How to Kill an Incubus

by Kimber Lee

  I reached out, gently pressing a fingertip to his split lip—the lip I’d sucked on just moments ago. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll live,” he replied gruffly, gracefully getting to his feet and extending a hand to not-so-gracefully haul my ass up. “Don’t you understand English? Didn’t I tell you to run?”

  “I’m not good at following orders,” I countered, refusing to react when he wordlessly pulled the hem of my dress down. It had bunched up around my waist during my scuffle with the demon.

  Then, Daniel’s fingers skimmed my thighs. But I stood my ground, his touch doing little to divert my attention from the discovery.

  “You’re a hunter, Daniel.”

  “I think we’ve established that, Rainelle,” he muttered, taking my hand again. “Can you make it home? I can carry you if…”

  “Carry me?” My most sensitive parts were screaming an affirmative but my brain shook its head no. “I’ll live,” I said, repeating the words he’d shoved at me moments ago. “Just… tell me how you’re a hunter. This should be good.”

  He looked at me, his eyes inquisitive. But he just said, “You need to sleep. We’ll talk later.”

  Yawning, I mentally agreed. Something told me that I would need my strength for whatever Daniel would tell me… later.

  I was in my bedroom in the Parishville house… but something didn’t seem right.

  For starters, there were no walls, just an expanse of white that cocooned my bed and vanity table. Then there was the fact that, after glancing down at myself, I discovered I was wearing a baby doll I had lost in a hotel in Ibiza years ago. But that wasn’t nearly as bizarre as the sight of this giant of a man sitting at my vanity table—his back was to me but there was no reflection in the mirror.

  “So tell me.” His voice quietly commanded my attention. “Why are you shutting me out?”

  I swallowed, now knowing without a shadow of a doubt that this was a dream. “Hello, Andrei.”

  He rose from the stool, the muscles on his back straining under his black T-shirt with the movement. I had forgotten what his body did to me—what it did to my insides. I hadn’t even seen his face yet. But when I finally did, my breath left me. Just like all the times before, I was entranced by the pale blueness of his eyes. It clashed so exquisitely with the inkiness of his long hair and the hardness of his face that it would have been impossible for me not to stare.

  And stare, I did. Until he was standing right in front of me, his eyes burning holes in my skin.

  “Why am I dreaming about you?” I whispered, tearing my eyes from his azure gaze.

  “You were drinking tonight,” he intoned, reaching out to touch my collarbone.

  It was an odd place to cop a feel, but I still found myself trembling because it felt so damn real.

  “Stop that,” I told him, staying his hand with my own and shooting him a glare. A zing of electricity shot through my fingertips where we touched and I jumped, astonished. “What the hell?!”

  “Kiss me, Rae,” Andrei said, his voice thick with want. He pulled his hand out of mine and brought it to the curve of my waist, his other hand following suit. “Kiss me like you want to fuck me.”

  I made an odd noise in my throat and got on my tiptoes to do just that. Our bodies melded together when our lips met and my hands clutched at the cotton fabric of his shirt, pulling him even closer—lips parted, tongues dueled, and moisture pooled in my panties.

  “Need… your… cock,” I groaned, popping the button of his jeans and dragging the zipper down. “Now.”

  “Fuck, Rae,” Andrei said in a gravelly voice. His hands ran along the curve of my ass and lifted me, pressing my overly sensitized clit against the hard tip of his erection through the fabric of my panties.

  I moaned loudly, reaching between us to hold on to it. He jerked in my hand when my thumb ran over the first beads of semen at the head.

  “You want me,” I breathed into his mouth, nipping at his lower lip.

  “You know I do,” he growled, countering my bite with one of his own.

  “Just fuck me, Andrei. I’m so ready.”

  “Yes?” Then his fingers sought my panties and I allowed them inside, parting my thighs so he’d have easier access to my swollen clit. “Ready for my cock?” He rubbed the tight bundle of nerves, sending heat to every inch of my body. “Ready to come?”

  “Yes!” I whimpered, wanting to come so badly I was blinded by it. “Don’t make me beg.”

  “But I like it when you beg,” he said quietly, withdrawing his fingers and turning me around so that my back was against his front. “What did you tell me the last time I saw you? Jack off?”

  This was all wrong. If I was controlling my dream, wasn’t he supposed to be inside me by now? This level of sexual frustration was way too high. Why would I torture myself in my dreams? After all, I wasn’t that masochistic.

  “You deserved that,” I whispered, biting my lower lip when his fingers traced the underside of one aching breast. “So… did you?”

  “Did I what?” His fingers were dancing around my breasts, but nowhere near my nipples. It was agony.

  “Touch yourself.”

  He let out a laugh, the sound vibrating against my back. “I don’t engage in mundane activities like masturbation.”

  I whirled around and pulled away from him. “Well, since this is my dream, you’re going to engage in a little mundane activity, Your Highness.” I shrugged off the thin straps of my baby doll and let the sheer material skim down my hips and onto the floor.

  Andrei let out an audible gasp, his eyes so dark they were like hot coals. “Rae,” he bit out. “Dammit, come here.”

  “Touch yourself,” I told him, my eyes sliding to the erection poking out of his jeans. “Look at me and touch yourself.”

  His brow creased. “A waste of my time when I could be inside you.”

  “What the hell is wrong with my subconscious mind?” I complained. “You’re not supposed to argue.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’m not?”

  “No,” I said, succumbing to my need and cupping my breasts in my hands.

  They were a good pair, my C-cup girls. At this moment, they felt like heavy sacks of nerves. I put an index finger in my mouth. Then I took it out, brought it down, and experimentally rubbed it against one nipple, before pinching. Andrei let out a painful groan.

  “Jack off for me, Andrei,” I murmured, tweaking both nipples now. “I want to see the king of all the big, bad incubi jerking off for me. Coming for me.”

  “Fuck it,” Andrei grunted, gripping the shaft of his cock in one hand. “Look at what you’ve done to me.”

  I looked.

  Slowly, he moved his hand along his hard length, his grip so tight it looked like he was strangling it. I moaned, the sight so beautiful, so incredible I could’ve come right then and there. But where would the fun be in that?

  Andrei’s palm captured the juices at the crown of his cock and massaged them into his thick, veined flesh. His eyes made love to my naked body while his hand made love to his cock and, without any further thought, I dipped two fingers into the heat of my needy opening.

  “Oh, Andrei,” I exhaled, simultaneously rubbing my thumb against my pulsing clit. “You feel so… so good inside me.”

  His strokes became frantic, his large frame visibly shuddering as he continued to pleasure himself with increasing ferocity. His smoldering gaze never wavered from mine and his desire was so liquid that I was practically bathed in it.

  “Can you feel how wet I am for you?” I murmured, adding another finger to the party inside my pussy. “Can you feel how much I want you?”

  “Witch.” Andrei’s voice was barely a croak. And before I knew it, he was right in front of me, lifting me up and settling me over his cock. My legs were tight around his waist as he walked us to my bed, leaning over me as he pushed himself even further into my tight channel.

  “Yes,” I gasped, the feel of him wit
hdrawing and plunging in again was so delicious I could have died on the spot. “Just like that! Just… like that.” I held onto his shoulder blades, my fingernails sinking into his skin through his shirt.

  “Come for me, Rae,” Andrei commanded, lowering his mouth to one side of my neck and sucking thoroughly before moving to one hardened nipple.

  I cried out, my hands in his hair. “Almost,” I choked out, meeting his every powerful, brutal thrust. “Almost… there…”

  Andrei’s thumb was on my clit in a flash, the sweet pressure bringing me to a climax before I could so much as blink. My insides clenched around Andrei’s length, bringing him to an orgasm with me.

  His body tensed. “Fuck,” he barked, emptying himself inside me for longer than was humanly possible.

  When it was over, his lips brushed against my lips. “So perfect.”

  I looked into his eyes, wordlessly seconding that. It had felt so real, so real and so incredible.

  “Rainelle! Rainelle, dammit!” Someone slapped me. Hard.

  My eyes flew open and pain heated my right cheek. “What the hell?” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded hoarse from screaming.

  I groggily sat up, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands.

  Daniel cleared his throat. “You were having a nightmare. Or something.”

  I looked up, wincing. Daniel was hovering over my bed. In a white V-necked T-shirt and slate grey board shorts. He didn’t look like he’d been attacked by a demon last night—save for the purpling bruise on his temple and a slightly swollen lower lip. I, on the other hand, was sore all over. Even my fingers hurt.

  “A nightmare,” I whispered, blushing. “Yeah. That’s what it was.” I paused, rubbing my cheek and scowling at him. “You didn’t have to hit me.”

  Daniel looked sheepish. “Sorry about that. I, uh, made breakfast.”

  “You broke into my house?”

  “No, I had a key made.”

  Now I was fully awake. “What?”

  “This was a long time ago, Rainelle,” Daniel said flippantly, not meeting my eye. “How else was I supposed to get Paisley in to put up the wards?”

  “Paisley? Wards? What the hell are you talking about?” I kicked the covers off as I said this, getting to my feet and instantly regretting it. My entire body cried out in protest. “Well, I’m never drinking again.”

  “People like us should never drink. Shit, are you gonna put any clothes on?”

  I looked down at myself, mortified. Sure enough, I was as naked as a newborn. Without faltering, I grabbed my nightgown and robe off the floor and shrugged them on, fastening the belt around my waist before turning to face Daniel.

  “So who’s Paisley?” I said coolly, a twisted part of me enjoying the sight of an obviously aroused Daniel Lawless in my bedroom. “Girlfriend of yours?”

  Daniel scoffed. “Hardly. I’d never date a witch.”

  I groaned. “You really are a hunter.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It is,” I muttered, walking past him on my way to the bathroom. I closed the door behind me and quickly used the facilities. Well, as quickly as my throbbing body would allow me.

  Jumping the demon couldn’t have been the sole reason for my body aching the way it did. I tugged my gown open and examined my body, squinting into the mirror.

  Dry cum was evident between my thighs—evidence that my wet dream had succeeded in satisfying me. This rankled me. Of course, it probably had something to do with the fact that I hadn’t seen the guy in three weeks, since the night I’d kicked him out of my bedroom. My head was a conflicting mess. Half of me missed the sex like a missing limb, and the other half hoped that I’d never see him again. Both halves fought for total dominance in my head.

  Clearly, the sex-crazed half had won last night.

  “Dirty whore,” I spat at my reflection, before doing a double take.

  There, on the right side of my neck, was the unmistakable purple mark of a hickey—exactly where Dream Andrei had kissed my neck.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” I said politely, watching Daniel stack the dirty dishes in the sink. I was sitting at the center island, half a cup of lukewarm coffee the only remainder of the feast Daniel had made me that morning.

  “Anything for a hungover damsel in distress,” he retorted, chuckling.

  “Very funny.” There was no sting in my voice because I didn’t have the energy for it. I was still chilled by my discovery in the bathroom and what it could possibly mean. And being with Daniel like this only made me feel dirty and guilty.

  For the first time ever, I noticed how empty my life was. All the beautiful, intricate details meant nothing if I was the only one that got to appreciate them. Seeing Daniel doing something as mundane and coupley as doing the dishes brought a lump to my throat.

  “You okay?”

  I hadn’t noticed that he was standing opposite me, a concerned look on his face.

  I nodded, forcing myself to smile.

  “Last night,” he began, “was a little overwhelming for you.” He paused, cocking his head. “Have you ever considered that being the female answer to Cheaters isn’t your calling?”

  I gaped at him, nearly toppling the stool I was sitting on. “I… I thought you thought I was a writer.” It hadn’t been my most creative lie, but it was the most believable.

  “Babe,” Daniel said quietly, “I’ve been following you since Raymond died. I know everything about you.”

  I swallowed the ball in my throat, tears springing to my eyes. “You knew my dad?”

  He smiled, and that made him infinitely more handsome. “He taught me almost everything I know, sweetheart. Good hunter, great guy.”

  I rubbed at my eyes. This was surreal. “Following… me?”

  “I promised him,” he said matter-of-factly, coming around the island. “Please don’t cry, Rainelle.”

  Of course, whenever I thought of what had befallen my father, I did the opposite. Big, fat tears slid down my cheeks and into my open mouth. Daniel sighed heavily and wrapped his arms around me, pressing my face into his chest. His scent, a sandalwood aftershave, calmed me down immediately and I found that my loud, choking sobs had quickly morphed to soft whimpers.

  “There you go, pet,” he murmured, gently stroking my hair and letting me cry it all out.

  I sure as hell didn’t want to raise my head and have him see me looking like a red-faced Cabbage Patch Kid. Pulling back and turning away from him, I used the sleeve of my gown to wipe my tears away.

  “You up to talking?” Daniel asked, his deep voice filling the room.

  I nodded, returning his gaze then. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. My street cred will go down the toilet when it gets out that I don’t flee from crying women.”

  I smiled, for real this time. “Wouldn’t want that.”

  He flashed me a sexy smile in return. “Exactly.”

  “So,” I forced myself to be serious. “Paisley and the wards?”

  “You do know what a ward is, right?”

  I thought about it. I had heard that term before. A long time ago… “Either a room, an area, or a charge? The Jane Eyre type of ‘charge’.”

  Daniel cursed under his breath. “Bloody hell. I mean, I knew from Ray that you weren’t interested in hunting, but come the fuck on!”

  “Hey, don’t raise your voice at me.”

  He took a deep breath. “Of course, of course. Sorry, babe. A ward is a spell that’s put up to protect a place or a person. Now, basically, your house was a sitting duck. Any demon could’ve strolled in here and killed you.” He paused, letting that sink in. It did. “I got Paisley to put a ward around your house. That means no demon can set foot on your land. It’s like an invisible force field shutting them out.”

  “Thank you,” was all I could say. If I’d known about wards, I would’ve put them up in all my homes.

  “Don’t mention it. It’s what I had
to do.”

  I sucked in air. “You said you… follow me?”

  “To protect you. Although, it doesn’t help that you jet off around the world all the time and I lose track of you.”

  Fat lot of good you’ve done me, I thought witheringly. If he had been protecting me, how come I was always surrounded by incubi?

  Instead, I muttered, “It’s my job,” and folded my arms across my chest.

  “Scorned women aren’t that important, Rainelle. Raymond wanted you to…”

  “Shut up, Daniel,” I interjected, hopping off the stool. “I don’t need to hear this. I can’t believe my father made you my babysitter!”

  His hazel eyes flickered with anger. “Your father knew that you were too stupid to want to know how to protect yourself.”

  My hand had a mind of its own when it lashed out and thwacked Daniel across the cheek. I stared at it for a moment, stunned. Then Daniel pounced on me, shoving me up against the refrigerator. A second passed before his mouth was on mine—warm, soft, and delicious. I groaned, looping my arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss, his tongue slithering into my mouth and dancing with mine.

  “You taste so good,” he rumbled into my mouth before sucking on my bottom lip. His hands ran up my sides, leaving a scorching heat in their wake. I was positive I’d have third-degree burns there afterward. “So, so bloody good.”

  “Mmm,” I murmured, because despite everything, the swell of his erection against my lower belly was so welcome.

  But he dragged his lips from mine, scowling.

  “Not again,” he fumed, pulling out of my embrace. “Dammit, Rainelle. Why are you doing this?”

  “You jumped me,” I protested.

  “You provoked me!”

  “Awesome excuse.” I licked my bottom lip, shivering under his stare. “You need to go.”

  “God, yes,” he said, his eyes so full of need that it was hard to believe it was all for me.

  “Like right now, Daniel.”

  “Yeah. We need to talk about this though.”

  “The kissing?” Yes, let’s talk about how inexplicably guilty I feel whenever we kiss. Note the sarcasm.