Morgan plucked a glass ornament from the box, and her eyebrows furrowed together. “I get your outfit, but if this if your idea of kink, I must admit that this is new, and I’m passing.”
Riley rolled her eyes and took the ornament away. “Ha. Ha.” She deadpanned. “They’re decorations. Since you’re the biggest Scrooge I know, I figured that I’d bring you some Christmas joy.”
Morgan looked amused by the sentiment. “So you’re here to de-Scrooge me?”
“There are so many ways I could respond to that.” Riley smirked. “But I’m going to practice some self-control.”
“For once,” Morgan added. She inspected the other contents in the box. “I told you before that I don’t do Christmas.” She shook her head. “Not in real life, and not in the dream world.”
Riley’s lower lip slipped out. “What if I say please?”
“How badly do you want me to do this?” Morgan’s gaze lifted and she raised an eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t have cast a box of decorations and conjured a movie if I wanted to force this on you. If that were the case, I could have just shoved a lit tree in your living room.” Riley picked up a glass icicle and tapped it against her lips before pointing it at the other woman. “But if you’re asking me to beg, that’s not gonna happen.”
Morgan’s face was unreadable. “I’m not asking you to beg. I might just be implying you could try harder.”
“I’ve never had to work this hard.” Riley scoffed and set down the glass ornament.
“And yet you keep coming back for more.”
Riley threw her hands up in dramatic flair. “If you don’t want me here, Morgan, all you had to do was say so.” She scrambled on her feet and reclaimed the box from the ground. She was on her way to a grand exit but was stopped when long, feminine fingers wrapped around her bicep.
“Hey, are you really leaving?”
“Yeah.” Riley shrugged, nonplussed. “Why not? You’re not going to appreciate this, so why waste my time?”
Morgan looked down at her feet. “Is it that? Or, would you rather be somewhere else right now?”
Riley hesitated as she mulled over her response. “No.” She should have lied. “Nowhere at all.” The admission made her feel vulnerable.
Morgan’s smile was gentle and encouraging, and Riley hated the butterflies that assaulted her stomach whenever it appeared. “Then shall we begin to decorate?”
The succubus was unconvinced, but she wasn’t going to fight it. “You’re gonna let me de-Scrooge you?”
“I have no idea what I’m agreeing to if I say yes.” Morgan’s lips twisted. “Maybe you should be a little more specific.” She carefully traced the tips of her fingers over the hemline of Riley’s outfit.
The curious touch made Riley laugh. “You, my friend, are a strange one.” Her watch jangled with an incoming message, and she paused long enough to inspect it.
“Yeah. Friend,” she thought she heard Morgan mutter.
“Pardon?” Riley asked, still looking at her watch.
“Nothing.”
Riley raised an eyebrow. “Okay, let’s figure out where the tree will go.”
Riley stepped out of the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe. “The coffee’s done. I’d make it for you, but I don’t know how you like it. I didn’t even know you drank coffee,” she admitted. “I figured you for a tea girl.”
Morgan looked over her shoulder. “It’s okay. I’ll be in there soon. I’m putting on the finishing touches.”
Riley watched Morgan delicately place a few strands of tinsel on a branch. “It looks good, don’t you think?”
Morgan took a step back to inspect her work. “Yeah. It all looks nice.”
Riley pushed herself off the door jam. “Well, I think my job here is done. You’re officially de-Scrooged.” She fiddled with her watch. “Besides,” she said, tapping at the watch face. “My time is going to be up soon.”
“You really have to go?”
“I don’t have a choice.” Riley weakly smiled. “You know that.” The last of Darren’s present was gone. She’d wanted to make the extraneous energy last longer, but she’d taken the final vial earlier in the visit.
Morgan crossed the room and folded her arms in front of her chest. “I know. I’ve caught on to that part by now.”
“So don’t seem so sad about it.”
Morgan’s eyes moved around the room, anywhere but at the succubus. She glanced up at the archway above them and, looking back down to Riley, let a dimpled smile escape.
“Well, don’t seem so excited by it either,” Riley huffed.
“We’re standing under mistletoe.”
Riley’s eyes went to the ceiling. “Huh. Look at that.” She took a step backward so she was no longer standing under the archway.
“Do you know the stories behind that?” Morgan wrung her hands. “One revolves around betrayal and death. And another one I know is about the berries being the seeds of the gods. Fertility and stuff.”
Riley cleared her throat. She hadn’t known the history of the innocuous plant. For as long as she could remember, mistletoe had been used as an excuse to kiss people. “Well, we don’t have to follow any stupid traditions. The decorations were more than enough.”
“What if I don’t want to skip it?” Morgan took a step forward. “Traditions are around for a reason. We have to uphold them, don’t we?”
Riley’s eye caught on a bright bit of yellow. The hallway vase now contained flowers; she hadn’t noticed when that had happened. “The yellow woodsorrel.” She recalled the plant from the backyard.
“Weeds are flowers, too,” Morgan breathed.
Riley swallowed, not knowing what to say or do. Morgan looked a bit unsure, but she collected herself enough to lean forward for a kiss. She closed the final distance, not giving Riley the opportunity to back out. Even though the kiss was soft and closemouthed, Riley felt her composure slip. She placed her palms against Morgan’s shoulders and reluctantly pried herself away.
“I can’t do this.”
Morgan’s mouth twitched. “Still? I have to say, you’re not a very good succubus.”
Riley didn’t let herself be affected by the words. She knew they were the product of frustration and confusion. “It’s … I can’t, Morgan. It’s wrong.”
“But I trust you, Riley. I’m at one hundred percent. And I think I have been for a while now.” Energy rippled through Riley’s body at the voiced confession.
Riley shook her head. “I can’t.”
It should have been easy. It was her job to fulfill a mark’s sexual desires. But she knew it would be too painful for her to have Morgan in that way for only a single night. It wouldn’t have been enough. Anything short of them being together in the waking world would have been torment. As a succubus she could accomplish her duties and satisfy Morgan’s needs, but as a person with real emotions and feelings, she refused to do that to her heart.
“You’ve been wanting this since the day you barged into my dreams. Now that I’m ready, you’re no longer interested?”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested. I want you, Morgan. Trust me when I say that,” Riley emphasized. “But you know that things are different between us.”
Morgan’s cheeks visibly flushed. “And you have a girlfriend.”
This had nothing to do with Amber, but Riley didn’t need to voice that. She knew that Morgan believed her refusal was wrapped in a fidelity to a relationship she no longer had. It was easier to let her continue to believe that than admit the truth.
“Couldn’t you act like I’m one of your other nightly stops?” Morgan reasoned.
Riley’s mouth drooped at its edges. “You know it’s not the same. You’re not just anyone.”
“Can’t you try?” Morgan’s voice sounded desperate.
“I can’t pretend that you’re not you. You’re not just another mark. And if we did anything, it would mean something.” Riley hesitated. “At least it would for me.
And that makes it wrong.”
She couldn’t pursue that level of intimacy. Lucid or not, Morgan’s intentions were not something she knew how to read. Fleeting moments she’d witnessed could have been nothing more than her own imagination, wishful thinking that would deflate her if they were one-sided. Morgan had tentatively pushed their limits physically, but Riley could have merely been her test subject.
Morgan nodded, looking glum. The floor had become very interesting.
Riley grabbed Morgan’s slender biceps and pulled her closer. “Don’t be sad, okay?” she whispered. “I don’t want our last days to be like this.”
Hazel-green eyes refused to look up. “You make it sound permanent.”
“It’s not. Only a year.” Riley forced what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
“You’re right,” Morgan agreed. “The end of days shouldn’t be like this.”
“And the way I stated it sounded too ‘permanent?’” Riley teased but Morgan refused to acknowledge the joke. She cupped Morgan’s face and gently forced her chin up until they made eye contact. “Don’t be sad. Please.” With reluctance she pulled away from the contact and dropped both hands at her sides.
Morgan reached out to fiddle with the succubus’s wristwatch. The timepiece countdown was closing in on zero. “You’re going to have to leave soon,” she stated dully.
Riley fell silent at the words. She continued to stare at Morgan, who was still avoiding eye contact. She could try to reason with herself and provide a multitude of reasons why this was a bad idea, but to make Morgan happy, she would ignore both her heart and her head.
Finally, deciding, Riley took hold of Morgan’s face once again. “No. I don’t.”
She stroked her thumbs across Morgan’s cheekbones and fell into a watery hazel-green stare. Sorry, Riley. She was immortal; if she was lucky, the beating organ in her chest would eventually forgive her.
Entangling her fingers within Morgan’s long hair, Riley pulled her into a crushing, desperate kiss. It was eager, lustful, and long overdue.
And then she saw it—the beginning glow of yellow energy flowing through Morgan’s body.
“What’s wrong?” Morgan panted, brow furrowed and annoyed that Riley had once again stopped.
“Are you sure about this?” Riley tested, pulling back even further.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You understand that if I don’t drain your energy, I’ll get ejected from the dream.” She no longer had a private reserve on which to rely. “It won’t hurt you. But …”
“You don’t want me to feel like you’re using me,” Morgan finished for her.
Riley nodded.
“How badly do you want this, Riley?”
“I think you know.” Riley’s voice was hoarse.
“I know the rules.” Morgan took the succubus’s hands in her own and brushed her lips against her knuckles. “And I want you. I know you won’t hurt me.”
“You know, I wouldn’t have to drain you if this was out of the realm.”
Morgan smiled coyly. “I know, but I want you right now. So …”
“I guess I’ll have to make that Christmas wish come true.” Riley smirked, starting to feel like herself again.
“Well, I have been good all year,” Morgan teased.
“A little too good for my liking,” Riley returned.
“Let’s change that.” Morgan touched the side of Riley’s face.
Her eyes fluttered shut at the warm touch, and she leaned into Morgan’s hand. She felt Morgan’s mouth brush against her lips again and a soft sigh escaped into the space between their parted mouths.
Morgan placed more pressure against her mouth as if challenging Riley to deny her for a second time that night. This time, however, as Riley’s hands came to firmly rest on Morgan’s hips, she wouldn’t be turned away.
It had been up to Morgan to push the succubus beyond her unfathomable self-control, but now that she had Morgan’s repeated consent, Riley took back the reins and the pacing of their encounter. Riley pushed Morgan back onto the couch with her fingertips against her collarbone and straddled her lap. Morgan’s hands roamed over Riley’s body, exploring her contours, but still mildly hesitant.
Riley pushed the grey cardigan down Morgan’s shoulders; the garment bunched at her elbows, restricting her arm movements. She cared less about her own pleasure that night and more about Morgan’s. She peppered wet kisses down the expanse of her throat.
Riley ground against the woman straddled between her thighs, eliciting tortured moans from them both. The fire in the mantle sparked, blazing hotter. The temperature in the room perceptibly spiked with each feverish touch, each fervent kiss. Riley wanted to slip her hand beneath the waistband of those damn yoga pants and slide her fingers through the arousal that she knew was waiting for her. Instead, she kept her fists balled in the material of Morgan’s sweater, not wanting to go too fast for either of them.
The strap of Morgan’s lilac camisole slid off her shoulder, and Riley greedily pounced on the newly exposed skin. She kissed her way down Morgan’s neck, rotating between light pressure and playful nips. Riley usually talked through her seduction, murmuring encouraging words and promises of what was to come, but she partly feared that anything more substantial than a groan or sigh would have them watching Christmas movies instead of following through with this. There would be time for movies later. Much, much later.
The yellow energy glow was like a halo enveloping Morgan’s body. She needed to feed before her watch reached zero.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You’re beautiful.” Riley held Morgan lightly at the elbows. “Are you sure about this?” she asked again. She’d never asked for permission before.
“Stop being so noble.”
Riley wet her lips and parted her mouth. She watched as the yellow vapor whirled before it inched into her parted lips. The taste was crisp, and there was a subtle sweetness. But the feeling was fleeting as the yellow haze that passed through Riley overwhelmed her senses. Her eyes widened as the energy passed her and settled into her watch. “Holy sh …”
“Are you okay?”
Riley blinked a few times and shook her head. “Yeah. Head rush.”
Morgan worried her bottom lip. “Is that a good thing?”
Riley’s nostrils flared and she felt herself slipping into her primordial senses. She licked her lips. Morgan was a gold star.
“A very good thing,” she purred. Riley slid off the couch and onto her knees. The throw rug was thin, and she could feel the bite of solid ground, but she wasn’t about to waste time over comfort. She pulled Morgan’s top up, revealing the flat abdomen that had been hidden beneath. Pressing eager kisses against Morgan’s stomach, Riley smiled as she felt the skin twitch and flex beneath her attentions.
“I want this in the waking world,” Riley murmured against the taut skin. Outside of dreams, she wouldn’t need to wait on a full name for consent. She wouldn’t have to work around sleep schedules or alarms on watches. But mostly, in the waking world, she could make whatever they had real. It would be more than a fantasy, more than a dream for Morgan to dismiss. And because of that, just maybe she’d be brave enough to pursue it.
“You will,” Morgan panted aloud. “One day.” She arched into Riley’s worshiping mouth. “Ambre.”
Riley’s head snapped up. “Are you trying to ruin this?” she scowled.
“No! I don’t mean her. I mean …” Morgan gathered a deep breath. “Morgan Ambre Sullivan. And it’s spelt a-m-b-r-e, thank you very much.”
Riley’s mouth gaped. “Your name … How do you know about cubare consent?”
Morgan smirked down at the kneeling woman. “You forget this isn’t my first rodeo, Succubus.”
Before Riley could fully appreciate what Morgan had declared, there was a sound at the front of the house, like the doorknob rattling.
“What’s wrong?” Morgan looked concerned.
Riley covered
Morgan’s mouth. She brought her lips to Morgan’s ear. “Shh.”
The warm breath against the shell of her ear caused Morgan to involuntarily shudder. Riley pulled Morgan from the couch. “You need to wake up.”
Morgan’s eyes were wide with fright and confusion. “I don’t know how. I usually wait around until I’m sent back.”
Riley jerked open a door and mentally cursed when she saw the jackets hanging from the straight bar and the rain galoshes that lined the floor. “In there,” she urged.
Morgan willingly went inside the closet.
From the corridor, Riley eyeballed the confined space. Another sound rang, this time from the kitchen. The sound of breaking glass was distinct. Someone was breaking in. More than one cubare could access a mark at the same time, but only with the main contracting agent’s permission. She had not, however, given anyone permission to access Morgan’s dream realm. And Trusics had made it nearly impossible for independent cubare to access database clients by way of binding user agreements.
Riley weighed her options. She could risk a fight with the unwelcome guest, or she could hide, but Morgan decided for her, grabbing her wrist and dragging her inside the closet. Riley squeezed her eyes shut as the walls of the closet immediately crushed in on her. Morgan tugged on her arm, pulling her down, and her knees struck hard against the closet floor. She bit back a pained cry; beyond the closed closet door were the unmistakable sounds of an intruder rummaging.
She breathed out harshly through her nose, convinced she was going to suffocate. She could hear glass shattering and loud, stomping boots coming from the rest of the house, but facing whomever was out there had to be better than drowning in a closet.
A calm voice met her ear. “I’m right here.” Morgan’s fingers tightened around her shoulder.
Drained: The Lucid Page 26