Author's Note: This starts out with a bang-pardon the pun-but then settles into a bit more storytelling as it progresses. While there is some sex, the rest of the story sets the tone for what is to cum.
*
Recovering from Lilith's energetic attention took me far longer than I expected. My body shook wildly for the better part of an hour after my Mistress teased my sex. Unsurprisingly, Rollo chased off my human audience and stationed himself beside me until I could once again walk unaided.
"Thank you," I gasped at him as I dropped back down on the closest couch.
"I didn't expect the Mistress to visit," the half-demon observed thoughtfully. "Though you didn't seem to mind."
I snorted.
"Can you get me some clothes? Business appropriate. I still need to attempt a negotiation with our friend Adam," I said as I pushed myself off the couch. Negotiate wasn't exactly the right term, considering the club owner was firmly bound in all his naked glory. Still, I wanted to keep the exchange professional. One must maintain standards, especially when creating long-term, binding agreements.
Suddenly restless, I paced the room before finally ending up in front of the bar. "Our Mistress seems to have a keen interest in this place," I said as I poured myself a strong dirty martini. I waved an empty glass towards Rollo, who shook his head. All right, more for me then.
The half-demon walked up behind me, the off-putting stench of worry oozing from his pores. He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently before he spoke.
"I fear for your safety, Eisheth," he admitted quietly. "Something's not right."
I frowned. My companion was most assuredly correct, though I certainly couldn't tell him that. Lilith's command had been clear. Do the job. Stay loyal to her. As much as I loved him, Rollo technically belonged to Shehazau. Could I trust him? The half-demon answered first to the Nephilim, not me. He could be the enemy, spying on me and, by proxy, Lilith. Rollo would never want to harm me, but Shehazau was a powerful and manipulative higher power--should he give the command, my half-demon friend would kill me in a heartbeat. I would have to proceed with the utmost of caution.
Slipping out of the office and away from Rollo's smothering attention, I draped myself over the railing and stared down at the busy floor below me. Men reached for women who only pretended to be interested, at least until the money ran out. The entire place reeked of desperation and loneliness, among other less pleasant things. As it stood, The Pink Cat could have been a haven for the cruelties of psychic vampires, those who feed deeply on the suffering of mortals. A few slipped through the crowd, slowly draining the energy from unsuspecting men, and women. That crowd normally clung to the shadows of more secluded places, hiding from demons and humans alike. No one tolerated the vampires, not even my Mistress.
Shuddering, I focused on the main bar. Rose handled the place with ease, guiding both drunken patrons and unruly employees towards more acceptable behaviors. Even though her aura was most assuredly human, I was rather certain that she harbored some brand of siren blood in those veins. It wasn't a concern, merely a curiosity on my part. She looked the type to stay loyal once she deemed one worthy and I was certain the barkeep found me worth her time.
"That would explain why Rollo is so enamored with her," I muttered to myself as I considered her lineage.
"I'm sorry?" Tank said.
I jerked, swinging my gaze to my left side. Hell, I hadn't heard the man coming up the stairs. I hadn't even noticed that Rollo had left the office-such distraction was far too dangerous for me. Recovering quickly, I favored Tank with a smile and waved him into my office. He nodded, keeping a well wrapped package between us as he passed my robe draped body. I almost moaned aloud as I took in his musky, warm scent.
"Uh . . . Rollo asked me to bring this up for you," Tank stammered.
Of course he did.
I reached for the package, intending to turn away and head for the bathroom. For some reason, I felt shy around the human male in front of me. The sensation was peculiar and disturbing to an extent. I seduced people. Fucked them. I didn't blush around them.
A voice in my head screamed for me to get dressed. I ignored it-a habit not conducive with a long, happy demon life. Instead, I reached out for Tank's hand, pulling him closer the moment he placed his fingers in mine. I dropped the package on the wooden floor and slid my hands along his chest, not stopping until my fingers were laced together behind his thick neck. Tank's breath came in short, choppy bursts as his body reacted to my touch.
He leaned in for a kiss, and I denied him that pleasure. I wanted to see how far the man was willing to go. With a growl, he wrapped his hands firmly around my waist. Pulled me to him and leaned forward until his mouth was tickling the skin of my neck.
I moaned, as did he.
"Shall I finish what I started, precious?"
"God," he ground out. "Please, God."
I sighed, the sound coming out as a short, low laugh and pushed him backwards, not stopping until he was backed against the office door. I caught his gaze, never taking my eyes from his as I lowered myself to my knees and slowly worked open the buttons of his pants. Tank groaned and fisted his hands in my long, thick hair.
I took my time as I worked to free his straining cock. I kissed the front of his pants, enjoyed the heat scorching my lips. Tank groaned and reached for the rest of the buttons, impatient with need. I slapped his hand away and resumed my slow torture. Defeated, he let his head fall backwards against the heavy wooden door.
As he panted, I took a moment to study his body. His energy. Tank was a beautiful specimen. Not a perfect clay model of a man. No, he was so ordinary. His imperfections--the crooked nose, the slight scar running along the right side of his muscled abdomen--made him so real. Demons. Gods. They all project themselves as perfect. Muscles symmetrical. No blemishes on their tanned skin. No flaws in their gait. Tank, with his slight limp and scars, was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen.
I finally pulled his pants apart, using my hands to free his cock from his boxers. More perfection. I inhaled his scent, moaning drunkenly as I carefully slid my fingers along his shaft. Tank jerked his hips, thrusting forward to prolong the contact.
My own body pulsed and shook, begging me to impale myself on that gorgeous shaft. I waited patiently until I was calm and back in control of my wanting body. This would be a marathon, not a short, unsatisfying sprint.
Before my tongue could find its mark, Tank pulled me to my feet. Confused, I let him have his way. Again, I never let a human take control. The feeling of helplessness made my body tingle.
"I need you, Eisheth," he growled viciously.
I draped my arms around his neck and this time, I let the man pull me into a kiss. The office . . . hell, the entire world spun away as I sank into that kiss. Before I realized it, Tank had pulled me up and thrust inside me, spinning us around so that my back was firmly pressed against the door. I grunted in time with each driving, animalistic thrust. I bit his chest and finally managed to lock my ankles behind his back, locking us together in a writhing, sweating tangle of limbs and flesh. Tank swore viciously and jammed his tongue into my mouth, savoring my taste as one would a fine wine. I cried and bucked my hips, struggling to match his rhythm as he filled me time and time again.
My satisfaction from sex normally came from absorbing the energies of my partner as they climaxed. Sure, sex always felt great and the act sustained my power. But the intimacy I experienced was always for some ulterior motive. I fucked people to gain power or information. Or control. Sex for the sheer pleasure of the act, well that was something that the powers higher than me enjoyed. To the succubus, even one as highly ranked as myself, sex was a tool or a weapon. Sometimes it was a reward and other times, a punishment. We succubi influenced wars and toppled governments merely by opening our legs at the right time and with the right person--or people.
Sex with Tank was unlike anything I'd experienced.
I shook as I reached a true climax, one even more powerful than the reward I'd received only hours before from my Mistress. I cried out and fought to free myself from Tank's firm grasp as he kept thrusting himself inside me. Fire boiled between my legs, igniting my entire body with a power I'd never experienced before-a power that I couldn't even fathom. I dug my nails into his back and buried my face in his thick, sweaty chest as I fell to another painfully delightful orgasm.
