Lust (Dream of the Succubus) [EXPLICIT]

She slinks down from the shadows without a sound, yellow eyes alight, and climbs up onto his chest like a predator guarding a fresh kill. Rippling raven hair tumbles past bare breasts to the silk sheets below, glistening in the light of the flickering candles on the bedside table. Hunger is bright on her face.

The man groans softly in response to the sudden weight but doesn’t open his eyes; sleep is still cradling him in its warm embrace. To her, he is beautiful, a deep pool of bliss to dive into and her yearning heart soars. She is a succubus, an enchanter and seducer of men. Native to the realms of nightmares, they were ancient demons that waited for slumber to claim their victims before reaping their bodies of energy through sensual acts.

Eager to begin, she tightens her naked thighs around his hips and arches her back languidly, hands splayed on his sternum, feeling the heat of his body. Her head falls back, opening her jaw from which a primal growl is uttered. Anticipation flows through her as it always did before a feed and she revels in the pinpricks of pleasure it brings. Rolling her shoulders, translucent, ethereal wings open and stretch behind her as if from a monstrous creature and she knows it is time.

Leaning down swiftly, erect nipples brushing his chest, she parts his lips with a forked tongue. It flicks in and out of his mouth, tasting him as a butterfly might taste the sweet nectar of a ripe blossom. The inside is deliciously wet and warm. His body responds by arching up against her, rolling his hips into hers, unconsciously wanting more. Delectable heat from the contact fills her with satisfaction and she feels the familiar coil of desire unwind behind her navel.

The increased drumming of his heart is music to her ears as it pounds against his ribs, his hasted breath as charming as a fine wine. Her glowing eyes roll as the heady scent of his want envelopes her and she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth where she holds it fast with her teeth. It is rewarded by a throaty moan from him that makes her smile.

Reaching down between her legs where an exquisite slickness weeps, she slides the silken sheet away from their bodies where it pools on the floor like blood. They are skin to skin now, flesh to hot flesh and she revels in the sensation, lives for it. Still asleep, he shivers at the contact.

The she-demon straightens from his bruised lips and turns her face to the dark ceiling to murmur an incantation of sacred ritual. The words flow from her like smoke and charge the air with crackling energy. It brings forth the beast within, a creature born of lust and carnal pleasure. Fangs elongate in her mouth and the skin of her forehead splits as twin curved horns extend from her skull. The true form of the succubus is both hellish and heavenly; fingers curl into talons and a serpentine tail snakes its way across the bedspread. Fiendish yellow eyes lower to hold her victim in their fiery grip; under her spell, he is still doused in a deep slumber.

The moment had come. Her chest heaves as she raises her hips and finally makes connection, the yearning for pleasure and power bursting in her veins. It is more than flesh meeting flesh. It is the thrill of it, the intensity, and the transformation of two beings becoming one. She laughs in satisfaction. The man responds as if he is awake and she takes what she needs greedily. Like drawing poison from a wound she pulls the energy out of his body and imbues it with her own until her laughter turns to ragged breathing. For her the peak moment of pleasure was more spiritual than physical. It was surrendering to oneself, letting the moment hang in the air like a pulsing orb of light before melting away back to darkness. Nothing mattered. She became one with him, the room, the shimmering moon floating just outside the window. It was a reminder of human mortality, her only reminder, as she would never experience anything else like it.

It was the only time she truly felt alive.