The Incubus Song

STORY EXCERPT

“You were really something out there.”

A soft voice caused Dante to whip around in surprise. He could’ve sworn he was alone when he entered the room. A man around his own age, midtwenties at most, leaned against the wall which led into a small bathroom at the back of the room with the ease of a man who was used to being in places where he wasn’t supposed to be but not giving a damn about the forbidden. He wore a pair of ripped blue jeans that had chains hanging off the back like suspenders, which was typical of the crowd Ricochet Romance tended to attract. The pants were tight enough to show off his thickly muscled thighs, and a tight black T-shirt advertised his sculpted torso and the band Black Light Burns. He was an alternative fan all right. His body was tight enough that Dante’s gave a visceral response despite the fact that he’d snuck up on him so easily.

The corner of the man’s mouth quirked up into a slight smile. His lips were luscious, full, absolutely made for kissing. A straight patrician’s nose balanced a face which was almost too beautiful. His features were perfectly proportioned, his cheeks smooth, his eyebrows perfectly manicured. But it was his eyes that caused Dante’s mouth to fill with saliva. Unearthly blue seemed to mimic fire-encased ice. Without a doubt he was the most beautiful man Dante had ever seen—but why was he here?

The stranger smirked. “You know it’s supposedly rude to stare.” The man’s voice was filled with warmth and amusement as he spoke. “Though if you’re the one staring, I don’t think I mind.”

“What are you doing in here?” Dante asked. He shook his head to try to clear off the fog of lust which seemed to smother intelligent thought. He took an involuntary step in the stranger’s direction. What the hell was going on?

The man continued to smile. “I came to see you, Dante.”

Dante shivered as the man’s voice wound its way around his cock.

“Oh, uh, yeah?” Dante stuttered. What is wrong with me? He wasn’t normally so tongue-tied around a hot guy. Dante knew he was good looking and had never before had issues with feeling so awkward.

“Oh, yes.” The man pushed off the wall and approached him with a slinky sway of his hips. He stuck out his hand in greeting. “I’m Eroc.”

“Air-rock? That’s an interesting name,” Dante murmured.

He took the hand offered to him, and it was like he’d stuck it into a light socket. Electric tingles of awareness shot up his arm, down his body, and came to rest at the base of his cock. Jesus. He snatched back his hand and rubbed it absently on his leather pants.

“What can I do for you, Eroc?” he asked.

Eroc stepped into his space, coming close enough so that his cinnamon-and-cloves scent teased Dante’s nostrils.

“I want you to give me your soul,” Eroc whispered with a teasing smile. He leaned up until their lips almost touched.

Is this some sort of joke? “My soul?” he asked with an uneasy chuckle. Maybe this was some sort of joke. Maybe this guy was a groupie who was taking a weird, off-beat, humorous approach to getting into bed with him. That was it. He decided. With the way the guy was throwing off sexual energy, there was no other explanation.

“What are you going to give me for it?” Dante asked.

He let his eyes fill with lust as Eroc licked his bottom lip. He wouldn’t mind a roll in the hay with this sexy groupie. He took another long look up and down Eroc’s lean frame. He had condoms in his wallet, which was in his other pants if the man was game. Though it was unusual that he took a groupie home, this one was hot enough to make an exception.

“Well, I’m going to give you your every wicked fantasy for as long as you can stand it,” Eroc purred. “If you want anything specific, you need to tell me now so we can add the terms to the list.”

“How about you stay with me as my sex slave until I’m famous?” Dante returned. If this guy was a groupie, then he could take this as far as he wanted. After all, they both knew this was just about sex. In fact, he was flattered that such a sexy man had followed him back to his dressing room. He’d never had that happen before. Eroc regarded him with a serious expression for a moment before nodding hesitantly.

“All right.” He gave Dante a saucy grin. “I’ll be your sex slave until you sign a contract with a major record label, just so we’re clear on what defines ‘famous.’ Okay?”

“Sure thing,” Dante growled. He couldn’t wait to get this sexy groupie under him.

“Excellent.” Eroc smiled. “Shall we?” he asked, opening the top button of Dante’s leathers with deft fingers.

What a weird guy. He mentally shrugged. This was one of the perks of being a musician, apparently. He watched in fascination as Eroc fell gracefully to his knees. He didn’t want to question his good fortune, but—Dante swallowed hard—was he really going to do this?

 

ADULT EXCERPT

 

“Your hands are magic,” Dante noted. “They’re designed to be pleasurable?”

“Yes,” Eroc whispered.

“So how much better will it feel to fuck you?”

“Do it and find out,” Eroc said.

The challenge caused Dante to grin. “Stand up and strip for me,” he commanded.

Eroc raised an eyebrow at him and stood. The human really was taking the fact Eroc was his “sex slave” seriously. The game wasn’t unfamiliar, but to have Dante stick so close to their roles was something new. Usually his assignments were pretty unimaginative. Dante was already proving himself to be unpredictable, and damn if Eroc didn’t find the quality intriguing.

Slowly he drew his tank top over his head and let it fall from his nerveless fingers. He was shaking in anticipation and nervousness. I feel like a virgin on his first fuck. He pulled off his leather arm cuffs, sweatbands, belt, and let them all fall down to clink softly against the thin carpet. He watched Dante’s eyes darken as he noted the dragon tattoo that snaked from its place above his heart down his abdomen and disappeared under the edge of his pants. It was something he and his sister had gotten on a stint in Japan fifty years ago. The design had become pretty mainstream nowadays, but then it had been the markings of someone who lived on the edge, the place Eroc loved to be. He reached up to take off the collar around his throat.

“Leave it,” Dante commanded.

Eroc let his hand drop from the buckle on his throat and shivered. He bent from the waist to undo the laces on his boots so he could toe them off one by one. Finally he reached the button on his cargo pants. He was panting like he’d run a marathon.

With excruciating slowness, he undid the zipper and pushed them down his hips. He wore black boxer briefs which hugged his ass and hard length.

“All of it,” Dante demanded.

That sexy growl caused Eroc’s nipples to harden and his cock to twitch in answer. Eroc pushed his boxers down his hips and kicked them across the room. At last he was naked.

“God, you are beautiful,” Dante murmured. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched as Eroc took two steps toward the bed. “Wait,” he said suddenly. “There are condoms and lube in the top drawer of the dresser.”

Eroc was shaking in desire. “I’ll grab the lube. Condoms are unnecessary. I don’t carry diseases, and I can’t catch any.”

“I’ve never done skin to skin,” Dante said with a shiver of his own. The idea of taking Eroc with nothing between them but desire seemed to really turn him on.

Eroc opened the drawer and quickly retrieved the slick. He poured a good dollop onto two fingers on his right hand and used the other to spread the cheeks of his ass.

“W–what are you doing?” Dante asked. Had no one played like this with him? It seemed like such a waste. Dante was made to be kinky. That slight tremor in the human’s voice was probably due to Eroc’s intoxicating touch. Dante’s reaction wasn’t atypical, but the way he handled it certainly was. The spell Eroc was weaving over him was overwhelming, and he knew it. His power to overwhelm wasn’t something he used on all of his victims, but he was pulling out all the stops for Dante.

“I’m lubing myself up for you, sexy. I’m going to fuck my tight ass with my fingers so it’s ready to take your hard cock,” Eroc purred. Without ceremony, he plunged those fingers into his ass as promised and groaned as he worked them in and out of his body for Dante’s viewing pleasure.

“Oh fuck.” Dante echoed his groan. Oh yeah. Someone hasn’t had his lovers perform for him before.

Eroc planned on making this one of the sexiest sights Dante had ever seen. Eroc rocked his hips back as if he was chasing the fingers that were plunging and withdrawing from his tight hole. He let out another moan of desire and screwed his fingers in a little deeper. The position was awkward for someone inexperienced, but Eroc was used to being on display. He’d always been an unapologetic slut muffin. Being an Incubus was the perfect excuse for his appetite. His gaze went to Dante, and he swallowed hard. The beautiful man was a pleasure to perform for.

“Fuck that. I’ll get you ready. Get over here, Eroc. Now.” Dante barked the order. It made Eroc chuckle.

“I wanted to give you a good show,” Eroc said in a petulant voice. He pumped his hand once more before withdrawing it from the confines of his body. He still hadn’t touched his aching cock. The anticipation and tension built.

“I want some audience participation,” Dante joked, motioning toward his own hard arousal.

Eroc grinned and crawled onto the edge of the bed. “As you command, Master.”

He paused to kiss the instep of Dante’s foot. The singer shivered under the onslaught of sensual kisses he placed along his legs and thighs. Eroc gave one lingering lick on the weeping head of Dante’s erection before continuing up his torso.

The glinting rings of Dante’s pierced nipples presented Eroc with a fascinating plaything. First he flicked the hoops lightly with his fingertips, causing the nubs to harden instantly. Dante’s gasp made Eroc want to do it again. This time he pinched both of them at the same time, twisting them gently. Eroc knew every touch by his hands was amplified a hundred times more than a human’s. He leaned down and took one of those sexy rings into his mouth, playing with the bits of flesh and metal with his tongue. He’d never had a client with such fascinating adornments. He switched to the other nipple, nipping it lightly with his teeth. It amazed him how the metal warmed from the ministrations of his mouth.

“Ride me,” Dante said. “I want to see you above me.”

 

The Incubus Lesson

STORY EXCERPT

“Congratulations, douche bag. You’re dead,” a cheerful voice exclaimed. Remy blinked, realizing that he was upright and in a room that he wasn’t familiar with. “You always were a gambler. Tsk tsk. That gamble certainly didn’t pay off for you.” A violet-haired guy with starch white wings sat behind a massive black marble desk going through piles of manila folders. The entire room was done in the black-and-white color scheme. White walls, no art work, white bookshelves, black windows, black carpet. No doors. Weird.

“Huh?” he asked stupidly. His mind felt like it was coated in dryer lint. “What happened? Where the hell am I? Is this a hospital?” Why he would’ve needed a hospital was beyond him. As a Wolfen, his kind healed extraordinarily quickly and couldn’t be killed by much less than drowning, cutting out the heart, hacking off the head, or burning to ashes.

“This is not a hospital. In fact, this is the waiting room in Gehenna. The big guys haven’t decided where they’re throwing your ass yet, so you’re stuck with me, your representation in the heavens, until such time as they declare you officially dead and send you up or down.” The violet-haired angel smirked. “Though, I have a pretty good idea with your exploits which direction you’re going to be headed. Let me see.” He took off a manila folder from the top of the pile that had a little red tab on it. “Public drunkenness, cheating, disregard for other people’s emotions, disregard for your own emotions, repression of your own soul, destruction of innocence, the list goes on and on. Surprisingly little by the way of lust considering your, er, sexual conquests.” He shut the folder. “Pretty open and shut case from what I understand. You absolutely failed your soul test with your ex-boyfriend, whatever his name was. Chalk you up as another statistic for the dark side.”

Remy shook his head, still not processing. “Wait. What the hell are you saying? Representation in the heavens? Gehenna? What the hell is going on?” He was starting to get annoyed now. He did not like to be out of the loop, and he felt really, really out of the damn loop.

“Okay, he’s not as smart as he looks, folks,” the violet-haired guy muttered to the ceiling. He pointed to himself. “I am an angel. Your angel as matter of fact, not your guardian, that was some other guy, but an angel nonetheless. I am the angel that gets to argue in divine court for the right of your soul to go to the heavens. Every person has a divine match, one angel and one demon who has a perfect match for your soul. I’m your angel, and your demon is the guy on the other side of the argument. Consider me your lawyer appointed by the court. You slept through your trial, so they sent you here, to my office, to wait while they deliberate.” He thrummed through some papers on his desk and started scribbling on another piece of paper. “You, Remy, are dead. D-E-A-D. The higher ups are at this very moment arguing over whether to send you to heaven or hell.” He held up the paper showing a stick figure with little x’s for eyes.

Ice washed through his veins. “What the hell? How did this happen? They only knocked me on the head! Was it a robbery? How the hell am I dead?” He sounded hysterical, but he really couldn’t help himself. After all, it wasn’t every day that someone told him he was dead.

“The blow to the back of the head didn’t kill you. Unfortunately, the guys who robbed you dumped your unconscious body in the Mississippi after they took your wallet. Your body didn’t have enough time to heal before you drowned.” The angel did look at least mildly sympathetic then. “The beginning of your file really did show potential.” He shook his head. “It’s a shame you had to die so young. You were still classified as redeemable.”

Remy’s heart started to pound in a sickly rhythm. He needed to sit down. Immediately a seat appeared behind him, and he sank into the plush white couch gratefully. He also needed a drink. Preferably scotch. A glass appeared on the corner of the angel’s desk. He wasted no time in snatching it up and draining every last drop. Given enough time, he would’ve licked the bottom of the glass. It was a pleasant burn all the way down to his stomach.

“I had so much left to do.” He’d told himself a thousand times that he was going to turn his life around. He was going to stop the whoring and the drinking and the deliberate pain he caused. But he’d always put it off. Now it was too late. “I didn’t want to die an asshole.” He didn’t know where the last came from, but he meant it nonetheless.

“No one ever does, mate,” the angel said. Remy jumped as a phone started ringing. The angel sighed. “That will be the bosses. Can’t keep them waiting.” He turned his head to reveal a Bluetooth attached to his ear. “Hello? Oh hey, boss.” A pause. “Yeah, I figured as much. Yep.” He paused again. Frowned. “Really? One of theirs vouched for him? You don’t say. Well, that’s great news. Okay, I’ll ask him. Um-hmm. Call you right back. Bye.”

“Well, what’s the verdict?” Remy asked. He was shaking all over, unable to sit still. The anticipation more than anything was fucking killing him.

The angel offered him a smile that reminded Remy of a used cars salesman for some reason. “It was good news actually.”

“I get to go to heaven?” Remy asked. His heart soared. Someone had actually seen something in him worth sending to heaven for? He was going to kiss God’s toes.

“Not exactly.”

 

ADULT EXCERPT

 

Deacon took three strides toward him and grabbed his hips, bringing their bodies flush together. “Yeah. I know. And you wouldn’t let me explain.”

“I was angry.”

“Was?” Deacon asked, grinding his now-raging erection against Remy’s jean-clad cock.

Remy groaned. “Yeah. I’ve cooled off a little since then.”

“I love you,” Deacon said, hugging him tightly. It just slipped out as if the words were as light as they made him feel. Light flashed, filling the room.

Remy shuddered in his arms, and Deacon tilted his head up into a kiss. “What have you done?” Remy whispered as their lips met.

Deacon let his eyes slide shut as his immortality left him. The flux of energy changed the light in the house from its natural form to a dull, rusty red. Their tongues touched, fought, danced. His heart swelled as the admission took up a physical rhythm in his chest. He felt weak as a kitten, but still he continued to kiss him. Remy’s hands dug into his shoulders, and for the first time, Deacon felt how strong he was. The Wolfen’s strength may have been nothing to him as an Incubus, but it was strikingly powerful in comparison to a human’s.

“I love you,” he said again, breaking their touch for the briefest of instances to say what he’d been holding back.

“I love you, too, Deacon. I didn’t think you would ever say it. What’s the light about?” Remy asked. He claimed his lips for another kiss, unwilling to tell him the extent of what he’d done.

This was usually the part where Dominic was summoned to deliver the news of freedom and administer a test to determine the worthiness of the pairing. He’d receive no summons. Deacon had already made other deals.

He ripped the clothing from his lover, uncaring of anything but having him one last time. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against his lips. “I’m sorry that I betrayed your trust.”

“As long as you love me, none of that matters,” Remy said, clinging to him. “I don’t care how we started so long as you care now.”

“I do.” He pressed kisses down his lover’s neck and chest, nibbling the nipples that were already pebbled for his attention before popping the button on Remy’s jeans and freeing the hard cock that was pressed against him the moment before.

Without preamble, Deacon sucked the thick head into his mouth. He groaned at the taste, reveling in the sweet and salty liquid that decorated the tip. He bobbed his head several times, and Remy cried out with each downward plunge. He must not have realized the change yet because he didn’t notice that his blow job wasn’t as magical as it had been when Deacon had been an Incubus.

“God, Deacon! I love you,” Remy gasped as Deacon nibbled the tip of his lover’s cock. The red light slowly faded as the magic completed itself. Deacon was mortal. This would be the first time he would make love as a human man. “Deacon, not gonna last. Stop. I want you inside.”

Those were the words he’d been longing to hear. He tore at his own shirt, trying to get out of the thing without the benefit of them melting away in a display of magic.

“Lemme help,” Remy rumbled, kneeling on the floor in front of him and taking the two ends his shirt in his hands. The sound of rending fabric lit the air as Remy tore it off of him. His pants suffered the same fate, and then they were rolling along the floor, kissing and touching all the exposed skin with no restraint.

“Lube?” Remy asked. Deacon snapped his fingers only to curse himself for his stupidity. He didn’t have the power to pull things through the walk between worlds anymore.

“It’s the bedroom. I’ll get it.” Deacon rolled to his feet and took off toward the stairs. He was going to have to start keeping spare bottles around the house. He nearly stumbled on the stair as he realized that after today he wouldn’t need to have anything anywhere. He wouldn’t live here anymore. It made everything that much more bittersweet.

He retrieved the slick and ran back down to the living room where Remy was lounging on the couch, idly stroking his cock. “Took you long enough. I want to ride you. You mind?”

“Not at all.” Deacon went to his knees on the soft rug before going to his back and popping the lid on the tube. He put a good amount on his own cock and tossed the rest to Remy. “Get yourself ready. I want you now.”

Remy did as he commanded, slicking his fingers before pressing them into his tight ring, stretching his entrance to prepare himself for Deacon’s cock.

“Do you forgive me, Remy?” Deacon asked, watching him as he did as Deacon asked. “Do you forgive me for taking your life away?”

Remy winked at him, his smile strained with lust. “Yeah. I forgive you. You’ll have to make it up to me though.”

“I will. I promise.”

Remy groaned and pulled his fingers free. “I’m ready. I can’t wait anymore.” He straddled his hips and lowered himself on Deacon’s waiting prick. The beautiful man above him had become his world, and Deacon was awed by him. This was the man he loved. The transition to mortality seemed to make even the beauty of the world more intense, sharper somehow.

His mind blanked as his cock was surrounded by his lover’s heat.