Succubus Kiss The Complete Series

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Succubus Kiss The Complete Series Page 27

by Jennifer Snyder


  I refused to answer him with words. While I liked the game he was playing, I wasn’t one to beg. “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give,” I breathed.

  “Oh, I happen to like the sound of that,” he growled.

  My top was removed with ease. Seconds later, Randal’s hand was slipping along my stomach, inching toward my breast while he watched me squirm beneath him. It took everything I had not to beg him for more—to kiss me more, to touch me more, to rip away my panties, and slam into me.

  I had never been a beggar, but in that moment, I wondered if Randal might hold the power to change such a thing.

  Chapter 18

  My eyes closed at some point as I became lost in the buildup happening inside me. I bit my tongue so I wouldn’t ask for more or say things in the heat of the moment that would embarrass me later. Randal’s touch abruptly disappeared. I waited a few breaths before opening my eyes to see why. He was staring at me.

  His hooded gaze swept across my naked body unabashedly. Chills swept across my skin as though I could feel the touch of his eyes grazing me.

  The air in the room seemed to still. I could feel each compression of my heart as I looked at him, wondering what it was that he saw. As I watched him, he never lifted his eyes to mine. It was almost as though he were memorizing every inch of my body, every freckle, every mole, every imperfection I’d ever loathed.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t handle the intensity of the moment any longer, he broke the bubble we were trapped in.

  “I don’t deserve you.” Raw emotion darkened his features as he continued to stare down at me. “I don’t deserve this moment.”

  My stomach shrank at his words. I was about to tell him otherwise, to insist I wasn’t some virtuous maiden swimming in purity, to tell him that he needed to let me step down off the pedestal he had placed me on, but before I could open my mouth to speak, his hand reached out and cupped my right breast. My nipple pebbled beneath the deliberate strokes of his thumb and all my words disappeared.

  “But I want you.” His lips crushed against mine. The kiss was hard, biting, raw, and aggressive. It was everything I wanted from him and more. “Do you want me too, Kenna?”

  I can tell that you do, my mind finished for him, remembering the dream he had starred in.

  He bent down and captured my right nipple in his hot mouth. I moaned, giving him an answer without having to use words. My back arched toward him as my fingers slid through his hair. I entwined them as deeply as I could, and then pinned him closer. He sucked and nibbled, sending shockwaves through me and dampening the pulsing area between my legs even more.

  “Tell me, Kenna,” he breathed. “Let me know the things I feel for you aren’t one sided, let me know that you feel them too.”

  My mind ceased. Was this real? Or was this a dream? He’d said nearly those exact words to me in a dream.

  “Tell me,” he breathed against my nipple, the cool air of the room and the hot air of his breath making a dizzying combination. His hand slipped along my waist, gliding toward my hip. Once it dipped lower, my body screamed for him to offer me a release of some sort. “Tell me. Let me know you want me too, Kenna. I need to hear the words.”

  His fingers pushed the fabric of my panties away, and he stroked along the wetness of my center with precision.

  “I want you.” The words left me in a pant I hadn’t been able to rein in. Heat flushed my skin as I felt embarrassment creep through me from having nearly begged him to touch me.

  “Good.” The few remaining articles of clothing that had been separating us were shed faster than I’d ever thought possible, and then Randal was throbbing hot and hard against my thigh.

  I locked eyes with him, waiting for his fangs to disperse the way they had in my dream, but they never did. Instead, he lined up and slammed into me. I cried out from the shock of the sudden movement, but the cry died in the air as it turned into a loud moan of approval. Every inch of him filled me, widening me in ways I hadn’t felt in too long. My stomach coiled with pleasure, which spread through my body as my legs wrapped around his hips, allowing him to deepen his thrusts.

  Randal buried his face into the curve of my neck. My body tensed as I waited for the sharp prick of his teeth, unsure whether I wanted to feel them. Kisses and laps of his tongue were all I felt as he continued with his powerful pace.

  “Harder,” I breathed against his ear as I squeezed him between my thighs.

  He pulled back, his face taut with lust, his eyes glimmering with a hunger I had never witnessed before. It was dark and primal as he situated himself to give me what I asked for. He pounded into me exactly as I’d wanted. The headboard banged against the wall, making a steady beat for him to keep up with as he lured me closer to climax with each powerful thrust.

  My orgasm tore through me, pulling, tugging, and pinching my insides. I cried out, sounding like a banshee floating through the night as I felt ripples of pleasure roll through me. Randal’s hips jerked against me, one, two, three times before his head fell back and a groan that sent aftershocks through me spilled from his lips.

  Our hot breath mingled in the air between us as his head fell forward, his eyes locking with mine. Once he slipped out of me, he rolled onto his side and leaned his head against mine. A chuckle vibrated through him as he kissed my clammy temple. Delicious tingles of warmth slipped up and down my spine as I smoothed my hand along his glistening chest, my limbs feeling warm and languid.

  “I may have lost control of myself for a moment.” His hand moved to tuck me into his side more. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “That was more primal than I thought it would be though.”

  Another rumble of laughter left him. It vibrated the bed. “I apologize.” His hands came up to smooth along his face, and I wondered if he was embarrassed by his actions.

  I shifted to glance at him. Pink tinted his cheeks, and there was a boyish look plastered across his face. He was embarrassed by his loss of control, and I liked it.

  In that moment, Randal wasn’t an ancient vampire, he was a normal twenty-something guy who had just broken through some tall walls and allowed himself to become lost in pleasure. There was nothing sweet about what we’d done; it was all raw and sharp edges, hard and intense, pain and pleasure twisted together in a beautiful never-ending knot. It had been exactly what we both needed.

  Smoothing a hand along his bicep, I watched him, waiting for my breathing to even out. His already seemed to have done so. It was the one reminder of what he was, not human, that threatened to darken the beauty I was seeing in him and our moment.

  I didn’t want to be a vampire and a succubus. I wanted to be a girl and a boy, a man and a woman—normal.

  “Don’t. That was.” I tried to think of a word to best describe it. “Amazing.”

  Randal leaned up on his elbow and stared at me, his eyes still hooded by lust. “It was, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.” I grinned.

  “The next time will be even better. I promise you.” His hand came out and brushed a few strands of my dampened hair away from my forehead. “It will be less dominating, dark, and aggressive.”

  I nuzzled my head deeper into my pillow. “And what if that’s the way I like it? What if I don’t want sweet and romantic?” I had no idea where I was going with this. The desire to be a little flirty must have been a remnant from the Kiss of Death bomber still lingering.

  His fingertips trailed along my face, swept over my throat, and down my arm. “You haven’t had sweet and romantic with me yet, so how would you know?”

  I arched a brow at his coy reply. “I guess you’re right.”

  We lapsed into silence.

  He continued trailing his fingertips along my arm, creating crazy patterns followed by gentle strokes. My eyes closed as his touch lulled me to sleep.

  “Sleep, sweetness…” His lips brushed against my temple in a gentle kiss.

  Chill bumps erupted across my skin. My fingerti
ps fumbled in the darkness for my comforter or Randal, whichever I touched first. It only took a second for me to realize something was wrong, because no matter how far I seemed to stretch, I couldn’t feel either. Instead, my fingertips slipped along something hard and cold.

  I held my breath, listening. My muscles stiffened as I waited for any noise that might indicate I was still in bed beside Randal. Nothing. There was no shallow breathing, no dripping from the leaky faucet in my bathroom, no noises stemming from the apartment beside mine. Nothing.

  The utter silence had my heart racing, pulsating in my fingertips and clogging my throat. Against my better judgment, I opened my eyes. Darkness surrounded me. I bit back a scream and forced myself into a sitting position. Once again, I was lying naked on the floor of the black room as icy wisps of something swept over me in an eerily loving manner.

  “Ah, you’re awake.” I knew the voice well already, and like always, it sent shivers along my spine. “I assumed after that romp in the sack you’d be out for a while.” The bitter, teasing tone to the wraith’s words left me wondering if the fact that I had slept with Randal pissed him off.

  He was sitting in the center of the dark room a few feet from me, with his legs crossed. I pulled my knees to my chest in an effort to cover my naked body from his view, but didn’t answer him. The realization that he was inside me, privy to my thoughts and feelings while I enjoyed myself with Randal was unsettling to say the least.

  Wait a minute.

  My eyes swept to him as something dawned on me. This was the first time I hadn’t seen him as a puddle of rippling oil, or some sort of dark vapor rolling in on itself, forming the shape of a man—he was already a man! A shadow man. Solid. Formed. WHOLE!

  My eyes widened as the breath in my chest stilled. How was this possible?

  I zeroed in on him. His hands were pressed together at the palms, his index fingers steepled as one resting against his lips. He still had no eyes, just hollowed-out dark sockets that seemed to move and sway like smoke, but I swore I could feel his stare on me, hard and penetrating, cruel.

  “That’s right, sweet succubus.” His voice made him sound as if he was gloating. “I’m gaining power.”

  How was he gaining power? I hadn’t fed in a few days, not since Sam in the parking lot of Spark. “But I haven’t done anything that would give you more power.” My words were weak, small, and frail, like that of a child. I hated them.

  The shadows making up his face moved and twisted, showing me a wicked smile and letting me know I had amused him.“But of course you have.” He stood and started toward me.

  I scooted against the wall, pressing my back to it as tightly as I could. The wisps of foggy substance that had been weaving themselves in and out of the strands of my hair and slipping along my skin like a needy kitten looking for attention left me. They rushed to him, congregating in the air around him like dogs glad to see their owner return home from work. Were they his pets? I’d thought they were an extension of him the last time, but maybe I had been wrong.

  “You know what I thrive on, what I thirst for.” He paused in front of me, this time leaving just enough space between us for me to believe he might not touch me. It must have been wishful thinking, because the second the thought rippled through my mind, he was reaching out for me. I curled into myself, attempting to hide from his touch, but knew it was an impractical feat. “And you gave me plenty of that tonight.”

  My mind bounced to what Randal and I had done. Had I given him energy from that? Was it even possible? I had thought he only wanted one type of energy from me, but maybe I was wrong.

  His hand stroked against my bare thigh. I tightened my arms around myself and pressed my back to the wall behind me even harder, trying to make myself smaller so that I might seem too tiny for him to touch. “While that wasn’t the type of energy I prefer, at all.” He made a tsking noise as though he were reprimanding a small child. “It did serve a purpose, because now I’m stronger than I was.”

  His fingertips slipped higher along my thigh, and then made their way inward. My breath caught in my throat, and I cringed as I squeezed my thighs together tighter. When would he stop tormenting me? The flashes of red that always pulsated in sync with my heart picked up pace. I shifted my gaze to somewhere in the dark room over his shoulder, unable to bring myself to look at him anymore.

  “There you go. You’ve finally realized screaming and crying does nothing to stop me.” His face dipped closer to mine. “You’re a smart one, sweet succubus.” His breath was ice cold against my face.

  I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands, creating deep half-moon shapes and shockwaves of pain. Screams and pleas would not pass through my lips this time; I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of it.

  My resolve lasted for only a second though, because then the wraith forced his cold fingers between my thighs. A small whimper slipped out, and that was all it took to turn him on even more.

  “Not as tough as you would like to believe, are you?” A rumble of laughter vibrated from him; it echoed through the dark room, causing my skin to prickle with fear. “I can smell it on you, you know, your fear, your panic.” He inhaled deeply, and then his tongue darted out to lick along my cheek.

  I closed my eyes, swallowing the scream rising in my throat. My heart thundered, and I dug my nails into my palms deeper, feeling the exact moment that they pierced the skin.

  “Open up for me,” the wraith demanded. His hands slipped along my knees, gripping them with a gentle pressure. “Sweet succubus, let me in.” He jerked my knees apart in a swift, sharp movement. The whimpers of terror and screams of alarm clawing up my throat burst free.

  I fought him. Kicking and screaming, thrashing, all in an attempt to get him off me, to force him to leave me be. It did me no good. He gripped my upper thighs and pulled me away from the wall. My head bounced off it, and then cracked against the hard flooring beneath me. A wave of dizziness swept over me, drowning my thoughts. I knew I needed to continue to fight, but everything had become so disoriented. Nausea clamped hold of my stomach as I felt the wraith’s lips pressing against my inner thigh, cold and wet. I attempted to right myself but couldn’t.

  “Stop!” someone shouted. It was a male voice. A voice I knew well and was growing to love. A distinguished voice I would recognize anywhere. “Leave her be!”

  My eyes were drawn toward the voice, the way a moth was to a light. Randal stood behind the wraith, his face harsh lines and sharp edges of anger. It was a look I had never seen up close, one I imagined he would have had when he went to confront Natalia the night the wraith attacked me. No wonder she had seemed so scared and pitiful when he was walking toward her. His expression was murderous.

  “Oh joyous. The boyfriend has come to join the fun.” I could hear the smile in the wraith’s words. He was amused by Randal’s appearance, not frightened or shocked in the least. Was this really happening, or was it a trick of the mind? “You can’t save her. You should know this by now. How many more do I have to take from you before you realize this? I should think one would have been enough.”

  I shifted into a sitting position, eager to be out of the wraith’s reach. Pain sliced through my head as I did so. I focused on it, because it was stronger than the tenderness I’d caused in my palms. I wasn’t sure how Randal was here, or even if he truly was, but I needed to find a way out, and pain might be the only way.

  “No.” Randal’s voice was shaky and disbelieving. He flashed the wraith an incredulous stare. “You can’t be the one.”

  “Oh, but I am,” the wraith confessed without any sympathy. “And you can’t save this one, just like you couldn’t save your sister.”

  My mouth fell open. Had I heard him right? Was I piecing this all together correctly? The wraith that had infected me was the same one that had infected his sister?

  “It can’t be you.” Randal’s feet shuffled back a few steps, the shock of the situation seeming to jar him.

  The wraith mo
ved closer to Randal, its steps purposeful and taunting. “I can still remember the way she tasted…not only her fear and the sweet flavor of her panic, but also her sweet, sweet…well, I’m sure you can imagine.” An amused breath escaped him. “And she didn’t fight me, you know, because by that point, she had long ago given up on you and everything else. She knew no one and nothing could save her.”

  Randal darted forward with a look of pure hatred flaring in his eyes. His fist slammed into the wraith’s jaw, but didn’t connect with anything. There wasn’t anything to connect with. The wraith had rolled in on himself and materialized a few feet behind him.

  “Your rage tastes nearly as good as her juices.” The wraith slipped his black tongue out and licked his smoky lips. He was enjoying tormenting Randal.

  “I refuse to let you talk about her in such a way!” Randal lunged forward, but the wraith was already churning and rolling like wisps of vapor to stand elsewhere.

  “I fear I have struck a chord. While I am enjoying this, you’re not thinking of the situation the way you should,” the wraith taunted. “Someone has a vendetta against you. Wouldn’t you say so? They spent an awfully long time tracking me down with a hoodoo witch’s help. Whomever you’ve pissed off is serious, Randal Vincent. Shouldn’t that be where your thoughts lie?” The wraith opened his mouth and a horrible laugh fell out, exploding through the dark room and making the floor shake beneath me as Randal lurched for him again and missed.

  I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, but the wraith seemed faster. His reflexes quicker, and his form more solid when he wanted it to be.

  He was gaining power by having Randal here. We were doing nothing except making him stronger, fueling him with our emotions. I had to get us out of here. Now. But how? Randal was here with me, which meant there was no one to wake me this time.

  Wasn’t that how it had worked in the past? It hadn’t been me waking myself, but someone else seeing me thrashing about like a mental patient or hearing my scream.

 

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