’ll be there for him.
“Okay, let’s all go to Catalina Island and have some fun. Like old times.”
“Ohh, nice. I’ll carry my new spandex shorts.” He claps, shaking his hips. “They’ll aggrandize my bosom and break the dry spell I am having.”
Dear, God. What have I gotten myself into?
Arion
We all are waiting for Sama’el to get the keys for our respective rooms—oh, sorry, not room, for our cabins. Each of us is renting a cabin on the shore, with ocean view, thanks to Sama’el.
His exact words when I asked him why do we each need a whole cabin to ourselves instead of just a room in a hotel were, “If I bring a man at night, I don’t want to hold back my screams and moans because you assholes are staying in the room. I want to have some fun. Isn’t that what we are here for? To have fun and let loose?”
He’s got a point, but still, this is extravagant.
However, it’s good for my disorder. I don’t want my brothers to hear me moaning for our entire trip.
I feel like a pervert. Like I’m besetting them. Like I’m seeking pleasure in their presence. I feel wrong to be in their presence when I’m having these series of unstimulated orgasms.
They have told me a zillion times it doesn’t bother them. But I know what my body is experiencing. I know what kind of sounds I’m making.
People have often said to me, it would be amazing to have unstimulated orgasms, but it’s not.
They’ve said they wish they had this disorder. I will never wish this on anybody. Maybe the first few days they will feel like they are in paradise, but it wears off soon.
You are reclusive, lonely, and distressed all time.
You can never relax, never stand at ease. You are constantly worrying, thinking, contemplating your next move. You cannot enjoy life.
You always wonder what will trigger my next bout of orgasms? How long will it be for? Will I be able to find a quiet spot to let the sounds out and hide what happens to me, to make sure no one hears me.
You don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to live like this. Trust me, this is no way to live.
I start and whirl around when a hand slaps my shoulder, almost dropping my bag.
My body tightens, my ass clenches and I pray I am not sporting a hard on. Slowly, I look down and notice the front of my pants is not tented.
Thank fuck!
A collective sigh is heaved by all my brothers.
“Phew.” I shake my head and glare at Sama’el.
My other brothers curse and glare at him too.
“Dude!”
“Fucker.”
“Watch it, asshole.”
“What the hell, man.”
He looks chagrined. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “In my excitement, I totally forgot.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “We are all together after such a long time, guys.”
“We meet every Sunday, brother.”
“I know, but it’s not the same.” Sama’el shakes his head. “It’s not. We are all so busy, we haven’t spent more than a few hours together every week. It has been such a long time since we all went anywhere together. This trip means we get to bond again.” I look down, his eyes lost, watching something on the floor. “I miss you guys,” he whispers.
An unfamiliar ache fills my chest, and I absently rub it.
Dropping my bag, I walk to him and w
rap my arms around him, hugging him tight.
Sama’el gasps, then laughs, wrapping his arms in return.
I pull back and let my other brothers hug him.
“Okay, enough talking mushy stuff. Let’s have some fun.” He holds out his hand and opens it, showing us several colored keys. “Here are your cabin keys. The blue one is yours, Ari. The red is Varun’s, The white is Lir’s, the silver is Warner, and the golden is Eóghan. And this one…” He opens his other hand and shows us a black key, “and this is mine.”
We pick our respective colored keys.
“Are you ready, sir?” A man, bellboy, in hotel uniform asks Sama’el. He nods and collects our luggages and guides us to our cabin. “It’s not far. Just behind the this building.”
The cabin is beautiful from the outside. It looks more like a beach shack. Very oceanesqc, if you ask me. Baby blue with a wrap around porch. Wooden siding, with a roof angled in a perfect triangle. Built on slats, it gives the appearance of toppling over at the slightest wind.
When Sama’el had said he booked a cabin for each of us, I’d pictured a rustic looking cabin, but this is even better.
I insert the key and open the door. I enter the cabin and close the door. The vibration of the door closing triggers my PGAD and my legs buckle. I hold on to the knob and rest my forehead against the door, trying to breathe in through my nose as the pleasure builds down in my core.
I will myself to not make noise, but my lips part and force a moan out of my throat.
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!
“Oh, God,” I pant, my breathing growing heavier by the second, my whole body pulsing, sweating like I’m standing in the rain.
I clench my teeth when a wave of pleasure spikes up and down my spine, shooting down to my groin. I drop the bad near my feet and rest my palms on the door.