It was amazing and terrifying. I had summoned an incubus with no effort, but I wasn't sure what to do with him now that he was here. His eyes were unnerving, especially his snake-like pupils. He looked like a horror movie brought to life, a nervous one.
His eyes flicked constantly from one thing to another and there were times when his eyes would go dead and his head would jerk around animalistically, like he could see things I couldn't. The thought scared me, but he didn't seem worried and that, for some odd reason, comforted me. If I had to choose a way to describe him, it would be metallic. He was smooth and beautifully sharp at the same time. His body could be described as imperfectly gorgeous, muscles rippling beneath his skin with every shift, tightening his skin and then pulling it to an almost unrealistic sharpness.
He had a cautious edge to his movements that made him seem almost fake, but his warm scent and darting eyes brought him back to the real world and seemed to staple him back in place in the room. He was constantly smiling and shying away from me, like he had a secret, and it made me curious about him. We watched each other shuffle through the kitchen, he seemed oddly comfortable with the space already.
I finished up the cooking, though he hadn't done a bad job to start with, feeling a bit protective of my kitchen. I scraped out a couple of plates of food and offered him one, he accepted the plate with a rueful smile and picked quietly at it. He looked odd, the way he held his plate from the bottom with one hand, balancing it on careful fingertips, and nudged the food around on the plate occasionally taking a bite of it and chewing for too long, like it was too bitter to swallow a mouthful.
I was the one that broke the silence again.
"So... How's it taste?"
His shoulders tensed and he swallowed, keeping his eyes down. He hesitated too long and I realized he didn't want to answer.
"It's okay, if you don't want it. You don't have to eat it to be polite."
The muscles of his jaw pulled the skin of his throat taut and his eyes flicked around anxiously.
"Hey.." I pressed slightly, then hesitated when he looked up again.
He blinked, it should have been completely insignificant, but I flinched. He flinched at almost the same time and then looked away.
"What's wrong?" I asked a bit nervous.
He let out a breath and a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a snarl. I stepped back and watched him, more than a little uneasy.
"I-I.." His face was getting adorably red and he kept glancing back to me, some part of me at least. "I can't taste it..."
My train of thought slammed into his mountain of a response and I stared at him for a moment.
"You.. can't taste it..?"
He cleared his throat and set the plate behind him, drawing my attention to the end of his tail, curling and twitching like a cat's.
"It's more that to me it doesn't have flavor," He explained, something reluctant in the tone of his voice and the tilt of his shoulders. "How people have different preferences in food. I just don't like any of it.. It all tastes like ash and dirt."
It occurred to me instantly and the question popped out of my mouth before he had the chance to continue what he was saying.
"How do you know what anything tastes like if there's no flavor?"
He became incredibly pensive suddenly and looked up at me, his eyes holding a sadness that his smile couldn't wipe away.
"It's.. complicated. So," He took a long enough breath for me to interrupt him again.
"What's complicated about it?"
He looked away again, refusing to answer, so I changed the subject.
"What do you do? You know, like for money. Do you need money? You still have to eat right? Where do you live?"
His shoulders gave a helpless twitch, that I could only assume was his attempt at a shrug.
"I work... Odd jobs mostly. Fixing random things, teaching people things like playing instruments or cooking, sometimes teaching them other languages.. I do what I can, and what I have to." His voice steadily got softer and quieter, I could see him trying to imagine a way to steer the conversation.
"Still, where do you live?" I pressed curiously.
"On earth."
"You really don't have a place to stay?"
"I always have a place to stay, it just isn't usually in the same place every night. What about you? What do you do?" His voice was frigid and his eyes were locked on the floor in front of him, he didn't give a shit what I did he just wanted me to stop prying into his life.
"I'm a waitress and I work part-time at the local library."
"Where do you wait?" His voice was suddenly different again, calmer, instantaneous sainthood. His eyes flicked over my body and then to my eyes before rolling away as he half closed them.
"A diner here in town."
"Which one?" He persisted, shooting me another look, that I could barely see through his tousled black hair and long eyelashes. Translated into an action it would've ripped my clothes off and got me pregnant, but he stayed where he was.
"Whitney's on twelfth."
He seemed to genuinely consider the location of my work, nodding slowly, and looked directly at me, his cheeks turning pink again.
"What made you want to read about demons?" His voice was curious, but his eyes were still tying my stomach in knots and I couldn't help but look him over again.
He was so perfectly sexy, flat stomach with the suggestion of a rippling set of abs underneath, his shoulders rounded and smoothly contouring into his biceps, the soft lines on his arms hinting that the slightest flex would reveal a muscle hard enough to break rock. His hair was a gorgeous mess with two shining spikes for horns curving out of the crown of his head. Only now did I notice how human he looked, but at the same time he looked too good to be real. Almost like an actor with amazing make-up and special effects.
"I didn't really seek out the book, I just kinda found it.." It wasn't a lie, it was on the second floor of the library sitting on a cushioned bench pushed underneath a window. It had no indication of being a library book, but there was no one around and when I asked Tammy at the front desk she said I was the only one who had been upstairs recently. I checked around with a few other staff members and they said it had been sitting there for a few days already and whoever owned the book probably didn't want it.
I watched his face shift to an unreadable expression and then his features fell into a smile that must have stopped the hearts of girls around the world, I admit mine faltered a bit as I tried to return his smile.
"At the library." He said calmly, and for an instant I had no idea why he'd said it. His eyes glittered and he started across the kitchen again. Say something. I couldn't force words out as his fingertips brushed against my jaw and he leaned towards me, he smelled good in a weird way. His skin was warm and his eyes began to look more natural as he closed them.
Then, our lips met and he lifted me effortlessly onto the counter. One of his hands found its way under my shirt and the other held the back of my head, protecting me from slamming my head against the cabinets. One of my hands was on his shoulder, tracing the lines of his flexing body. He seemed to know it too, his shoulder moved into my hand and dropped slightly as my other hand pressed against his chest. Just hard enough to feel how hard he could push back. His lips parted and I felt his tongue rasp against my lips, asking for permission, how cute.
He pressed closer and, before I knew how they got there, his hands were on my hips pulling me into him. Then, I felt something slither into the waist of my night pants and reached down to stop him, too late. His breath huffed into my ear as he twisted away from the kiss. His shoulders tensed, his body curling slightly as I felt something push past my underwear and into me. Everything suddenly became clearer and then blurrier, it was like I was seeing through more than just my own eyes, different patterns of blankets, wallpapers, and ceilings seemed to layer over each other as he pulled me closer and moaned softly against my skin. His fingers tangling, gripping, and tensely releasing my hair as I felt whatever it was move inside me.
I could hear other voices and noises, bed frames and background noise from cities, moans and groans, pulsing music that the motion of his body kept rhythm to, screams and the sensation of hands on my body all over.
It twisted and knotted itself and he forced it deeper. I let out a squeak and the curve of his mouth told me he was laughing, but I couldn't hear him. My hands where in his hair and clawing the back of his neck, electricity and warmth swelled up and burst.
As if someone flicked a switch, everything went back to the way it was supposed to be. Except he was leaning against me, leaned against the cabinets, kissing my bare shoulder, my shirt discarded in the middle of the kitchen floor along with my night pants. Then, he moved away and I saw his tail curl behind him, something on the end of it making it shiny. I suddenly felt heavy and my eyes wouldn't stay open.
His arms wrapped around me and I felt him close to me, all over. My heart pounded against my ribs and then I was surrounded by warmth. A blanket cocoon folding me up like a caterpillar, his presence lingered in the air, and the next morning I was a butterfly. Spreading my arms into cool air that smelled like breakfast, eggs, toast, peppermint and tea, a bite of strong coffee, pancakes, and something meaty.
He walked into my room, who he was I wasn't entirely certain. His soft blue eyes and dark hair looked strangely familiar, maybe it was the shape of them or the way his eyebrows came together when he met my eyes.
"Good morning, Cadence," His voice was painfully familiar, deep and comfortable, the way he said Cadence was adorable, mostly because he looked down and smiled as he said it, like it was his own little secret.
