by Winter Fox
I couldn’t help myself. “You think you’re a sex demon? That’s how you justify this shit in your head?”
“How do you explain that fire which is currently burning in your belly, slave? You should hate me for what I’ve done. In fact, you do hate me. But you still want me, don’t you?” He wasn’t gloating, simply stating fact.
“What have you done to me?” I whispered.
“Incubi need sex to survive. If we don’t regularly take women, then we die. We will all die eventually. But, not for a very long time if we feed our bodies often, and well. Every time we have sex, we procure an essence from the woman we are using; which then repairs the breakdown in our demon auras.”
I raised my eyebrows. “The woman you are using? Really?”
He didn’t seem offended. “You are food for my soul, eighty-eight. That’s the natural order of things.”
I snorted laughter. “You do realize that you aren’t a demon, don’t you? A psychopath, maybe. But, you’re not a demon, because demons aren’t real.”
His lip twitched. “Ahh, you humans insist on disbelieving in monsters, or the supernatural. Yet, you can lay claim to some of the worst monsters ever to walk this earth. I really don’t get it.”
I dropped my head into my hands. If my situation here wasn’t so thoroughly terrifying, I would be laughing right now. I was trapped in a house with a woman who thought she was a witch, and a rapist who though he was a sex demon.
“You people are crazy,” I groaned from behind my hands.
I jumped at the touch of his hand over mine. He peeled my fingers gently back from my face. Because he had discarded his chair, and was instead was crouched down in front of me, I had no choice but to stare into his ice-chip eyes. Even just the touch of his fingers against mine made the flame inside me burn hotter.
Could he really be?
“After eighty-seven other women—all of whom bowed under my touch—how are you the only one who can make me lose control of myself?” He whispered.
I stared at him with wide, worried eyes. If he really believed I was different, he might kill me. “I don’t know.”
“You feel it. I know you do,” he insisted, leaning forward, and closing the distance between us.
I started to pull away from him, but his hand shot forward; grabbing the back of my neck and pulling my mouth closer to his.
I wanted to kiss him. Fuck, I wanted to kiss him more than I wanted to live right now. It was as though a part of my soul was screaming for him, and his own was responding in kind.
His eyes swam with the same lust from earlier. It was the only emotion I had seen so far in those cold, blue depths.
Just as he was about to press his mouth to my needy lips, he suddenly growled, and pushed me away. He stood up quickly to pace the room frantically, running his fingers through his thick, dark hair.
I felt the sting of rejection, and I wanted to slap myself for being so stupid. I should hate this man, and here I was heartbroken because he hadn’t kissed me.
I was a fucking mess.
“How do you do that?” He demanded.
“I’m not doing anything,” I cried.
“You’re trying to seduce me.”
I howled in laughter. “I am so not trying to seduce you. I fucking hate you.”
He stopped pacing, and stared down at me. “It doesn’t really matter anyway, slave. In a few weeks—or months at the most—your training will be complete, and you will be sent on to your new owner.”
His words were like a punch to my stomach. What would happen to me after him? After Adonis.
“What happens to me once I’ve been trained?” I asked quietly.
He seemed to have sobered a little. He fixed me with a dispassionate stare as he replied.
“You will be sent to an incubi brothel, and used by the patrons to alleviate their hunger.”
I stood up, scowling. “So, I’m going to be sent to a whorehouse, and raped over and over again by different men?”
He shrugged. “Yes.”
This hadn’t started out as a fairytale, so I shouldn’t have expected a happy ever after. But, his simple acknowledgment of my bleak future devastated me.
“I don’t know how you live with yourself,” I murmured.
His gaze softened ever so slightly. “Because if I don’t do this, then I’ll die, slave.”
Something suddenly occurred to me. “You said before that you extract an essence from the woman that you’re using.”
He looked wary, but nodded.
“Let’s say that you really are a sex demon. What happens to the women when you steal their essence?”
“Their aura dies, piece by piece.”
“And that will eventually kill them?” My morbid curiosity had taken over now.
“It will,” he confided.
“So, in your warped version of reality. You’re going to hand me over to a bunch of incubuses—”
“Incubi,” he corrected.
I waved my hand dismissively. “Whatever. And these demons are going to keep using me for my essence until my aura is gone, and I die.”
“That’s the general idea, yes.” He almost looked as though he felt guilty.
“You are seriously fucked up if you believe this story, and you would still do this to eighty-seven women.”
“Eighty-eight,” he corrected.
Rage burned inside me. I was still stinging from his earlier rejection, and I was terrified of where I was going to be sent to next. My mind was also torn between disbelief, and a fear that what Adonis was telling me, was in fact true.
“I think I’d like to go back to my room now,” I whispered.
He crossed the room without speaking, and hooked my discarded g-string off the floor with a finger. He came back to stand in front of me, and offered me the garment on the end his extended digit.
I took the scanty material, and stepped back into the pants. I felt ever so slightly less naked in them.
He reached out, taking my chin in his hand, and gripping it firmly.
“Don’t mistake my honesty, with kindness or weakness, eighty-eight. You don’t get to tell me when we’re done, and you don’t get any more free passes for your insolence.”
I opened my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but he silenced me with a painful squeeze of his hand.
“The next time I come to you, you will be dressed appropriately, kneeling in “nadu” and you will submit to my every command. If you don’t, then you will not enjoy the consequences. Do you understand?”
I glared at him in silence for a full minute before I replied.
“Yes, master,” I said miserably.
His mouth didn’t twitch this time. “Good. Now, you may return to your room.”
Chapter Ten
Adonis
After he had taken eighty-eight back to her room—Adonis made his way to his office. This was his favorite room in the entire house. Three of the walls were covered from floor to ceiling in books, and the fourth wall was all window; overlooking the exquisite gardens outside.
He sat down behind his desk, in a tall leather chair, and steepled his fingers in the same way that his father had done. Only he pressed his full lips against the tips of his unified index fingers.
“Daisy Harper,” he murmured into the silence of the room. “What are we doing to each other?”
Relaxing himself back into the chair, Adonis ran his tongue over his lips, and savored the sweet flavor of her. Her scent lingered on him like expensive perfume.
When an incubus “fed” through sex, it was as though they cast a spell over their victim. She would feel an attraction to him that could not be explained, or ignored. When Adonis wanted a woman to give herself to him, she would. Without question.
Until now.
Eighty-eight refused him half of the time, and came at him like a tigress the other half. He had no idea how she could break out from under his thrall, but she did. That was technically impossible.
But the thing that disturbed him the most, was the way she made him feel. She could turn the tables on him so fast that he wouldn’t even realize she’d done it. Women were not supposed to be able to seduce an incubus, but he was pretty sure Daisy had almost nailed him a few times already.
If he wasn’t such an experienced trainer, with so many successful women under his belt; he would have been afraid of her.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he announced to the empty room.
He opened a drawer, and took out a bottle of expensive whiskey, and a tumbler. Pouring a large shot of the amber liquid, he took a swift drink and tried to understand what had happened with eighty-eight.
Adonis knew a little about the physiology of seduction by an incubus. A woman would feel a fire ignite in her belly, and wouldn’t be able to extinguish the burn of desire no matter how hard she tried. She would feel an overwhelming attraction to her incubus, and every nerve in her body would cry out to be fucked by him.
When that fire had started burning low in his own belly earlier on, he had been shocked beyond belief. It was as though she had taken hold of his abilities, and somehow turned them into a weapon to be used against him.
Even so, he knew that he was getting under her skin too.
He smiled as he remembered her compliance when he kissed and licked at her wet pussy. His smile broadened as his cock sprang up hard at the memory.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get another shot tomorrow,” he promised himself.
Knocking back the last of the whiskey, Adonis picked up his cell, and called Emma.
“Yes sir?”
“I want you to spend time with the acquisition. I want you to get her to trust you.” He topped up his glass as he spoke.
“Yes sir.” Emma was a very compliant little witch.
“I also want you to tell her everything about us.”
There was a silence for a moment.
“Everything, sir? Including the auctions?”
The auctions were usually only revealed to the acquisitions after they were secured in their new home, and only then because it was tough to keep the rumor-mill quiet, once the girls were all living together.
“Including the auctions,” Adonis confirmed gruffly.
“Okay. Is there anything else, sir?” He knew Emma couldn’t wait to get off the phone.
Witches hated incubi with a passion, and had done for centuries. A millennium ago—when the world was simpler, the witches had raised an army, and battled to kill every single incubus. Although they had hunted Adonis’ kind to the brink of extinction; the incubi had eventually fought back, and when they did, they decimated the witches.
Instead of killing their vanquished enemies, the incubi had decided to tether the witches to them for eternity. So, now every newborn witch was bound by a blood curse to serve the incubi, for their whole life long. It was the ultimate insult to the group of women who were often thought of as the original feminists.
“Just one more thing,” he said.
She waited in silence.
“I want you to check her aura, every day, twice a day.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And I want you to report back any change in her aura, no matter how big or small. No matter if it dims, or if it grows brighter. Understand?”
She was quiet for long enough that he wondered if she hadn’t already lied to him about eighty-eight.
Eventually she grudgingly replied, “Yes, sir.”
Without another word, he hung up on her.
He frowned at his empty glass, as though someone else had stolen into his office, and drained it dry. Shrugging, Adonis poured his third glass of whiskey, and sat back to ponder eighty-eight’s future training regime.
Tomorrow, he was going to turn up the heat.
Chapter Eleven
Daisy
I had been so exhausted—both mentally, and physically—by the time I got back to my room, that I had climbed into the oversized four-post bed, and fallen asleep instantly. I was grateful for the enveloping blackness which stopped any nightmares from tormenting me while I slept.
When I woke in the morning, it took a few seconds before I realized where I was. Once I did, the events of the last twenty-four hours crashed down over me; sending me spiraling into despair. For the first time—since I’d woken up in my prison cell—my determination wavered.
I can’t survive this.
A tap at the door called my attention. I guessed it would be Emma. Adonis wouldn’t knock.
“Come in.”
When the door opened, and Emma stepped into the room carrying a tray of fruit, croissants and coffee, my interest was piqued. The smell of the coffee hit my nostrils, and I slipped off the bed to grab the cup greedily.
“So, you’re a caffeine fan, huh?” Emma smiled.
I returned to the bed, perching on the edge of the mattress. Shrugging, I took a long gulp of the bitter liquid. “I need something to keep me alert.”
She fired me a concerned stare, which told me that she understood my implied meaning completely.
“Daisy, if you try to escape, he will catch you, and he will kill you.” She sat down on the chair by the vanity as she spoke.
I laughed bitterly. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to die soon anyway, Emma. I’m not sure how, or when really matters that much.”
“What makes you think that you’re going to die?” She asked softly.
“He told me,” I snapped.
“Daisy, can I check your aura again please?”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you still going with this auras, and crystals crap?”
Emma looked crestfallen. “It’s true.”
My eyes narrowed. “Did you know that Adonis thinks he’s an incubus?”
“Daisy, he is an incubus. That’s what I was trying to tell you. That’s why I need to check your aura after your encounters with him.”
Emma stood up as she spoke; crossing the room to stand in front of me. She held her hand out tentatively, silently asking permission to touch me.
I held my arm out to her defeatedly, and she laid her palm gently against my skin. I felt the same heat as I had when she put her hands on me yesterday. I had to admit, I couldn’t explain the strange feeling I got when she touched me.
You can’t explain the strange feeling you get when “he” touches you, either, my treacherous mind whispered.
Emma’s eyes grew wider as her hand pressed against my arm. Shaking her head in apparent disbelief, she lifted her hand from my arm; but quickly replaced it with her other palm.
“What’s the verdict, doc?” My mood had improved with my caffeine hit.
“How are you doing this, Daisy,” she whispered.
I pulled my arm away from her, and snapped at her. “Emma, we’ve been through this. I don’t believe your bullshit aura stories.”
Emma sat down on the bed next to me, clasping her hands together on her lap. “Did Adonis tell you what happens to your aura when he feeds on you?”
“Yep,” I replied in a bored tone.
“Did he tell you that you will be used by hundreds of different incubi when he signs you off from your training? And that they will take from you until you have nothing left to give?”
Fiction or not, it wasn’t a very pleasant thing to hear out loud. I looked at my toes, and nodded silently.
Emma shifted on the bed until she was facing me. I pulled my gaze from my toes to look at her pretty face, where I saw a war of indecision raging. She was trying to decide whether or not to tell me something more.
“What is it, Emma?” I said, not unkindly.
My encouragement gave her the prompt she needed. “He didn’t tell you about the auctions. Did he?”
Whatever the “auctions” were, I knew I wasn’t going to like it. “No, he didn’t. What are they?”
Emma took a deep breath before she began. “Okay. So, the reason the incubi use us witches to check your aura, is because they want to take as much as possible from each girl i
n their brothels before they auction her off. We can tell them exactly how much of your aura is gone just by touching you, like I did just now. That means that they can take you to the brink, without pushing you over the edge, into death.”
I couldn’t believe I was playing along with the fantasy. “I don’t understand. Why would they auction off a woman who was completely used up? That makes no sense.”
“Incubi need to breed to keep their species in existence. There were once two ways in which they could do that. Firstly, they could mate with a succubus—a female demon of sex. But the last succubus died over a thousand years ago.” Emma looked uncomfortable as she related this fact.
I was pretty sure I understood where this story was going. I asked the question anyway. “What’s the other way?”
Emma’s face darkened. “An incubus, and a human woman can have a child together if the incubus wills it. He must let all of his defenses down completely at the point of ejaculation in order to impregnate her. Apparently, it is the most mind-blowing sex an incubus or a human can ever have.”
“Then why do they only auction women off, once they’re used up? Why don’t they get the girls in these brothels pregnant more often, if it feels that good?”
“Because an incubus child will kill its human mother during birth. That was why succubi were always preferential mates, they were strong enough to carry a demon child to term, and survive.”
I was destined to die in childbirth, just like my mother.
“So, how does my aura look right now?” I decided we needed a change of topic.
Emma’s eyes darted to the door before she responded in a confidential tone. “Your aura is brighter than it was when you arrived, Daisy. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were feeding on Adonis; instead of the other way around.”
“Good maybe it’ll kill him,” I said thoughtfully. It was getting easier and easier to let myself be drawn into these crazy conversations about incubi, succubi, and witches.
Perhaps I’m going mad.
