How to Kill an Incubus: A Rae Erickson Story (9 page)

I had never tied anyone up but I’d watched a hell of a lot of movies and—considering the fact that I wouldn’t let Andrei use his demon magic to tie himself up—I guessed I had been watching pretty closely.

The single high-backed wooden chair I had in my bedroom was dwarfed by Andrei’s sheer size. I’d bought it at an antique store while roaming the lesser known
rues
of Paris. It was ancient, stately-looking despite having no armrests, and completely out of place in my modernized bedroom.

I stood back from Andrei, admiring my handiwork. Thick, industrial rope bound his denim-clad legs to the chunky wooden legs of the chair, as well as tied his hands behind the back of it. He was naked from the waist up, his upper chest had a smattering of dark hair that peppered down his stomach and into the waist of his jeans.

“Why are you letting me do this?” I questioned—when really, I was wondering why I wanted to hurt him, and why the prospect made me wet in my innermost nook.

Andrei looked up at me, his gaze dark. “Because I want you to.”

He didn’t have to explain. The jut of his erection in his pants said more than enough.

“But you’ll heal, right?”

“Do you want me to?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t.”

I ran my tongue across my upper lip. “If you want to, you can get out of the rope?”

He gave me a wry smile. “In the blink of an eye.”

I considered this. “Well, don’t. This will be so therapeutic for me.” Taking a deep breath, I slipped on the knuckle duster Andrei had so graciously provided for me. It felt soothing, iron on skin, and I folded my hand into a fist, testing the weight out first.

“What are you waiting for?” Andrei goaded, his eyes flashing a dark red.

Exactly.
What was I waiting for?
I knew I was going to enjoy this, knew I was going to be hitting my mother, Temp, Vitaly, and every other demon I’d come across and done shit to – when I hit him. This was going to be more than healing. It was going to save my sanity.

“This is for breaking into my hotel room,” I said to myself, and I delivered the first blow to his cheek, the sound of metal hitting bone filling my ears.

Andrei’s head jerked to the side but he made no noise. Blood instantly ran, red and brilliant, from his flesh that made contact with my fist. I winced, although I knew that I probably didn’t hurt him at all. And true to his word, he didn’t allow himself to heal.

“Feel better?” he coolly inquired, the masculine perfection of his face marred by the bleeding gash.

“Not yet.” And I struck him again, the sickening crunch of his nose sending goosebumps of intense pleasure up my spine. “That… Well, that’s for giving it to me so good.”

Blood was spurting from his nose in a steady, brilliant flow, splotches of it spattering onto his bare chest, bright red on russet. I sucked in a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut. It was so twisted how… aroused I was from hitting him, from drawing blood—his blood. It made him seem so human to me, vulnerable. And it made me feel a delicious power that was so strong, I sensed it in my throbbing clit.

I was a sick and depraved human being. My conscience told me to stop but the anger I felt at myself for being so attracted to him, among other things, propelled me to land another venom-filled punch to his face—his jaw this time.

“And that’s for calling me a bitch,” I spat, and his face crinkled into a weird, pained half-smile. “A stupid bitch. No one calls me a stupid bitch, asshole. What the hell are you grinning about?”

Andrei tilted his head and spat blood out onto my carpet. “I am going to… fuck your brains out.” His voice sounded husky, probably on account of his possibly broken nose and equally busted chin.

I hit him again, splitting his lower lip. “That’s for tying me up in my own home that one time. I don’t get treated like that. I’m a woman.”

“You’re only making me hard.”

I socked him in the gut and he tensed in surprise, barely doubling over. “That’s for ruining my life. My life is ruined, Andrei.” I flexed my hand, throwing him a death stare. “If my father were still alive, he’d disown me. You’re a demon. You’re evil.” I reached out and lightly pressed a finger to the wound on the side of his face. “You’re a demon,” I repeated, wanting this to sink into my thick skull.

More than anything, I was scared. Scared that something this unnatural could feel so good, especially this fast. Scared that his grip on me was more than sexual attraction but something deeper, something I could never hope to understand. I was scared shitless of becoming Lauren.

I unbuckled his belt and unzipped him, letting his cock spring free. Sinking to my knees between the V of his long legs, I looked up into his blood-spattered face. “Under no circumstances do you get loose.” And I curled my fingers around his rigid shaft, moving my hand up and down the swollen flesh, entranced by its thickness, and stiffness. “I hate owing people.”

The tip of his cock was glistening and I rubbed the pad of my finger over it, lowering my tongue to catch the tiny, transparent bead of moisture that had already seeped out of the tiny hole on the head. As always, he tasted of hot, animal masculinity. I licked the throbbing veins of his shaft and I sucked on him, wanting to draw out more of his seed. This was the first time I’d ever put him in my mouth and the salty taste of him was indescribable.

Andrei made a low groan in his throat, his breathing becoming ragged. My fingers moved to weigh the heavy sac of his balls, feeling them tighten in my hand as I gently stroked them. The product of his arousal was in there, just waiting to spatter into my mouth and finally, inside my cunt.

“Fuck, Rae,” Andrei breathed out, jerking his hips. “Suck me dry… with that little mouth… of yours.”

I took as much of his curved length into said little mouth as I could, my own desire swirling in the pit of my belly and making it difficult to focus. Andrei jerked into me, ravaging my mouth and growling when my teeth lightly grazed his girth. My cheeks hollowed and my strokes quickened in determination to make him explode in my mouth.

When he finally did, roaring in a language that was foreign to me, I swallowed his cum, raising my head to look at him when I was done. His face was astonishingly blood-and-gash free and I figured he couldn’t help healing if he was in the throes of passion. I stood up and pulled my T-shirt off—the motion was torture for my painful, pebbled nipples—and tugged my pants down, stepping out of them completely naked.

I moved to sit astride Andrei, my hands on his shoulders, and slowly lowered myself onto his manhood. A sharp moan left my lips as my aroused opening welcomed the entrance of his slick hardness. Holding onto him, I lifted myself off his cock and lowered myself again, purring contentedly as he filled me. He thrust upward and my nails dug into his bare skin as I bucked against him, wanting him deeper.

Somewhere along the line, the rope came undone—or disappeared, and his hands greedily tormented my skin as he held onto me. Our mouths connected—mine greedy, his tantalizingly domineering—and we came in unison, my cries of pleasure filling the night and drowning out his animal-like, guttural moans.

For a long while after, we sat like that and then he picked me up and lay me on the carpet, semi-hard inside me.

“Feel better?” he asked, slanting his mouth to capture the hard tip of my breast.

I mewed, spearing my fingers into his now unruly hair. He was twisting my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger and an oh-so-sweet pain ricocheted through my breast when he pulled, elongating the hardened nub.

“No,” I gasped, feeling him move inside me.

His cock was coming to life again and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to take it another time.

“Fucking listen to… me,” he growled.

Even as my mouth protested, my body gave silent acquiescence, wet and throbbing and oh-so-ready for him. I allowed him to kiss me again, our lips brushing briefly before his tongue flickered inside, mimicking the slow, lazy strokes of his cock.

My hands were in the silk of his long, unruly hair, gathering it to me, and my hips bucked, meeting his every searching thrust as desire overwhelmed me. He took my hand in his, lowering it to the jigsaw puzzle of our groins.

“Feel us,” he groaned into my neck, and my hand came between us to the place where we met… felt the moistened length of his cock as he gradually retreated… felt the dripping heat of my pussy as it gratefully received him again.

I whimpered, arching my back, completely surrendering to Andrei’s dominance over my body this time. His strokes quickened, became more frantic as he drove even deeper inside me, nudging my womb. He bit down into my neck as a long, violent orgasm overtook him and the feel of him emptying himself in hot, thick spurts pushed me to yet another earth-shattering climax. Tightening my core around him, I came, blinded by the almost painful ecstasy and quivering in the aftershocks.

Andrei rolled me over so that I was on top and our hot, sweaty bodies remained conjoined. I heard his heart beat beneath my ear—so normal, so human. Yet why did that make me hate what he was doing to me even more?

“Tell me about yourself,” I asked, secure in his embrace not for the first time.

“Rae…” he started, ready to shut me down.

I raised my head, looking down into his cerulean eyes. “Every time I want to know more about you, about your kind, you disappear, bite my head off, or distract me with sex.”

He was doing it right now, his hands slowly kneading the curve of my rear.

“I have the right to ask.”

He swept a long wisp of hair out of his face with annoyance. “Your father was a demon hunter, wasn’t he? A very unsuccessful one, of course. But didn’t he tell you these things?”

“He tried to,” I replied candidly, my hands threading his hair, “but I wasn’t interested. I like my life supernatural-free.”

“I noticed,” Andrei remarked dryly. His fingers bit into the globes of my ass and he thrust upward. I gave a sharp intake of breath. “You want to know about incubi?”

“First, I want to know about you.” I bit my bottom lip as the sensation of him circling his cock inside me sent a surge of need through my core. “Where are you from?”

“In this realm,…” He let out a low groan when I clenched my sex around him. “Romania. In the realms of the Underworld, I am lord of the incubi, demons of moral depravation. My personal Hell has no name.”

“Anghelescu is Romanian, then?”

“Yes. It means son of Anghel, angel.” His lips curved into a devious smile. “I have a dry sense of humor.”

“I… don’t know what to say. Is this your… real form?”

He gave me a pointed look that told me all I needed to know. “This is my mortal form. My true form… Well, let’s just say I’d fit right into a Stephen King horror novel.”

I swallowed, unconsciously tensing around Andrei’s cock.

“You want to make me come again?” he said gruffly, his eyes clouding over.

“Andrei, why are you here?” I asked. “I don’t mean here with me. I mean here… on Earth.”

“To feed,” was his immediate response. “To harvest more individuals like your mother. To take souls.” He grimaced when he saw the expression on my face. “Eventually, that’s what it all boils down to, Rae. What did you think we were here for, to host the Oscars?”

My father had said something about his type of demon, how they’d brought the destruction of many races—the Mayans, the Incas, and the Sodomites of Sodom and Gomorrah—with their intense hunger for sexual energy. Immoral acts—especially between married men or women and incubi—had often driven many to suicide. But then, if one’s soul wasn’t all that pure, it really didn’t take much to be seduced by a demon.

“Am I morally depraved?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Is that what you see when you look at me? Is that why you like fucking me?”

Andrei’s eyes briefly turned red. “Nobody’s perfect.” He flipped me over, keeping his upper body off mine. “Your essence, Rae, is filled with pent-up rage. You give off a heat—a passionate heat—that burns me when I’m inside you. There’s sadness, there’s guilt and there’s a flicker of vulnerability, too.” He brushed his hair out his face. “That anger, it rivals mine. And it feels so fucking good when I consume it.”

I gulped, embarrassed to feel tears prickling my eyes. So much of what he’d said was true—I was angry about the way my life had turned out. I spoke from experience when I said that money couldn’t buy happiness. Why couldn’t my father have been a regular nine-to-five guy? Why couldn’t I have lived in blissful ignorance, unaware that supernatural creatures walked this earth? Why couldn’t my mother have stuck around to raise me? To teach me what heartbreak really was? Why couldn’t I have two very alive parents, instead of a dead one and a dubiously living one?

And I was angry at Andrei, for tempting me to the dark side, for awakening a primal hunger inside me for something more carnal, more dangerous than sex with a human. There were still so many things I wanted to know, like why I couldn’t be seduced by an incubus when the average human could be. But I was tired and I was quickly coming down from my high.

Andrei placed a tender kiss on my forehead before withdrawing from me. I felt his exit painfully and a gaping void where he used to be. I allowed him to effortlessly scoop me up into his arms and carry me to my bed.