Daunuan
There’s nothing quite like the acoustics of the Abyss.
Listen: sounds carry over the polished stones of the Great Wall that presses against Hell’s periphery like a monolithic anaconda. Background noises, first—the lamentations of the damned, their screams slowly unraveling until they’re nothing but sighs in the hot breeze over the Lake of Fire. Next, the clinking of metal on metal as the Coveters stockpile their gold. The Gluttons now, smacking and belching as they gorge themselves on meat and gristle and bone.
But those aren’t the sounds that get under your skin, the ones that burrow deep and fester.
Over the Wall, the buzzing snores of the Lazy saw through the acrid air. Louder than that is the inane boasting of the Arrogant as they swagger and preen, their asses so tight you’d think there’s a sinner wedged between their cheeks. Worse still is the incessant yammering and yowling and of the Envious, whining about wanting what they don’t have. And then there’s the thunderous crashes of the Berserkers, bashing one another into pulp and roaring their victory and pain.
Those sounds don’t matter, either.
Go beyond those background noises of unimportant Sins. Delve into the heart of Hell, and you’ll feel its beat working its way through you, boom, boom, boom, boom, dancing over your limbs and seeping into your pores until your heart beats with it. That’s Lust pounding through you, seducing you, shaping you.
Now, listen the way a Seducer does: the squeals of delight that tickle their way up your spine, the grunts of exertion that coil your muscles tight. The moans of pleasure that set your blood aflame. Hear them? All the sighs and the oohs and the growls of desire, blending together in a symphony of sex? Those are the sounds that matter: the sounds of demons fucking like rabbits terrified of extinction.
Those are the sounds of an orgy surging through the Heartlands of Lust—the music of flesh on flesh, hypnotic, insistent.
And I was missing it.
I slammed my fist against my thigh, snarled my rage. Here I was, an incubus, missing the biggest fuckfest that Lust had seen in more than a millennium, all because it was my turn at the Gates. The afterlife just wasn’t fair.
Grumbling, I rubbed the sting out of my leg. All right, fine, it was completely fair, which made it even more unbearable. All demons had to pull a stint as Gatekeeper, and it just happened to be my turn. So instead of getting laid, I was standing on the mouth of Hell, picking my fangs.
Not like there really needed to be a Gatekeeper in the first place—really, who was going to try to break into the Pit?—but the mortals doomed to an eternity of torture and despair seemed to expect there to be someone checking them in. And so, we obliged, like it or not. And I definitely didn’t like it.
I snorted, pawed my hoof over the hard-baked clay of the ground. The whole thing was just so pointless, and never more so than right now. For the first time in longer than I could remember, there was no line of sinners and demons outside of the Wall, waiting for admittance into Hell. That alone would be considered a minor miracle, except (a) our side didn’t do miracles and (b) there was a major catastrophe responsible for it.
Things were running amok Above—from what I heard, the waters were still flooding the Earth, drowning beasts and babies and all manner of living things. But none of the infernal or the celestial were out collecting souls, even though almost every human in the world was dying or already dead, good and evil alike. The supreme ruler of the Pit had declared an embargo: none were to travel between the planes until further notice. All of the creatures of the Abyss, from the most minor infernal entity to all the major deities, were slumming deep within the boundary of Hell, their tails and other assorted appendages tucked between their legs and other body parts.
And that meant it was party time Below…all except for yours truly, stuck on guard duty.
I once heard a mortal exclaim that if you can’t complain to someone who can change your situation, don’t complain at all. Demons follow a similar notion: if you complain, you’ll get drawn and quartered, then thrown into the Lake of Fire, so don’t complain at all. So I silently bitched and moaned, and counted the various ways I wished I could slaughter whoever had called up my name for standing watch at the Gates, and I waited for my shift to end.
Demons are very good at waiting. But waiting with no real purpose drives me bat-shit insane.
Folding my arms across my chest, I leaned against one of the wrought-iron Gates that separated Limbo from Hell and closed my eyes. If I couldn’t exercise my favorite muscle, I could grab a little sleep. A smile quirked my lips as I thought about the possibility of the Almighty still wringing out the water from the skies when I got off duty. If that came to pass, I’d be able to partake in the celebration of Sin.
But I couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was all the noise from beyond the Wall keeping me awake, or maybe it was knowing that if the King of Lust happened to find one of his Seducers asleep at his post, that Seducer would be publicly castrated.
Hell isn’t big on sympathy. Or second chances.
Time passed. Ball-breakingly slowly.
I was so lost in my own boredom and resentment that I almost didn’t hear the lighthearted voice say: “Heya, sweetie. Come here often?”
Female demon. Another Seducer, based on the salutation. Creatures of Lust usually greeted one another; we understood the concept of the more, the merrier. Thus, the orgy that I was missing right now.
I mentally kicked myself. She’d caught me off guard. Normally, the psychic link all Seducers shared would have announced her presence before she’d bothered to speak, but I’d severed my connection about three hours ago. That’s a huge no-no, but today all of the Lower Downs of Lust were too busy fucking to notice that one of their minor brethren wasn’t part of the group mind.
It wouldn’t be in my best interest to show that she’d startled me, so I acted nonchalant. Keeping my eyes closed, I gave the standard Seducer reply: “Every chance I get.”
“Looks more like you sleep every chance you get.”
Ooh, she was a sassy one. I pried my eyes open. And then I grinned.
Hellooooo, sexy.
Like me, she was a satyr, but like all of her sex, she didn’t sport horns or hair. Her skin was cherry red, and the pelt than covered her from hips to hooves was curly and black, begging for me to run my fingers over it. One of her hands was planted on her hip, and she stood with her tits thrust out, as if she were offering them to suck. I took in the swells of her breasts, the curve of her thighs, the concave turn of her belly…ah, I wanted to run my hands over her body, trace her shape and memorize her form.
Fuck me, she was so beautiful.
Remembering where I was, I said, “Where’re you off too, sweetness? Above’s still off-limits.”
She laughed—this rich, musical laugh that went right to my balls. Her black leathery lips pulled into a grin, and she said, “My back needed a break.”
“Aw. Poor little succubus. Is your bottom all bruised?”
She batted her lashes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Unholy Hell, absolutely. I wanted to caress that sweet flesh, nuzzle my fingers between her cheeks and probe the puckered hole nestled there. I wanted to slide into her and feel her contract around me. I wanted to hear the sounds she made when I nudged her sweet spot.
But I’d be blessed if I’d ever admit that. I had a reputation to uphold.
So I shrugged, acted bored. “Screw one succubus, screw them all.”
She barked out another laugh. “Charming.”
“I can be,” I said, waggling my brows. “For the right reason, I can be a silver-tongued devil.” I let out a dramatic sigh. “But why bother? You’re just another succubus. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Look who’s pompous enough to be one of the Arrogant.”
“It’s not pompousness if it’s true.”
“Pompous and rude.”
“You’re not worth good manners.”
She eyed me, and I found that I liked her penetrating gaze, how her luminescent green cat’s eyes shone as she looked me up and down. Then she chuckled. “Poor little incubus,” she said, “stuck out here when all of the other Seducers are fucking their brains out. Someone must really hate you.”
I clucked my tongue. “Just happens to be my time to serve as Gatekeeper.”
“Of course it is.”
She was good; she put just the right amount of sympathy into her words to make them stab. If I weren’t fascinated by her, I probably would have been annoyed. “Nothing more to it,” I insisted.
“Of course there isn’t.”
“I’ll get off duty soon enough,” I said. “Plenty of time to dip my wick.”
She glanced between my legs, her gaze lingering over my most prominent feature. Her mouth quirked into a bemused smile when my dick twitched its own hello. “Quite the muscle control you’ve got there,” she noted.
“You should see the things I can make it do.”
She shrugged, her green eyes gleaming. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Hah—touché. I quashed the urge to laugh. “I guess you’ll never know.”
“And I must be all the poorer for it. So you can make it do tricks?”
Grinning, I said, “I thought it’s your kind that does tricks.”
“He speaks! How adorable. What else do you do? Do you come when called?”
Oh Gehenna, I liked her. Most succubi were good for the brief sally, and then they let their bodies do the talking. They didn’t flirt, because they didn’t need to; everyone knew that a succubus could never say no to sex. But this creature, with her impertinent gaze and her wicked grin, had substance.
“I come when I’m good and ready. And yes, I can make it do tricks.” To illustrate, my shaft moved in a slow circle.
She smiled at my erection. “Most of your kind would grudgingly admit their cocks have minds of their own.”
“And most of your kind would be too busy offering their cockpits to notice or even care.”
“Ooh,” she said, a smirk tugging at her sensual lips. “Is that the silver tongue you mentioned? I think the polish is too greasy for my liking.”
“I don’t need grease to get my lovers slippery. One touch of my fingers gets them wet. One thrust of my cock ruins them for all other incubi.”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “I’m sure you’ll have all the succubi just begging for a piece of you. Unless,” she added thoughtfully, “they’re completely sated before then.”
I snorted my derision. “No such thing as a sated succubus.”
“No?” She ran one taloned finger up her inner thigh, over her mound and skimming her stomach, now tracing the outline of her breast. “Maybe you’ve just never been able to fully satisfy one before.”
I couldn’t help it: I laughed. “Oh, sweetness, you have no idea who you’re talking to.”
She arched a brow. “Oh, really? Enlighten me.”
“I’m Daunuan.”
The briefest of pauses before she replied, “Never heard of you.”
Heh. “If I cared, I would be insulted.”
“I can’t decide which is bigger,” she said idly, “your ego or your attitude.”
“My ego,” I said, wrapping one hand around my erect cock. “I tend to get a swollen head.”
A longer pause now as she smirked at me, considering. She kept playing with her tit, circling it with her long fingers, tweaking the nipple. Taunting me. Daring me to have a little taste. She said nothing as she stood in the Gateway, but lascivious thoughts danced behind her eyes.
I pumped my shaft slowly, grinning as I watched her watch me, imagining that it was her hand on me instead of my own.
“Well, Don Juan,” she finally said, slightly mispronouncing my name, “why don’t you show me just how well you can satisfy a succubus?”
“Would love to,” I said, meaning it. “But I’m working.”
Her lips pulled into a luscious grin. Oh, how I wanted those lips around me, sucking me, swallowing me…
“I can see that,” she said. “You’re working so hard, you’re going to chafe.”
Hah. “I’m on guard duty.”
“Take a break.”
I laughed softly. “Is that an invitation?”
“A suggestion.”
“And what happens,” I asked, “if I take you up on it?”
Her eyes widened into a parody of innocence. “Well then, you get to have your wild, wicked way with me.”
Jezebel
He was all swagger, even just leaning against one of the Gates—completely full of himself, like all of his ilk. Utterly confident in his ability to seduce. That was delicious in a fleeting sort of way, but unremarkable by itself. He was an incubus; I would have expected no less.
It was also exactly what I’d needed to take a break from; there’s only so much posturing this one succubus could take, no matter how excellent the sex. (My sister succubi always said I was odd.)
If that had been all there was to him, to this Daunuan, then I just would have appreciated his form and then moved on. He certainly was pretty enough to look at, with his well-muscled body and appealing blue skin, its hues shifting from sapphire to indigo. And that said nothing of his enticingly long yellow hair. His pelt was the light brown of desert sand; his erection, a monument to carnality. But even with his glorious mane and impressive dick, he was just another incubus. From horns (red) to hooves (polished), he was like the other male satyrs of our Sin.
I eyed his jutting cock again. All right, maybe not just like the other male satyrs. Yum. If all the other incubi were as endowed as he was, I wouldn’t be able to walk right. Or sit down. Ever.
But there was more to him than good looks and evil intentions. It was in the sparkle of his amber eyes, in the quick smile that transformed his face from merely handsome into something magnificent. I didn’t know what it was, but it kept me outside of Hell, loitering with him instead of working out the kinks in my shoulders before diving back into the orgy within the Wall.
“Wild and wicked,” he said, his voice a low rumble that did interesting things to me way down low. “Now there’s something I’ve never encountered here in Hell.”
I shrugged my indifference. “If you prefer, I can play the impenetrable virgin.”
“Mmm. Virgins. Very tasty.”
“I don’t know,” I said with a smile. “I find them a bit too raw.”
“I prefer raw to rare.”
“Agreed. Too rare, and there’s little to enjoy.”
He laughed softly, and I found myself enjoying the easy movement of his broad shoulders. “Virgins are overrated,” he said. “I prefer the aggressive, experienced sort.”
“How lucky for me.” Grinning, I sashayed over to him, putting an extra wiggle in my walk. “I just happen to be very experienced. And I can be very aggressive.”
“How lucky for me.”
He stayed where he was, leaning against the wrought-iron Gate, one of his hands working on his penis while the other was loosely fisted by his side. Watching me. Waiting for me to make the first move.
Happy to oblige, sweetie.
I leaned in close, ran one of my hands over his bicep. Ooh, very strong. Very nice. I reached out mentally, but I couldn’t read him. Huh. He must have cut himself off from the psychic connection all Seducers shared. Maybe he’d gotten tired of listening to the sounds of a million demons fucking.
“So, Daunuan,” I said, pitching my voice low, “tell me how you want me.”
The smile on his face stretched wide. “How? Is this where I start quoting mortal poetry? Something from Gilgamesh, perhaps?”
“Are you going to shove me against the Gate?” I asked, entwining my arms around his neck. “Throw me to the ground and mount me? Take me from behind?”
“Decisions, decisions…”
I nuzzled against his jaw, inhaled his aroma—all pumpkin spice and musk, and a deeper, more primal scent that was purely male. My nipples tightened as I breathed him in. Exquisite. In his ear, I whispered, “Maybe I’ll just throw myself on you.”
Lifting myself up, I wrapped my legs around his trim waist. The tip of his cock rubbed against my inner thigh, sending all sorts of tingles straight to my core. Shifting to the left, I positioned myself over him and dropped down.
A moment of utter bliss as he glided over my clit and into me—
(he slides into me slides deep deeper now and he’s so long and thick and filling me he’s filling me so completely and oh yes I want him in me just like this just like)
—and then a sudden pressure under my armpits, just before I was hefted up. And off.
Hey…!
My eyes opened—when had I closed them?—to see Daunuan grinning at me, his fangs gleaming. He settled me down on my hooves, but kept his hands under my arms, just over my breasts.
Move them southward, sweetie. Put those big old hands of yours to use.
“Slow,” he said, amusement and lust deepening his voice. “Slow. What’s the rush?”
“No rush. Just want to get to the good part.” Get back to the good part.
“It’s all good, sweetness.”
My gaze dropped to his shaft. “Some parts are better than others.”
“See, that’s the thing about you succubi.” His amber eyes glistened, and his lips pulled back into a predatory grin. Bless me, I wanted to suck his lips off of his face. He said, “You go too fast.”
That made me blink. I’ve seduced scores of men, fucked hundreds (er, thousands) of demons. I’ve felt the pull of lust more times than I could count. And never, not once, have I ever been told I was going too fast.
Frowning, I said, “We’re supposed to go fast. That’s what we do.”
“But going slow can be so much more fun,” he said, lifting one hand to stroke my cheek. “Slow,” he said again. “Anticipation.”
“Is a kind of torture.”
He laughed softly. “That, too.” His hand traced the lines of my mouth, and I closed my eyes, went with his touch. Now his fingers were moving down the curve of my throat, playing now over my collarbone. My heartbeat quickened as his fingers dipped lower, brushing the very tops of my breasts. Between my legs, my sex pulsed with desire.
I wanted him back inside me. Right now. I wanted to feel how deep he could go, move with him hip to hip, my hands on his ass and his hands on my…
Biting my lip, I told myself to stop acting like the virgin I’d offered to be.
“You know,” he said, “you have the most adorable blush when you’re aroused. Your cheeks burst into this dark crimson, like drying blood.”
“Such flattery. You do have a silver tongue.”
“I can do more with it than speak the right words.” He darted his tongue out, licked his way across my jaw.
“This is different,” I said, my voice ragged. “Other incubi are less about the foreplay and more about the actual fucking.”
“With succubi?” He chuffed laughter, his breath hot on my neck. “Of course they are. With you, we can rut like mindless animals. You want to be fucked hard. We don’t have to seduce Seducers.”
That was true. Sex with a Seducer—whether male or female—was a given.
“But with mortal women, we go slow.” As he spoke, he punctuated his words with kisses, his lips wet on my throat. “We draw it out. We tease. We please.”
I closed my eyes as he sucked on my neck, feeling myself become wet from his attention. My pussy tingled, aroused, eager for his cock.
But this wasn’t an all-consuming need to copulate—no, this was a slow burn, a gradual fire heating me, flushing me. This was more intimate than simple lust. And far more insidious. He kissed me, and my body hungered for more.
“With mortal women,” he murmured, “we put off our own pleasure until the very…”
His fangs grazed my ear, and I shivered.
“…very…”
A nip on my lobe; a small suck to take away the sting.
“…end.”
I wasn’t a creature of Envy, but at this moment, I was obscenely jealous of those mortal women.
He whispered in my ear, “You asked me before how I wanted you.”
My throat had gone dry as he’d used that fabled silver tongue on me. I had to swallow before I could reply. “Yes.”
“I want you slowly,” he said around his kisses. “I want you like this, standing here before me, naked and ready for me. I want to explore you with my hands and mouth and tongue. I want to probe inside of you and discover your sweet spots.”
His hand snaked down my body, touched me so very briefly where it mattered most, just enough for sparks to fly behind my closed eyelids. I let out a groan as his fingers brushed over my vulva, whisper soft.
“And after I make you come so hard that you drench me in your juices, then I want to fuck you raw. And then we’ll see how well I can satisfy a succubus.”
It took me three tries before my mouth worked properly.
“Well,” I said, my voice a high-pitched squeak, “if you insist.”
Daunuan
“Keep your eyes closed,” I said, drinking in her features. Succubi, like incubi, could shift their appearance the way the Almighty could shift the weather to His liking, but here Below, most wore their natural forms. Her face was heart shaped, with full cheeks and a small chin. Her lips, black as Evil itself, shone wetly.
She opened her eyes. They were the green of emeralds, with a vertical slit of a pupil. And at the moment, they were narrow with suspicion. “Why should I?”
“So I can better surprise you, sweetness.”
Her nose wrinkled. “As far as monikers go, I loathe that one.”
Heh. Opinionated, wasn’t she? “Then tell me what to call you.”
She stared at me, her cat’s eyes shining brightly, her thoughts hidden, and for a moment I thought she’d give me a pet name, pretty but meaningless. (In any harem of succubi, at least five of them will call themselves “Chastity.”)
Instead, she said, “Jezebel.”
It resonated in my mind, in the manner of all true names. The epitome of who she was, who she would always be—all wrapped up in those three syllables, strung together like a necklace of gems.
“Jezebel,” I repeated, rolling her name on my tongue. I liked the way it sounded, liked the way my lips formed those specific sounds.
I liked her.
“I could use my magic,” I said, moving my hands up her back. “That would tell me what you like, what pleases you best. But I think it’s more fun to discover it the mortal way.”
She thrust her chin up, an impertinent move that was utterly adorable. “I like sex.”
“That’s a given. But there are so many paths to pleasure.”
“Are you going to talk me to orgasm, incubus? Or just bore me to death?”
I laughed softly. “Impatient thing, aren’t you?”
“Patience is a virtue.”
“That doesn’t mean it can’t also be a vice. Close your eyes, Jezebel.”
“Fine, fine,” she huffed, snapping her lids closed, acting annoyed, as if I couldn’t smell her arousal.
I started at the crown of her head. My fingers massaged her scalp, moving in small circles and slowly framing her face. Back now, featherlight over the tips of her ears, and down, my claws tickling her lobes.
“You’re too high up,” she said.
“Shhh.”
My fingers trailed down her neck, swooped over the curve of her shoulders. As my tips brushed against her collarbone, she let out a soft moan—tiny, almost inaudible, but I noted it. Just as I noted how her nipples hardened as my fingers dabbled by the hollow of her throat.
Over her arms now, teasing the insides of her elbows, enjoying the smile that quirked her lips. The pads of my fingers ghosted her wrists; the edge of my claws whispered over her palms. Her moan was louder now, and I grinned.
“Like that, don’t you?”
“Just clearing my throat.”
“Uh-huh.” I took her by the wrist, lifted her hand to my lips. Kissed her palm, then slowly traced the lines there with my tongue.
Her hips twitched, but then she blew out a breath and stood still, her lips pressed into a thin line.
“You’re allowed to enjoy this, you know.”
“Just waiting for the good part.”
Oh yes, I liked her.
I licked her index finger slowly, then took it into my mouth. Sucked it gently. Watched her lips part as she said, “Oooh.”
And you like that, don’t you?
Keeping suction on her finger, I stepped closer, until her arm was trapped between her chest and mine. Moving my hands behind her, I rained small touches down her spine, and back up, flowing outward so that the next cascaded down her back, tripping over her shoulder blades and ribs, stopping just over the start of the black pelt on her hips.
She captured her lower lip with her fangs, bit down as her breathing grew more ragged—a nice touch, since demons don’t have to breathe. Her brow had smoothed, no longer set in determined lines. Despite herself, she was going with my touches.
Yes.
I released her finger, and her hand fell to my chest, quivering. The points of her talons tapped a beat on my flesh, all staccatos and sharps as I kept rolling my hands, up and down, moving now to her sides, the indent of her waist and up to the fur beneath her armpits.
“You hone your body as a weapon,” I said, my voice a low purr, my hands traveling to the jut of her hipbones. “And you dangle it as a prize.” Up again, slower, over the indents of her ribs, stopping just under the slopes of her breasts.
She was panting now, her lips wet with her saliva. And her smell, ah, her smell was drenching her, all cinnamon and musk and swirls of peppermint bubbling through her.
Cupping the swells of her tits, I let them rest in my hands as a shudder worked through her. Smiling from her reaction, I said, “But your body is meant to be worshiped.”
Small moans escaped her as I caressed her twin mounds, moving in the slowest of circles, tracing their shape. Testing their weight. Feeling them bob as she breathed heavily. Claws now—gently grazing her sensitive skin as I trailed my way to the deep crimson of her areolas. I whispered over the outermost edges, and she cried out, thrusting her hips against mine.
“And I haven’t even gotten to your nipples yet,” I mused aloud.
“Suck me,” she panted.
“No.”
“Suck me!”
Back to the pads of my fingers as I traveled over the dark circles, pressing more firmly. “Patience.”
She snarled, “Shove your patience up your ass!”
Heh.
I jerked my hands away from her breasts, stepped back to let the acrid air outside of Hell blow over her body.
“Hey!”
“Patience,” I said again.
Her scowl was a thing of malefic beauty, a war between passion and ire. She said, “You sound like a high priest.”
“Ooh. Cut to the quick.” Walking behind her, I sank to my knees so that her bottom was in front of my face. Her buttocks were magnificent: tight but amply padded, promising to be both meaty and juicy.
But instead of licking her crevice, I skimmed my hands down the outside of her firm thighs. Back up now, this time over the backs of her long limbs, all the way to the bottom of her ass cheeks. And down, trailing to the inside of her legs.
And up, so very slowly. And stopping just shy of the apex of her thighs.
Beneath my hands, her muscles tightened in anticipation. Her tortured groan was exquisite, and it made my balls throb.
And then I removed my hands.
She hissed her frustration, and I grinned as I sidled around her.
“Patience,” I said again. Then I wrapped my arm around her waist and crushed her against my chest. “Just a little taste first.”
I kissed her, hard, bruising her lips with mine, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. She kissed me just as passionately, attacking my mouth and serenading me with her moans. Lips locked together, our tongues danced, rolling and dipping, our fangs scraping as the kiss deepened.
Oh, unholy Hell, how I want her.
Breaking the kiss, I licked my way down her chin, traced the lines of her jaw, teasing her collarbone with my mouth. She arched back, shoving her tits up, telling me with her body exactly what she wanted me to do.
And I finally obliged. First one nipple, taking that succulent berry and sucking it until she was writhing in my arms, her aroused noises nonsensical and delightful, her aroma and taste filling me. Then the other nipple, that exquisite pearl, polishing it with my lips and tongue, blowing on it until it gleamed.
Her hands tangled in my hair, her talons slicing into the back of my neck. Her hips were rolling, beckoning. As I kept sucking her tits, I reached down, snaking over the curve of her belly. Down more, trailing my fingers through her pubic hair.
Stroking her pussy.
She let out a throaty growl, insistent. Demanding. So very hungry.
I slid my fingers between her wet folds, exploring her, testing her secret waters. And then I dived in.
Jezebel cried out as I fucked her with my hand, called my name as if I could save her soul. She was bucking wildly, pushing me in deeper. I stroked her harder now, faster, using two fingers and now three, stretching her. Probing her.
Rubbing her clit with my thumb.
She tensed around my hand, her body poised on the edge of rapture.
I crooked my fingers as I went deeper still…and found the spot that pushed her over the edge. She screamed as she came, slicking my fingers with her hot cream, shuddering against me as if she was about to die.
When her trembles finally stopped, I pulled my hand free. Releasing her nipple, I inhaled the scent of her cum, then slowly licked my fingers clean, relishing the salty sweet taste.
Mmm. Sensuous.
Jezebel was swaying on her hooves, so I wrapped my hands around her waist to steady her.
“See?” I couldn’t keep the smug purr out of my voice. “Going slow has its merits.”
She licked her lips before she replied, “I’ll concede the point.”
“Well then,” I said, lowering my hand to squeeze her ass. “Do I have a satisfied succubus in my hands?”
She looked up at me, lust glazing her green eyes. A smile lingered over her kissable lips. “No, incubus. I’m not satisfied.”
I arched a brow. She was lying through her fangs; even if her body posture didn’t tell me so, her smell certainly did. She reeked of contented bliss.
Before I could open my mouth to call her on the lie, she grabbed my shoulders and shoved me backward. She leaped on top of me, riding my body down to the ground. I landed on my back with an unceremonious “Oof,” barely getting my arms down to take the brunt of the fall.
Straddling me, Jezebel grabbed my arms and pinned them over my head.
“You showed me your way,” she said, her grin huge and altogether wicked. “Now it’s my turn. I’m going to fuck you, Daunuan, fuck you fast and hard.” Grinding her hips, she rubbed her pussy—still wet from her juices—over the base of my cock.
Rrrrr.
Oh, fuck me, I want to be inside of her so bad…
She leaned down until her mouth hovered just over mine. “And when you scream my name to Pit and Paradise as you come inside of me,” she purred, “then I’ll be a satisfied succubus.”
Gehenna, I do so enjoy a woman who takes control.
Jezebel
Sweet Sin, no one had ever made me feel the way Daunuan did.
I’ve had orgasms before, of course. I pride myself (as much as any creature of Lust could acknowledge Arrogance) on my orgasms. Other lovers have done more to me than Daunuan did, and for longer. And in far more interesting positions. But none of them had ever made my heart pound like it would explode in my chest. None of them had ever made me go weak in the knees.
None of them had ever seduced me.
All of this went through my mind in a huge rush—a long stream of nonsensical thoughts haphazardly flowing together, this overwhelming mix of sentiment and sensation—as I threw Daunuan to the ground.
Now I was looking into his wicked eyes, watching them sparkle with intent, enjoying how they crinkled at the corners. This was a demon who enjoyed laughter. Who enjoyed being lascivious. Who tormented his victims with his deliberate touches and languorous kisses. Who made his lovers mad from anticipation.
Fuck that.
Straddled over him, I rocked my hips just once, a slow grind, feeling his cock beneath me, waiting for me, full and erect and eager for my cunt.
“I could just walk away now,” I said, and he rewarded me with a flare of anger in his amber eyes. Ooh, pretty. I said, “I could just leave you to your post. Unfulfilled.”
His face flushed to a dark blue, nearly indigo, and his red horns gleamed like hot coals. “You could,” he said. “But then you wouldn’t be sated, would you?”
I smiled at his response. “There’s an orgy going on inside Hell. Or maybe you’d forgotten, stranded here at the Gates as you’ve been?”
He stiffened beneath me; my words had scored.
Heh.
I rubbed myself over him, getting him wet with my own wetness. “But I want to hear my name on your lips,” I said, pressing my breasts against his chest. “I want to see the look on your face as you climax.”
Leaning down, I nuzzled against his neck, inhaled his scent of musk and pumpkin spice. Delicious. Delectable.
Desirable.
My lips pressed against the meat of his throat as I kissed him, scraped him with my fangs. Licked away the small hurt. Nibbled the lobe of his ear. His groan of pleasure was like magic, making my nipples tingle and my sex throb with desire.
I whispered, “I want to hear you scream.”
And then I slid down his shaft, taking him inside of me to the hilt.
Ahhh!
I held him there for a moment, relished how he filled me, how his hot length felt so fucking perfect inside of me. Reveled in the look on his face—how his eyes had both widened and darkened, how his mouth had opened in a soundless O, how his breath had caught in his throat.
How beautiful he was in that shining moment, with him below me and inside of me, with me about to send him spiraling to the brink.
And then I pivoted my hips up, allowed him to ease out of me until the only head of his cock was still blanketed in my folds. And back down, again, slow and deep.
Oh, how his eyes shone.
He arched up to meet me, thrusting with me. We moved faster, our bodies finding a natural rhythm together as I flowed over him and he pounded into me. He was grunting now, and so was I, our sounds mixing, blending into a primal song that beckoned us faster now, faster.
I crushed my lips to his in a burning kiss, stabbed him with my tongue. Even faster now, I rode him hard, harder, losing myself to the moment. My body rocked fiercely, caught in a punishing momentum of ecstasy that threatened to rip me apart. He slammed into me, and I took it, demanded more, clutched him as shook beneath me, his arms and chest and thighs almost humming with tension.
My lips peeled back in a feral grin as I impaled myself on him, took him as far as he could go.
He screamed out my name, a howl of victory as he burst inside of me, his hot seed blazing through me. My own orgasm broke over me, merciless, drowning me in passion as my scream joined his.
All too soon, our voices quieted, the sounds fading to soft echoes in the stagnant air, all but lost amid the backdrop of wails and screeches from the damned inside the Wall of Hell. Daunuan and I shuddered together, our bodies slick, tremors of pleasure rippling over us in small aftershocks.
“And now,” I said, gasping my words, “I am a satisfied succubus.”
He let out a hoarse laugh. “Duly noted.”
I rolled off him, my sex already missing his warmth, aching for the way he’d fit so perfectly inside of me.
Toughen up, Jezebel. He’s just another incubus.
I was about to kiss his forehead and thank him for the roll before I sauntered away, but he surprised me by wrapping his arms around my torso.
For a moment, I froze, not understanding what he was doing. Did he want another go already? I’d be happy to oblige, but usually the incubi were more direct than this. They were more of the throw-them-against-the-wall variety than the subtle sort. They didn’t just hold their lovers in an embrace and…
Oh.
Oh.
Smiling at the unexpected tenderness, I settled into his arms, pillowing my head on his chest.
A cuddly incubus. Who would have thought it?
We stayed like that for a while, neither of us saying anything. His heart thumped out a steady, soothing rhythm, and I closed my eyes. It was some time later before I opened them again, stunned to realize I’d dozed off in Daunuan’s arms.
Screw me on Salvation Day, what was I, a mortal?
Shaking my head at my own foolishness, I started to untangle himself from his embrace.
“Where’re you going?”
I planted a soft kiss on his lips, tasting the remnant of myself on them. “Heading back inside.”
He made a playful pout. Bless me, he was just too adorable, trying to look cute when his face was a thing of superb demonic beauty. Beautiful creatures don’t pout well; their faces aren’t made for it. He said, “Leaving so soon?”
“Hadn’t planned on falling asleep.”
His mouth pulled up into a wicked smile. “I must have tired you out.”
He had, but his ego didn’t need the boost. “In case you haven’t heard, there’s an orgy going on.” Smiling broadly, I added, “And I don’t want to keep you from your job as Gatekeeper.”
Daunuan chuffed laughter, the sound incongruously soft in the harsh air outside of Hell. “The succubus Jezebel is too kind.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Careful. That’s the sort of reputation you don’t want to get.”
“Mmm. Somehow, I’ll manage.” I leaned down for one last kiss.
And we lingered there.
After a small slice of eternity, he broke the kiss and looked into my eyes. The smile on his face was still wicked, yes, but softer at the edges, hinting at something else. Something unreadable. He winked at me. “See you, sweetness.”
Yuck. “Really,” I said, wrinkling my nose, “you think I’m sweet? I’m a succubus. Succubi aren’t sweet. Baby bunnies are sweet.”
“Depends on how you cook them.”
We shared a laugh, and I found myself enjoying the sound of our voices mingling. It faded slowly, until it was nothing more than a memory on the dry, hot wind.
“Well,” Daunuan said, “I’m sure I’ll come up with another name for you.” He traced one clawed finger over my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. “Give me time.”
“And here I thought one succubus was as good as another.”
“They are,” he agreed. “But they’re not you.”
Simple words, spoken plainly. They shouldn’t have echoed in my heart.
I shouldn’t be gazing at him, seeing myself reflected in his amber eyes.
“You know,” I said slowly, “I’m not quite ready to go back inside.”
He arched a golden brow. “No?”
“No.” My hand slid down to his mammoth erection. “And you can’t leave your post,” I said as I squeezed him.
“True,” he replied, his voice gruff.
Running my hand up his shaft, I said, “I suppose we’ll be sharing each other’s company for the time being. Unless you have something else to do…?”
“Do?” He peppered my lips with small kisses. “There’s no one I’d rather do than you.”
Warmth flooded my breasts and belly and lower, the memory of bliss heating me. “Why, Daunuan,” I said lightly, “flattery after sex? From an incubus? Unheard of.”
He laughed, the sound soft and inviting, and altogether out of place here outside of the Abyss. “Oh, Jezebel,” he said, my name a purr in his throat. “I’m looking forward to doing many unheard of things with you.”
A delightful shiver worked its way through me as I imagined what he and I could do together, across the ages.
He’d lied when he said that there was no one else he’d rather fuck; I knew that. Demons lie. But that doesn’t mean the lies aren’t pleasing.
And the truly blasphemous thing was that a small part of me wanted his words to be true.
But I didn’t let that bother me. Hell and blasphemy go very well together.
NOW:
VALENTINE’S DAY