by Temple Hogan
She was hurtling through space, an immeasurable place and time where life was suspended and only pleasure so intense as to be almost painful filled her awareness. Part of her wanted to deny it, to hold it at bay, to make it last until eternity, but part of her feared she might die from the intensity of her need to ride this whirlwind to the end. The peacefulness of her existence was destroyed by the clamoring of her need. Bells rang in her head, discordant and yet part of the finale. She was dying, and one last part of her thought to shout out as if the very sound would keep her anchored to earth. The sound of a shout awoke her, or maybe it was a ringing of the bell again.
She started and opened her eyes, taking in the muted shadows of her bedroom. It had been a dream, or had it? Everything had seemed so real, with an intensity she couldn’t have imagined. Her body still pulsed with its climax. It couldn’t have been a dream. The Incubus had claimed her in the night just as her sisters had arranged. Perhaps they had been right, she thought, remembering the depth of her responses.
Beyond the windows, streaks of sunlight tried to penetrate the heavy curtains. She snuffled in some air and wiped her hand across her mouth. Ugh! Dried drool! Somewhere in the distance the bell rang again, not just once but several times in a staccato of sound that demanded attention. Woozily, she threw back the covers and sat up, looking down at herself. She was wearing pajamas. She didn’t remember putting them on. The doorbell rang again, several times in a row.
She would simply murder who stood outside on her porch, she decided. She was a witch, she could cover up the deed by zapping the body to some foreign country, and if she did get caught, she’d simply explain how the bell kept ringing and the judge would understand and put the culprit in jail where he belonged, if he weren’t already dead!
By this time, she’d found one shoe, which would have to do because if she heard that bell ring one more time, she’d go mad. She made her way down the hallway to the door, threw it open and growled at the dark shape that was even now aiming his finger at the door bell.
“Don’t touch that bell again, or I’ll turn you into a toad,” she growled with a ferocity she hadn’t known she possessed, but to let go of some of her animosity at this ungodly hour of the morning felt good. She might do more of it.
She swiped a hand through her tumbled hair, removing it from her eyes and glared at the man standing before her. The Incubus had returned! He stood relaxed, an expectant look on his face.
Had she really forgotten how tall he was, how broad his shoulders were? About the bulge in his trouser and what he could do with what lay there? His amused grin and the dark-brown eyes sparkling with laughter showed not one whit of remorse. He was a demon, indeed, and he’d had his way with her.
“Good, you’re not dead,” he said.
“Go away!” she said shrilly. “Go away and never come back here. I don’t care what my sisters tell you.”
“I’m here to fix your sink,” he said.
“Of course you are,” she said sarcastically.
“I’m sorry I came so early and woke you up. I’ll just complete the job and be out of your hair.”
“Haven’t you done enough? You’ve had your way with me so go back to wherever devil demons like you go.”
“Hey, don’t be mad at me. I was just doing my job.”
“Don’t even talk to me about it,” Sera said, pushing her way out on the porch. “I know what you did. Go tell my sisters that you were successful. I’m no longer a virgin, so now they can leave me alone.”
“I…don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, looking at her oddly.
Sera made a skeptical face. “Your job here is done. Isn’t that plain enough? You’ve done what you were supposed to do, deflower the virgin, give her a taste of what she’s been missing. Mission accomplished.”
She paused and stared at the older woman standing on the sidewalk listening. Gwen Shepherd was the neighborhood gossip and a thoroughly disagreeable woman. God alone knew what kind of interpretation she was putting on this scene. Even Sera’s next-door neighbor Jane Prescott had paused in watering her flowerbed and stood with the hose hanging limply in her hand like a spent cock while she stared with outright curiosity at Sera and her caller.
“Get in here,” Sera said, taking hold of Jack’s shirtfront and yanking him inside. He stumbled but managed to catch himself by throwing his arms around her.
“Let go of me,” she snapped, shaking herself loose from his clutch.
“Sorry,” he said, righting himself. “It’s just I lost my balance.”
“Right!” She drawled out the word the way the teen kids did to show she didn’t believe him.
“It’s true,” he said defensively. “One minute you’re telling me to go, and the next you’re yanking me inside. Miss Spencer, excuse me for saying so, but I think you’re nuts.”
“I’m nuts?” she nearly shouted at him. “I come home to find a complete stranger in my kitchen, then you take me to bed and make love to me—no, I take that back, you fucked me as per my sisters’ instructions, and then you have the nerve to come back this morning.”
“Whoa, back up, lady,” he said, holding out one hand. “You’ve got this wrong. I didn’t make love to you. I didn’t even fuck you, although you made it pretty clear you wanted me to.”
“I never!”
“Yeah, you practically begged me.” His eyes were snapping with anger and something more.
“First of all, if I were inclined to make love with you or any other man, I wouldn’t beg. I wouldn’t have to.”
“Well, that’s true enough,” he conceded, “but you sure wanted to do it last night and with me. Good thing for you I’m an honorable guy.”
“Ha!” Sera snorted through her nose and glared at him. “Then if you’re so pure and noble tell why—you took off my clothes and put me in these pajamas.”
“Oh, that.” He straightened. “You came home really snockered, and I helped you into your bedroom, where you made a pass at me, then passed out. You looked so uncomfortable, so I put your pajamas on you and tucked you into bed.” He grinned with a look that said he clearly expected an apology and praise for his good deed.
Sera clenched her fists on her hips and glared at him. Her anger ebbed somewhat, and she found herself noticing too many things about him, like the early-morning smell of a man who’s showered, brushed his teeth, shaved and slapped on aftershave. That bold masculine scent, which seemed to be an integral part of him, filled her senses.
“I don’t believe you,” she said. “Before you dressed me in my pajamas, you made love to me—no, you fucked me, plain and simple. Do you think I’m a fool?”
“I think you’re delusional,” he said in a quiet voice, but his eyes sparkled with temper. “Are you angry because I didn’t fuck you and you wanted me to?”
His words left her speechless. She drew herself up, intending to wilt him with her scathing comments, but no words came. She did the only thing left for a lady in such circumstances. She drew back her hand and slapped him across his cheek.
She was stunned by the swiftness of his response. He caught her hands and pushed them behind her back, forcing her against him. She could feel the hardness of his chest against her breasts and was suddenly aware that there was nothing between their bare flesh but her thin cotton pajama top and his equally thin T-shirt. The heat of his body seared her nipples.
She gasped and fought against him, but his hold was too forceful and her struggles only increased the friction against her nipples. Still, she twisted until common sense told her he was far too strong for her.
She slumped against him, breathing heavily and became aware of his hot breath against her cheek and lips. Her gaze met his, and she saw something primal and male. She opened her mouth to make a nasty comment but didn’t utter it, captivated by the flare of hunger in his eyes. Lust, virginal and totally undeniable, completely unawakened until now made her catch her breath, so she returned his gaze with an equal fervor.
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br /> His mouth was millimeters from hers. She licked her lips in anticipation before his mouth settled on hers. The hands he’d captured behind her back, he now raised over her head, pinning her to the wall. His light clasp was more effective than if he’d held her captive, still she swayed against him and gave herself over to the sensations that claimed her body. Jack’s kiss was like nothing she’d ever experienced or ever would again, she was certain. There had been no kisses in her memories of their encounter before, but now he gave her mouth thorough attention. His kisses ratcheted up her heat level until she feared she might spontaneously combust.
Hot! Devastating, exhilarating, arousing! Her body tingled all over. Her crotch was dewed with desire.
He deepened the kiss, placing his hands on her buttocks and pulling her closer, so she felt the hard bulge of his arousal. She mewed and melted against him, clinging to him to stay afloat, for surely, she was awash in some great sea of sexual desire, and she thought dazedly that she might drown. Then again, did it matter as long as he continued to kiss her like this? She was drunk with passion.
He drew back and looked at her.
“Lady, you pack a punch,” he said breathlessly.
She felt his hot breath on her cheek again and shivered with desire. “My bedroom is that way,” was all she could think to say.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked. “I don’t want to be accused of raping you again.”
“Fuck me, now,” she demanded and was surprised at how guttural her voice was.
If he didn’t do as she said right now, she’d use every witchy power she had to make him her slave. He must have sensed her need, of course he did—he was an Incubus. He’d deliberately aroused that passion. Now he was going to take full advantage of it. Well, let him. She’d unknowingly given up her virginity to Jack during the night. There was nothing to stop her now.
He scooped her up in his arms and carried her down the hall to her bedroom. Kicking the door closed behind him, he dropped her on the bed and started stripping down. She was a little disappointed. If she’d had her druthers, she would have liked to have slowly undressed him herself, like they did in romance novels, but as he threw aside his shirt, revealing his well-muscled shoulders and tight abs, she relaxed and enjoyed the show.
When he unsnapped his jeans and slid them down his slim hips and thighs and she saw his cock pop out, long and sleek and utterly beautiful, she sat up and drew in her breath. She had a sudden thought that she couldn’t handle that throbbing muscle, but then she remembered, he’d already had her and she only remembered pleasure from the encounter.
She smiled with what she hoped was a seductive invitation and ripped open her pajama top. With buttons popping everywhere, she shrugged off the top and threw it to the floor, then lifted her hips and pushed off the bottoms.
Jack’s laugh was a lesson in seduction. Her bones were melting. She reached for him, pulling him down to her.
“Whoa, slow down,” he murmured. “I want to make this first time nice for both of us.”
“It was, now I just want you to hurry.”
“You are one weird lady,” he said, putting a knee on the bed and reaching for her. There was no fumbling as she might have imagined. Jack was an experienced lover. He pushed her legs high and wide and planted a kiss on her calf.
“Don’t you want any foreplay or anything?” he asked, hesitating.
“You’re doing fine,” she muttered in exasperation. Her body was on fire, and she could think of only one thing to put out the flame. Didn’t they write a song about that?
Jack chuckled and brushed the hair back from her face. “You’re a very beautiful woman, you know?”
“I’m a very impatient woman,” she said and wriggled her hips, so his cock was poised just at her slit.
He kissed her again, and she felt his body shiver, then he pushed inside her. Her muscles wrapped around him, throbbing with a pagan celebration that closed her into a world she’d never entered before, at least, not when she was awake. She felt herself opening to him, her heart and mind soaring with these new sensations, then a searing pain made her sharply draw in her breath.
Jack went still, neither pushing forward or withdrawing. Then he cursed long and loud and withdrew.
“What the hell kind of game are you playing?” he shouted.
Chapter Four
“What do you mean?” she asked, sitting up.
“You’re a virgin!”
“No, I’m not. You and I… Last night.” She stared at him.
“Not last night. Not any time at all,” he said.
“I…I thought you did.” She didn’t believe him, but this was not the time to call him out. She was on fire, and she wanted him to quench the flames now!
Jack reached for his pants and drew them on, shaking his head. “Lady, you are way beyond anything I’ve ever encountered before. I don’t know what to do about you.”
“Easy,” she said impatiently. “Just fuck me, and everything will be all right.”
“You’re a god-damned virgin,” he said, snapping his jeans and glaring at her.
“Well, some men might think that was a good thing,” she pointed out.
“I’m not ‘some men’,” he growled. “I have certain rules in my life. No virgins, no married women, no girlfriends of my best friends… No virgins.”
“You said that,” she answered, shoulders sagging while she thought about what had happened.
He was a very unusual Incubus, if he was one. Of course, he was one, despite his denials otherwise. That brought her to the question of his claims not to have taken her before. He was an Incubus and would know how to pleasure her without deflowering her, wouldn’t he? She determined she would google Incubi and see what was up, but for now, she had to deal with his supposed outrage. He was already stalking toward the door, his shoes in his hands.
“I’m not a virgin,” she said and with a blink of her eyes, stripped his trousers down around his ankles.
He sprawled across the floor, his shoes flying out of his hands. Cursing, he yanked at his jeans. She got off the bed and went to stand over him.
“I’m not a virgin,” she repeated, hands on her hips.
“The hell you’re not,” he growled and tried to stand up, but his jeans tripped him again, well, with just a little help from her. He slumped against the floor, shaking his head in disgust or denial. She wasn’t sure which.
Sera made no move to get out of his way. “I would think it wouldn’t matter anyway to an Incubus.”
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped and this time managed to get to his feet.
“All right, to a man of your experience,” she amended. “Don’t you know that women have many ways of proving themselves virgins over and over again? I thought that was important to a man, so I was just trying to please you.”
He halted in retrieving a shoe and stared at her, his brows drawn in straight lines over his eyes, which now held a suggestion of interest, more than interest. He was as randy as she was.
“But you said your sisters wanted someone to take your vir—” He paused as if unable to say the word. “I thought you were just kidding, now…” He shrugged.
“My sisters like to think of me as their innocent little pet who has never been deflowered. I let them think that’s true since it makes them feel superior.”
He stood looking at her indecisively, as if measuring the truth of what she said.
“You can do that?” he asked doubtfully and waved his hand vaguely. “Make yourself a virgin?”
“No, but I made you believe it.” She grinned at him. “I’m not only a woman, I’m a witch and I can do anything.”
He shook his head. “You really have a thing about Incubi and witches,” he said.
She smoothed a hand down along his lean jaw. “Don’t you?” she asked then drew back. “Oh, you’re not an Incubus.”
“Do you want me to be?” he asked, dropping the shoe he’d retrieved and giving h
er a smoldering look. “I’m a man, and I can do many things as well. Would you like to see?”
Sera caught her breath and laughed again, dodging away when he reached for her. She had something to do before she went to him. After all, didn’t a virgin shed a little blood when their cherry was popped? Without glancing down at herself, she snapped her fingers and knew any vestige of her ripped maidenhead had been erased. With a secretive smile, she went into his arms willingly. He kissed her, tentatively at first, then with more passion.
“You’re sure you’re not a virgin?” he asked softly between kisses.
“Not for a long time,” she murmured, willing to play the game with him.
She shivered with anticipation. The good thing about her role as an experienced lover was she didn’t have to deny the wonderful new feelings he’d awakened in her. In fact, her new persona called for her to be an absolute wanton.
A glimmering reminder of what she’d tried so hard to be in life came to her, virtuous, moral, normal, but maybe normal women did let go of their emotions and fully participate in their sexual exchanges with the opposite sex. No, this wasn’t normal, he was an Incubus and he’d cast a spell over her. That’s why she was like a hound in heat. And given that he was an Incubus, he had to have known she was a virgin when he took her the first time and was now playing some Incubus game with her. She thought about sending him away. That would pay him back, because the bulge in his jeans was huge and he rubbed against her with an urgency that plainly showed his desire.
“Are you sure you’re not an Incubus?” she prodded.
“I can be if that’s what you want,” he said huskily and kissed her again, thrusting his tongue between her teeth so a red-hot passion flared as if there’d been no misunderstanding.
Well, it hadn’t been a misunderstanding on his part, and now she completely understood the game. If she were going to continue with this, she had to pretend to be an experienced lover. She was a witch and an inspired woman. She could do it.
She tried to remember the impossible positions of the Kama Sutra when she’d googled it. The names of those positions didn’t come to her at the moment, but the expression of the woman in the drawings had shown the pleasure she’d clearly derived, so they couldn’t be painful. She smiled at Jack and took his hand, leading him back to the bed.
