It was the cursed connection. Damn, it pulled at me with a yearning to return to him. Ugh, this was awful. I had to find some way to stop feeling like this, to stop thinking about Daron.
After a fitful night of sleep, I woke with thoughts of him still on the forefront of my brain. Although I didn’t remember my dreams, I know they included him. This was agony.
I had to put my new plan into action. If I forced myself to feed from someone else, maybe that would break this dreadful bond. I hadn’t focused on one man at Vamps. Letting my charms float from one man to the next in the trio, I didn’t put my all into the seduction. Determined to avoid longing for Daron, I visualized heading out for a successful feed.
After a long hot shower where I groomed myself for presentation, I dressed in a black and purple pinup dress with black cats prancing along the lower portion. It fit perfectly in this town. Time to see what Witch City had on the menu tonight.
I perused inside establishments as I strolled by—window shopping for a meal. Many restaurants were full of couples or families. When I spotted a lone man in his thirties nursing a drink at a bar in a restaurant, I paused. He was moderately attractive with short brown hair and average features; an average guy, suitable for my mission. Maybe he’d taste better than he looked.
After I sidled up to him and started with some small talk, he said his name was John, if that was even his real name. He was visiting the region on business. I mentioned how I was also passing through town, while lowering my eyelids and gazing up at him from under my lashes. This ancient technique was still so potent to many men. Why break what works?
“How about we go someplace more private?” I suggested.
His eyes flickered a centimeter wider. “My hotel isn’t too far from here.”
“Perfect.” This was proving even easier than I had hoped. I hadn’t even had to use any magic to encourage him to play. That was often the case with out-of-towners looking for a little entertainment for the night. I hooked my arm in his. “Lead the way, big boy.”
He wasn’t big. Not in comparison to Daron. But, men loved to hear that.
Shit, I’d already broken my rule by thinking about him. Focus. I raised my chin, preparing to battle this mental block.
Twenty minutes later, after a quick visit to the liquor store for a bottle of vodka, cranberry juice, and some snacks, we entered his hotel room. It was the standard kind found across the country—neutral colors and unobtrusive curtains and artwork. At least it had a king-sized bed, which I intended to make optimal use of when I fed tonight.
John prepared our drinks; mine with vodka and cranberry juice and his straight vodka on ice. I sat on the bed and visualized tonight’s conquest, picturing how I’d move into seducing my prey.
Daron’s image appeared before me. His scent and taste flooded my senses.
Damn it, not now. If I kept this up, I’d starve.
I squared my position, tightening my muscles as if they’d shield me. After I took a sip, I followed it up with a bigger one. When John sat beside me, I placed my hand on his thigh and gently squeezed.
He appeared to follow a moderate workout regime; enough to keep off some flab, but not enough to build much muscle tone
“Ooh, you’re so muscular,” I lied. “You must work out.”
John straightened and puffed his chest out. “I go to the gym three times a week.”
“I can tell.” Trailing my fingers higher along his thigh, I sensed his slight response as he moved toward me. I was willing to wager that he was semi erect.
After taking a gulp of my drink that almost emptied the glass, I set it on the nightstand. When I turned back to John, he’d emptied his glass. He fidgeted, making the mattress move. Nervous with excited anticipation, I assumed.
Where was mine? My senses should be firing with the thrill of the hunt, but my sexual appetite was unexpectedly lacking. Huh. That was fine. I’d fake interest until my body caught up to the fact that it was almost feeding time.
“Let me get that out of the way.” I took his glass and placed it beside mine.
Seduction. That’s all I needed to do. Easy. I’d done it too many times to count.
I stood and stepped before him, nudging myself in between his legs. “Do you want to touch me, John?” After taking one of his hands, I ran it along my side.
“Yes.” He took over and headed right to my breast. With his other hand, he cupped my ass. Typical guy going right for the fun parts.
“Good. Because I want you to touch me.” I pushed him back on the bed and straddled him. Leaning over him, my hair fell over each side, reaching his face. I tossed it over one shoulder and then bent down to kiss him. My lips brushed his. A crackling sensation ripped through me and I jumped back. It ignited a startling, recoiling response, like when someone scraped nails over a chalkboard.
What the hell was that about?
He didn’t seem to sense it and leaned up to kiss me again. When his mouth met mine, a cold shudder vibrated through my muscles, leaving them tense. My body recoiled and I pulled myself upright.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
This. Being with him. It was wrong. So wrong.
I took a deep breath and forced a smile. The saccharine falsity of it left a bitter taste in my tone. “Everything’s fine.”
Okay, I didn’t want to kiss him. We could still do other things to ensure I siphoned his energy. Lowering myself back down, I pressed my sex against his hard length, but immediately leaped off as if I’d sat in a bucket of ice.
What the fuckity-fuck?
“Are you sure?” John asked.
Daron’s image in my bed returned. He eyed me with that sensuous glimmer in his eyes that left me as hot and liquid as lava. The lower half of his hard body was hidden by the sheet, but the rest, including the luscious display of sinuous chest and carved abs stood proudly on display for my appraisal. And touch.
When we’d been together, it was nothing short of magical. The energy had been explosive. I’d never experienced anything like that before. In comparison, this encounter was as lackluster as discovering my playmate couldn’t get it up.
Only this time, my body parts were the problem. Or, was it my mind?
Did Daron send that image to me? Was it an invitation?
Fucking bastard.
I climbed off John. “Sorry. This isn’t going to work out tonight.”
He blinked and sat up. “What? Why?”
“Gotta go.” I bolted for the door.
I hurried through the hotel, not bothering to wait for the elevator, but bounded down the stairs. Once outside, I gulped in air. I smoothed my rumpled clothing. Then I searched up at the stars. Is this your doing? I silently accused them. Not that they would ever reveal their secret. With a grunt, I dismissed that idea. Nothing was written there. Those globes were merely gas. If there was anyone in charge of my destiny, it was me, damn it.
Then, why did I start walking in a particular direction?
Shit, what am I doing?
I took one slow step after another. With each tap of my foot on the pavement, I questioned my actions. Why was I doing this? Could I not control my feelings?
Gritting my teeth, I refused to look back at the stars. They’d probably pulled themselves into a smiley face, mocking at how easy it was to pull my strings.
As I approached Daron’s hotel, I didn’t care. The perfume of flowers drifted from a flower shop. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted from a café. My heart thundered with anticipation as the red brick exterior of his hotel came into view. I’d see him again soon. My incubus.
My hand trembled as I knocked on the door. “It’s me.”
When he opened the door wearing nothing more than black shorts, such immense relief washed through me, I almost lost my footing.
“Selena.” Daron sounded surprised.
I spread my arms wide. “Miss me?”
He blinked. “What are you doing here?”
I pushed his chest an
d followed him back into his room. “Like you don’t know.”
The furnishings were typical bland hotel style, but who cared? The only thing that mattered was getting him onto that king-sized bed. I led him onto it and climbed on top of him the way I had done when I’d tried to seduce John. Only this time, my body didn’t recoil. It tingled. Every muscle in me melted against him, responding to this intense, unbearable yearning. A longing to touch, to feel, to join with him. Lowering my head, I captured his mouth in a kiss I so desperately craved
It took less than two seconds for Daron to RSVP “Hell yes” to my invitation. His hands roved over my body, igniting every inch of me. He probed my mouth with his hot tongue, intensifying the kiss. Everything that had been so wrong with John blazed as holy-hell-right with Daron.
I ran my hands over his chest, running my fingers in between the hard planes. How could two different bodies invoke such a different reaction? Both were made of flesh and muscles and blood and bones. What was the attraction to Daron that penetrated so deep into my psyche?
Why question it? Now that I was with Daron, I had what I craved. Continuing my exploration of his magnificent body, I tugged at his shorts. He aided in removing that obstacle. I bit my lower lip, grasping at him with my greedy little fingers. His cock bobbed free, already erect and magnificent.
He was mine. At least for now, and I wanted to mark him as such. Kissing down his torso, I then reached the sexy V or whatever that indentation was called that led down to his stiff erection. When I licked, it twitched, and he moaned. I moved down and wrapped my fingers over his impressive shaft. A bead of liquid glistened at the top. I leaned forward and lapped it and then swallowed his salty essence.
Daron dropped his head back onto the pillow, his black hair a stark contrast against the white cotton. “Fuck that feels good, Selena.”
I circled the sensitive head with my tongue and then licked the length of him down and back up. He groaned with a primal sound of need. I mouthed the tip, bobbing my head and took more of him in. He ran his fingers through my hair like a mini head massage. As I took him deeper and sucked up and down, he gripped my head and his breath turned short and ragged.
He reached down and slid a finger inside me. “Already so wet.” His husky voice expressed approval.
While I sucked him, he worked me with his hands, slipping a finger in and out of me or circling my clit, increasing pressure. An insistent need rose inside me. He caressed me like he already knew all the secrets of my body that made me respond to his touch.
We continued this way, harder and faster. Wanton desire took over and I ground myself against his hand, my body simulating the sexual motion I craved. The intensity escalated—too strong, too overwhelming, too—
Currents of wet heat surged through me accompanied by my incoherent sounds. I paused as my orgasm took control. Once the most intense waves subsided, I resumed my attention on his shaft, moaning and sucking hard.
Daron groaned and then steadied my head. “Too fuckin’ good. I’ll explode. Let me in you.”
His voice sounded low and growly, sexy as sin. I’d listen to whatever he said in that tone and let him lead. Daron nudged me onto my back and then lay on top of me. He pushed my legs up onto his shoulders and slid inside. I grasped onto him to brace myself. In this position, every centimeter invaded me as with a pleasurable stretch. He filled me like no one ever had.
His eyes took on that feral red-gold demon glow that I was sure reflected in my own. Why bother to hide our demon sides from each other? With each other, we were free to be ourselves.
Each of his thrusts grew harder, deeper, and more powerful than the previous ones.
I clung to him and cried, “It’s too much.” But, when he slowed and pulled back, I demanded, “Don’t stop!”
Daron complied and powered back into me, resuming that fierce pace. He grabbed my hips and with one final thrust erupted inside me. The liquid burned so hot, it was almost scalding.
He gently lowered my legs and we recovered side-by-side.
After my heartbeat slowed and I caught my breath, I asked, “Did you send me those images?”
“What images?”
“One of you posed like a Playgirl model inviting me to the party under your sheets.”
Daron released such a surprised laugh that the bed shook. “No.”
I bit my lip. Did that mean I had conjured it myself? I sighed and swore under my breath. What fresh hell lay ahead for me next—a tangled web of monogamy? Time to cut this shit, pronto.
“Listen, Daron. I know I’m sending mixed messages by coming here, but this is it. Playtime is over.”
After climbing out of bed, I dressed. When I glanced at Daron, he eyed me with a curious appraisal.
“I won’t be back,” I declared.
He nodded with an expression that all but announced, “You’re full of shit.”
Maybe so. But, I would find a way to sever this connection. And then walk away for good.
Chapter Eleven
Selena
The next two days rolled by like decades. I attempted to distract myself with work, mostly with freelance gigs on designs and testing for video game companies—or escaped into video games just for fun. Yet, still, the yearning to return to Daron tormented me.
To keep myself from starving, I siphoned small bits of energy, touching humans to create a physical connection, but it didn’t stifle the yearning. These little bites were like snacks—they’d provided energy yet never quite satiated my appetite. It was how young incubi and succubi fed. We didn’t need as much as adults and weren’t sexually mature to feed in that preferred manner. But this forced diet reminded me of how delicious full meals were and my hunger intensified.
An ache to go to Daron spread from within my chest to my limbs, claiming hold of me like a prison guard. Accompanying it was a hot, feverish cloak. The more I resisted the pull to Daron, the more severe the intensity.
He felt it, too. I sensed his resistance as well. The mutual pull on each other and agony caused by the resistance exacerbated the pain. But I wouldn’t go to him. I wouldn’t! My body would not decide my fate.
Unbearable as it was, I fought the yearning. Eventually, it had to subside, right? It wouldn’t kill me. Well, it shouldn’t kill me. Only humans were foolish enough to die from things like a broken heart.
And, Daron and I weren’t in love, but in some sort of demon mating heat.
Three days after leaving him, I felt well enough to leave my place. It was time to be proactive in this situation and make some calls. After all, I was in a good city to find some magical help to deal with my ailment.
Step one was to reach out via the underground network where I’d made the booking for the safehouse. That sent me on a visit to a witch over in nearby Peabody. She couldn’t help, but then directed me to one who lived south of Boston down in Scituate. I teleported down the coast, but no luck with him either. He knew someone who might—a sorceress down in Newport who had studied demonology.
More teleporting followed. After I arrived in Rhode Island, I quickly scanned the surroundings. What a quaint, engaging city Newport was, right on the waterfront, different than that in Salem. While the colonial charm lingered along Salem’s coastline, Newport declared it had money—and lots of it. Countless white boats and yachts dotted the bay and a string of old mansions stood majestically on guard above the cliffs. Clouds from earlier rain dissipated with sunlight breaking though.
I headed inland to find the sorceress. She lived in a humbler setting—a small cottage surrounded by trees at the end of a residential road. The front of her house faced a tiny pitch of the shore accessible through a break in the trees. On one side, an abundant herbal garden flourished beside a bed of black and dark violet flowers.
The door opened and out walked a woman with a silvery blonde braid save for a long blue streak woven in. Her eyes were a much lighter blue, almost translucent, not like Daron’s bright blue.
Focus.
&
nbsp; Her yellow chiffon dress flowed around her slight frame. She appeared more like a fairy than a sorceress.
“Welcome, Selena. I’ve been told of your predicament. I’m Eloise.”
“Great to meet you, Eloise. I’m hoping you can help me.”
She motioned to a small wrought-iron table on a slate patio. “Have a seat. I’ll bring us some lemonade. I made it this morning.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
The varying scents from her garden escorted me as I walked over to the table, each vying for attention. Too many herbs and flowers for me to be able to distinguish one from the other. Soon after I sat down, Eloise emerged with two glasses of lemonade and long sprigs of mint. I glanced at the plantings and found a match.
“You have quite a garden.”
She handed me the glass. “It comes in handy for easily accessing what I need.”
I took a sip. The tart and sweet flavors blended on my tongue and the hint of mint accentuated them. “This is delicious.”
“Mint and lemon are excellent for digestion as well as treating a number of ailments. This is a fantastic detoxifying combination. Some concoctions I make for my clients can taste rather nasty. I have a feeling that may be what you’re looking for.”
I swallowed. “Do you think you can make something that would help?”
She sat back in her chair. “Let’s make sure I know what’s going on. I’d like to hear the situation in your words.”
I took a deep breath and resisted letting out a dramatic exhale. “Well, here goes. When I visited this club last week, a couple of gargoyle shifters gave me the boot, accusing me of feeding in the club, which is against one of their rules. This was surprising since I had done no such thing, but they didn’t listen. To cut the story short, I figured out why. I wasn’t the only demon there that night.”
“Like you?”
“Right. Well, he’s an incubus.”
Eloise appraised me from her pale blue eyes. “I don’t encounter too many demons, and I have never met any incubi or succubi. It’s rather fascinating.” She reached for her cup, leaned back, and watched me as she took a sip.
SCORCH: An Incubus versus Succubus Demon Romance Page 8