When Two Souls Meet (Dragons of Paragon Book 2)

by Jan Dockter

  Oz came with a shout, his hands tugging at her hair, his hips thrusting forward, deep into her mouth even as the first gush of his pleasure flooded across her tongue. Isabel swallowed eagerly, eyes closed. In the back of her mind, she was shocked at how good it tasted, how delicious the salty-sharp flavor was. More and more of it rushed into her mouth and Isabel savored every drop, sucking and licking and swallowing until Oz’s hips began to slow and she felt the rigid member between her lips begin to soften.

  She sat back, panting and gasping for breath, then looked up at Oz. He had his eyes closed, and his chest rose and fell with his heavy breathing. He looked down at her, and Isabel grinned, still feeling the heat coursing through her body. “That has to have been at least half natural talent,” Oz told her.

  Isabel shrugged.

  “You don’t remember the night before?” Oz sat down on the couch heavily, still panting.

  “You didn’t go down on me the night before,” he replied. Isabel chuckled and got unsteadily onto her feet. She could feel the pulse of lust still dancing through her veins, along her bones; taking Oz in her mouth had helped, but it wasn’t enough. Good god, this is going to get tricky if what he says is right, she thought, even as she began stripping her clothes off, almost unconsciously.

  Oz watched her, and Isabel saw the mixture of interest, amusement, and renewed desire in his eyes. “If you’re an angel, why are you having sex?” Isabel began letting her hands move over her body slowly, making as much as she possibly could of her curves, for once utterly unself-conscious about the belly she’d had since puberty, or her heavy thighs.

  “Your concept of angels isn’t the real thing,” Oz told her. Isabel saw one of his hands reach down and he began to touch himself, slowly and lightly but steadily. “There’s a lot that humans don’t know about us. We’re not innocent or naïve, and we definitely have sex.” Isabel giggled.

  She climbed onto the couch, focused solely on the man sitting there, stroking himself to hardness once more. Isabel slipped one hand between her legs, and she felt how hot and wet she was: utterly soaking, her fingers coated in an instant. She found her clitoris by touch and began to rub it, in light, swirling touches, closing her eyes as a tingling jolt of pleasure mingled with need shot through her. “Stop that,” Oz said sharply. Immediately, Isabel’s eyes opened, and her fingers withdrew. She stared at Oz, confused and disappointed.

  “Why?” Oz reached out with his free hand and cupped her vulva, rubbing the heel of his palm against her until Isabel moaned.

  “Because,” Oz said, his fingers slipping and sliding between her labia, slowly pushing into her, making her shiver and gasp, “you should always let the person you’re about to feed on have a taste first.” He plunged two fingers inside of her all the way and Isabel cried out; it felt so tight – tighter than it had been the last time they’d had sex, almost as tight as it had been the first time she slept with someone.

  Oz withdrew his fingers and Isabel frowned. Every nerve in her body was screaming for pleasure; she needed it, not just wanted it. Before she could say anything, Oz let go of his already-hard cock and reached for her. This time, instead of fingering her, he grabbed her by the waist with both hands and lifted her up, until she was just above his lap. “Tell me what you want, Isabel,” Oz said.

  “I want to ride you, hard and fast,” Isabel told him. “I want to feel you come inside me.” Oz gently lowered her until her labia barely brushed against his erection, her legs straddling him.

  “Then do it,” he said mildly.

  Isabel shifted on top of him, reaching down to guide the tip of Oz’s cock against her slippery, drenched folds until she found the exact spot where she wanted him. She sank down onto him, pushing her hips to take him all at once. Oz’s hands moved to her hips, and then back, cupping her buttocks, holding her tightly as Isabel took him in. “Fuck,” she moaned. It felt like a minor miracle that he’d fit inside of her at all. She felt so full, so tight around him. Oz’s cock throbbed inside of her and Isabel began to move, twisting her hips, rubbing her pleasure center against him as she rode him, taking him deeper and deeper. She gripped the back of the couch to steady herself, moving faster, moaning again and again at the heat of him inside of her, at the sensation of being full where she’d felt so empty only moments before. It was unlike any sex she’d ever had in her life; intense in a way she had never experienced before, her body flexing around the hard cock invading it as if it were simultaneously trying to defend itself and pull him in.

  “Did I forget to mention?” Oz began thrusting up into her, rubbing along her inner walls, the tip of his cock brushing against her g-spot with almost every movement. “It’s – it’s going to be the best sex of – of your life, every time.” He claimed her mouth, kissing her hungrily as Isabel moved. She flexed around him, and felt the movement of the muscles, felt the squeeze, and then the reaction from his body as he began to twitch, deep inside of her.

  Before she knew it, Isabel felt the mounting tension and heat between her hips reach its highest point, and then all of a sudden it broke; wave after wave after wave of sensation washing through her. Even with the mind-blowing pleasure of her orgasm, she was keenly aware of Oz reaching his own climax, the sticky-slick gush of heat rushing into her body as he moaned against her lips and pushed her buttocks down until he was as deep in her as possible, his fingers pressing into her skin almost hard enough to bruise. Isabel broke away from his lips, shrieking in pleasure, electric sensation crackling through every nerve of her body as she succumbed to the end of their tryst.

  Chapter Six

  Isabel stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom, feeling the lingering slickness, the tender sensation along her labia. She had retreated to her bed when she had recovered from the encounter with Oz, confused, satisfied, and worried in equal measures. Oz had remained behind, and Isabel was grateful for that; she needed time to think. She needed to wrap her mind around what was happening to her, and what Oz had told her would continue to happen moving forward. “This is so screwed up,” she told the ceiling.

  She had always had a healthy sexual appetite, but the way she had gone down on Oz, the way she had ridden him, the absolute hunger she had experienced was something totally out of her understanding. Isabel shook her head, baffled by how good the sex had been as well as how much she had not just wanted but needed it. “At least I’m good for a day, I guess,” she said absently.

  “You technically don’t need to feed again for another two days, if you don’t want to,” Oz said from her bedroom door. He came into the room, and Isabel fought off the sense of irritation she felt; she needed way more answers.

  “I thought you said I’d need it nightly?”

  Oz shook his head.

  “Once you’re fully transformed, you will,” he said. He smiled slightly. “Given your current appetite, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were so voracious you needed it a few times a night.” Isabel groaned, turning over onto her side, away from him.

  “This is humiliating,” she said, not bothering to look at the man.

  “It’s definitely something to adjust to,” Oz said. His voice was surprisingly mild. “But there are benefits.”

  “Oh yes, getting out of tickets and getting my boss to let me leave early for the day with pay are huge benefits,” she said. Oz chuckled.

  “You’re thinking too small,” he told her. “You can control the mind of any man – well, gay men are iffy. But think about what that means.”

  Isabel considered it.

  “If you’re thinking I can just go around getting guys to give me money …” the idea felt dirty to her.

  “You could,” Oz said. “You could also become a model; no male designer would tell you no. You could go into sex work – that way you’d get paid and be guaranteed to get the feedings you need.” Isabel cringed. He’s not wrong, but going into sex work just because … she shook her head, sighing.

  “It would feel wrong,” she told him.

 
“There’s a more important concern,” Oz said. Isabel turned over to face him, confused.

  “What more important concern?”

  “You’re vulnerable,” Oz told her. “Remember how you ended up like this?” Isabel rolled her eyes and sat up, feeling the slick slither of her fluids mingled with Oz’s against her labia, along her inner thighs.

  “According to you, by having sex with you and also a vampire,” she said tartly.

  “Right,” Oz said. “And unfortunately, that fact puts you in more than a slightly awkward position. That’s why I’m here – not just to tell you what you are and to give you a good feeding.” He gave her a faint, almost sardonic smile.

  “Okay,” Isabel said. She licked her lips and combed her fingers through her hair. “So, explain this to me.”

  “Vampires and angels, we don’t get along,” Oz said. “Not really, anyway. It’s not exactly a good versus evil thing, though you can think of it that way. It’s more a question of factions. Vampires are creatures of night; they can go out during the day, at least after their first hundred years, but they have to be careful.”

  “This isn’t exactly explaining the awkwardness,” Isabel told him.

  “Listen to me,” Oz said. Isabel subsided, taking a deep breath.

  “Explain that, too; the way you can make me do whatever you want, whether I want to or not,” she demanded.

  “It’s because I helped create you,” Oz said. “Your body obeys my commands.” Isabel raised an eyebrow at that but decided to let it pass; there were more important things to find out. “Vampires and angels, we both have a vested interest in keeping succubi contained. However, we have different opinions about how to accomplish that.”

  “How so?” Oz sat down on the edge of her bed.

  “Angels ... we mostly try to help succubi by setting them up with a host. Someone who can satisfy their needs. Or we steer them into providing sex therapy, or other things like that.”

  “Okay, and the vampires don’t do that?”

  Oz shook his head.

  “The vampires are big in sex work: prostitution, porn, BDSM clubs and so on,” he said. “They’re also invested in some unsavory practices that they use succubi in: blackmail, slave trading, things like that.”

  “So, apparently, it’s a good thing you found me,” Isabel said, feeling a trickle of fear down her spine.

  “The bigger issue is that the vampires are amassing an army,” Oz explained. “There are all kinds of paranormal and supernatural creatures on this planet, and the vampires are trying to get as many of them as possible on their side.”

  “And the angels aren’t?”

  Oz half-shrugged.

  “We’re a bit more passive in our recruitment,” he said. “We don’t feed on humans, vampires do.”

  “And feeding on humans is relevant because?”

  “Because the ultimate goal that the vampires have is war,” Oz said. “They want to essentially bring the non-supernatural community under the collective rule of themselves and a few other creatures that exist.”

  “And succubi are part of that?”

  Oz nodded.

  “They play an instrumental role,” he said. “After all, the ability to control men’s minds comes in pretty handy for waging war against them, doesn’t it?” Isabel shuddered. She hadn’t fully enjoyed even the little taste of mind control she’d had earlier in the day. The thought of that ability being used as a weapon gave her chills. “There’s basically been a cold war between angels and vampires for centuries. Angels want the supernatural world to stay quiet and hidden. Vampires want to come out and have the right to feed on whomever they want to, whenever they want to.”

  “And because of that, I’m in danger,” Isabel said, making it not quite a question.

  “They’ll want to recruit you,” Oz said. “If not willingly, then by force. From what we’ve been able to determine, they starve succubi to make them compliant, and then only give them the opportunity to feed if they agree to do what they’re told.”

  “So, my mind control doesn’t work on vampires, I take it,” Isabel said grimly.

  “It’s not as strong, because they have similar abilities,” Oz said. “Angels are also partially immune. And if they starve you, your ability to control minds will weaken.”

  “Clearly, I need to avoid vampires,” Isabel said.

  “To that point, I want you to stay in my house,” Oz told her. “I’ll support you financially – there’s no need for you to keep your current job, or even find a new one.”

  “You must be pretty well off to just suggest taking me in like that,” Isabel said, looking at him skeptically.

  “I have about ten billion dollars,” Oz said smiling. “It’s not difficult to accumulate wealth when you’re immortal.”

  “That makes sense,” Isabel said. She fidgeted, looking at the man she had first considered a one-night stand. He was an angel. And now I can’t tell anyone the story about that night, Isabel thought, almost bitterly. I’ll be off the grid until ... well … “How long would I have to stay with you?”

  “Until this matter is resolved,” Oz said firmly. “Until you’re not in danger anymore.”

  Chapter Seven

  The house that Oz brought Isabel to looked – at first – like a standard mini-mansion, with a landscaped yard, and a modestly sizeable home on it behind wrought iron fencing. But as Oz pulled up onto the circular driveway, Isabel realized that it was something like an illusion; the house was grander, larger, more ornate than she had thought from the street. “How did you pull that off?”

  “A little this, a little that,” Oz said, matter-of-factly. “There’s some illusion magic along the perimeter of the grounds to keep people who haven’t been brought here directly from even knowing it’s here.”

  “Magic is real?” Oz smiled.

  “Magic is real, vampires are real, angels are real,” he said. “There’s a whole wide supernatural world out there, Isabel.”

  “And now I’m a member of it,” she said wryly.

  “Yes, you are,” Oz told her. He parked the car and shut the engine off, and Isabel thought that if she had to be on veritable house arrest for the foreseeable future, she at least had a big, expansive house to be confined to.

  She climbed out of the car and followed Oz towards the front door. It was painted red, a deep, bold shade that seemed almost to glow, and the frame was coated in something that Isabel couldn’t quite identify, that gave it a slightly shiny finish. The front yard, hemmed in by the wrought-iron fence, was perfectly manicured, with lushly growing garden beds.

  Oz unlocked and opened the door as Isabel followed him into the house, blinking in amazement. She had been torn between belief and disbelief when Oz had told her that he was a billionaire; but the marble floors, vaulted ceilings, and the subtle gleam of gold leaf along the molding above set her firmly in the “belief” camp. “Come on, Isabel, let me show you your room,” he said.

  The whole situation was bizarre; Isabel looked around as she followed Oz through the house, thinking to herself that if anyone ever told her that it had happened to them, she would think they were not just lying, but insane. I’m a succubus, she thought. I’m going to have to make sure I have sex with someone every night or I’ll ‘starve’…. no matter how much food I eat. Vampires exist…. Angels exist, but they’re not like angels from the bible. Her mind spun in circles, trying to make sense of the situation.

  “Here,” Oz said. He opened a door to a room that was almost half the size of Isabel’s entire home. Looking in, she could see doorways leading into a bathroom and presumably a closet, along with a big, wide bed that dominated the room, a dresser and a vanity with a low bench in front of it. She spotted a flat screen TV, and some kind of terminal – it was turned off at the moment – that had the Wi-Fi symbol on it.

  “Not a bad prison, all things considered,” Isabel said, stepping through the door. Oz had given her enough time to grab a small suitcase of clothes,
and when she had started to pack makeup in her luggage, he’d snorted and pointed out that as a succubus, there would be no —need for makeup ever again.

  “It’s not a prison,” Oz said, his voice firm. “I don’t think you understand the urgency in this, Isabel.”

  “I would be able to understand the urgency in this if I could believe half of what happened,” Isabel said. “I’m still trying to figure out how to make sense of becoming a succubus, and you being a literal, real angel, and the fact that I apparently had sex with a vampire. Oh, and that’s just the beginning of the bombs you dropped on me today.”

  “If nothing else,” Oz said, starting to lighten a bit, “you know that while you’re here, you’ll be able to keep yourself from starving.”