Demon Lovers: Succubi

by Lori Selke

  The succubus smiled in anticipation as she abandoned Elise to her dreams. She shifted from the astral back to the physical and again donned the earthly body she had manifested for this amusement. Her eyes flicked open. She felt invigorated, powerful—and her appetite sharper than before. Vivian rose from her bed in the room of sleeping women and pulled on her robe. She left on silent feet to visit her Lamont.

  Julia laid atop the covers of her bed, a casual pose artfully arranged for when Elise arrived. But would Elise come to her?

  If she felt what I did when we kissed…

  The memory put a smile on her lips and she replayed the moment in her mind’s eye. How it felt to touch her, the taste of her mouth, the softness of her skin…captivating, all of it. The mental pictures were like a dream, easily recalled and not long past, and the arousal that pulsed through her was just as real now as it had been that morning. Julia closed her eyes, the better to enjoy the images, feeling the desire they stirred in her body, delicious torment.

  Then one thought trailed into another, and soon her mind was not remembering, but dreaming. And in that dream, Elise came to her, willing and eager. She laid down beside her, and her kisses were not those of an inexperienced lover, but one confident and hot with desire for her. Julia could dream lucidly, but this was one she did not wish to change. Some part of her thought, No, I should not fall asleep, I need to be awake for when she comes, but the rest of her enjoyed the vicarious embrace of her dream-lover. When Elise’s lips moved down her neck to kiss her collarbone, and then up to nuzzle her ear, she quit thinking of staying awake and simply surrendered to the moment.

  Deepening Julia’s threshold dream state was the work of instinct for the succubus. Cleastra slipped into her mind as she slipped into her bed. She did not make her prey as somnolent as she’d left Elise—no, for this experience, Julia would move and respond to the succubus physically, like a sleepwalker whose body unerringly navigated the real world. It was not necessary for her ever to come fully awake as Cleastra had her way with her, but the thought of Julia rousing to alertness at the very end, just before her demise, was delicious. It was too piquant to think that this Lamont would, in her final moments, realize with horror what and who was stealing the vitality from her body, with her physical lust on such high tide that she would be powerless to stop it.

  Cleastra smiled and bent her head down to Julia’s lips, pressing a long, deep, passionate kiss upon them. It was in perfect synch with the dream that held the woman close. Julia’s body responded, her breath quickening, her mouth awakening to return the kiss. The succubus ran a hand down her victim’s chest, brushing her nipple into stiffness, trailing fingers and the fire of desire down ribs, down flank, to the edge of her groin. Julia moaned, her legs entwined with those of her inhuman lover.

  Cleastra gave way completely to her natural form. She let her tail snake along the side of her prey, wrapping her leg in a sensuous touch, gently spreading it wide. In her mind, Julia surrendered to dream-Elise; in her bed, she sighed and opened herself to the succubus.

  Cleastra felt a tumult building within. Desire throbbed where she rubbed against Julia’s leg; her body ached and yearned. Locked in her dream for now, Julia’s body mirrored their actions there, her arms going around Cleastra, her own hands running over the succubus’s lightly scaled skin. Her eyes flicked open, but they were unseeing of the horned demon who straddled her, knowing only that this was her desired lover. Her lips sought Cleastra’s breast, so invitingly close to her face, teasing it with tongue and teeth.

  The succubus arched her back and let Julia’s touch stoke her passion. When she had teased them both into madness, and Julia begged for release, she would give it to her.

  Oh, how she would give it to her.

  Something prodded Elise awake, a small anxiety that there was something to do, past time to do…

  Her dream was a wave receding from shore, the last of it soaking down through sand and lost from sight. The last of it…the very last of it, she remembered.

  Julia.

  Her eyelids opened, staring sightlessly into the darkened room. I drifted off, she thought, and dreamed of her.

  She’s waiting for me!

  The realization brought her upright in bed. How long have I slept? Is it too late to go to her?

  The consideration gave her pause for only a moment. She did not want to lose this chance, or tell Julia by her absence that she was not interested.

  She pulled on her dressing robe and padded silently out of the room. She found her way to her friend’s sleeping chamber and paused outside the door, belatedly combing fingers through her hair and smoothing the lines of her robe. Her hands worked automatically, a self-comfort while she rehearsed again what she would say to excuse her lateness, to break the ice, to seduce—

  The moan from behind Julia’s door shattered her train of thought. Another moan, and murmured words, and Elise realized she was hearing the unmistakable sounds of passion from within the room. Anger and confusion flared within her, spurred by an unexpected jealousy.

  How dare she!?

  Her hand was on the latch, the door swinging wide. Her mouth opened, ready to blurt something, anything, to confront this insult. She took one step into the room—and froze in place.

  Julia writhed in the throes of passion all right, but her partner was not human. A bat-winged creature knelt atop her, snake-like tail thrashing, horned head at Julia’s neck, long raven curls lost amidst Julia’s own dark locks. The creature’s full breasts attested to her female sex. Her hand between Julia’s legs moved rhythmically, provoking sighs as Julia’s hips rose to meet her thrusts. The demon rode Julia’s thigh, her own hips rocking in time to their movements, faster, ever faster, while her crooning voice was a silky seduction upon the air.

  Sex filled the room, the scents and sights and raw power of it so strong Elise felt her own body respond as if a lover stroked her intimately. The sight was fascinating like a snake charmer fascinates, holding one fixed and unmoving before something deadly.

  Elise’s hand strayed between her legs. She wanted to join the pair on the bed, become one with the pure lust burning in the room—

  The rest of her knew better.

  The rational part of her froze not in fascination, but horror. This, this creature—from her studies, she knew it by its appearance and actions. It could only be a succubus. And one in the flesh, like this, coupling with a human lover, had only one goal in mind.

  The passion was a distraction that cloaked mortal danger, and as she realized it, adrenaline burned through her system and torched away the desire she’d felt a heartbeat before.

  Her action was instinctive, unthinking. “Leave her alone!” she cried, and flew at the succubus, putting her full weight and force where she slammed into the side of the demon. She shoved, one hand on the creature’s ribs, one on its shoulder, pushing, twisting her away from Julia.

  The succubus hissed, dislodged and half off the far side of the bed. Julia cried out, suddenly abandoned, grasping towards her demonic lover. Her eyes were open but unfocused, unseeing, locked only on a waking dream.

  The succubus twisted to face her assailant and started in surprise. “You!”

  Elise fought Julia’s arms, pulling her back from the succubus she reached for. The demon’s unexpected word hit her like a bolt from the blue. The succubus knew her.

  And she knew that voice. Her mind reeled.

  “Vivian?” she asked with horrified realization.

  The succubus shook her head. “Cleastra, really, my little morsel. Don’t be so possessive now.” She crawled back atop the bed, hooked one leg over Julia’s. Julia yanked a hand from Elise’s grasp, ran it over the succubus’ chest, around her side, tried to pull her down again into an intimate embrace.

  A lascivious smile spread across the succubus’ surprisingly beautiful face. But for the horns and the pitch-black orbs of her eyes, she was a vision of loveliness.

  “Did you wish to join our little p
arty? You have but to ask. No need for jealousy. There’s enough here for everyone.” Her sharp-pointed tongue ran over her lips. Her honeyed tones warmed Elise like a sensuous caress.

  Cleastra’s hand stroked Julia’s arm down its length, her fingers tracing across Elise’s where she clasped her friend still. Where the succubus’ fingers trailed, lines of fire burned, igniting her nerves with waves of pleasure. Her breath quickened.

  “Join us,” Cleastra whispered, her face closer to Elise as she leaned in, closer, closer to kiss, her pink tongue promising explorations, her breath sweet and complex, like musk and desire and bergamot, a perfume Elise drank with her pores, absorbing the essence of Cleastra from the air around her.

  Black orbs, completely without white: dark pools to fall into…

  “Elise,” groaned Julia, “Take me again! Please take me!” Her hips gyrated with need. She pulled her arm from Elise’s slackened grasp. Still lost in her waking dream, she pulled the succubus closer.

  Cleastra hissed at the unexpected distraction.

  Elise blinked, and came back to herself. Nearly lost! she realized.

  Now her body ached for the touch of the demon, but the fear of being taken, of being drained, overrode everything else. Survival was the imperative. She took a step back from the bed.

  “Leave!” she commanded sternly.

  The succubus looked full at her for a moment. “Not interested? Then leave us to our pleasure. Don’t make me hurt you, sweetling,” she said, then smiled broadly, turned her face to Julia’s, and extended her tongue into the woman’s mouth. Julia moaned and surrendered to it, spreading her legs wide, and Cleastra’s hand returned to its intimate work as before.

  Elise could not physically overpower a succubus; no one could. Cleastra would vanish before she was defeated, simply dissolve away out of this physical manifestation. And there was no time to fetch help; Julia’s cries heightened as she came closer to orgasm, and Cleastra rode her again like a bitch in heat.

  Elise took another step back. She dared not let this come to an ending. Not the one Cleastra desired.

  Her hands moved together instinctively, feeling the pulse of energy between them, rolling her palms like she was forming a ball of dough. Power pooled there and grew as fast as she could will it into being.

  Cleastra could vanish at will. It was not enough to blast her physical form. She must be…undone.

  Her hands circled, circled, the ball between them growing. This was not the laborious work of her workshop sessions, but the product of a moment of thought, driven by intention and a fierce protective instinct. The globe of force grew, throbbing and burning against her hands, reaching a crescendo in time with the couple on the bed.

  Julia’s cries were fiercer, Cleastra’s thrusts harder. There was something final now about the succubus’ posture, a tension in her form that was unmistakable, calling for urgent release.

  Elise’s urgency burned as brightly—and she came to release a moment sooner.

  Her hands flew wide, and the globe of power shot from her grasp, arrowing across the room. It was nearly visible to her sight, a shimmer in the air, something electrifying and pure that set nerve endings afire and ionized the air.

  It struck the succubus an instant before she came. It swept her off the bed and through the air and with the outcry from Cleastra—orgasm? despair?—the ball of power exploded.

  Julia cried out, her body convulsing in the climax she had been driven towards so ruthlessly.

  The succubus vanished in a cloud of fine powdery ash, filling the room from wall to wall, drifting down like a slow, superfine snowfall.

  Julia cried out again. The glamour of the succubus was ripped from her mind and recognition of her brush with death came over her in an instant.

  Elise stood stone still, shocked at what she’d done.

  Julia came back to herself first. “My god!” she exclaimed. “What did you do?!” She clasped bedclothes to herself as she spoke, belatedly aware of her state of exposure.

  Elise smiled wryly. “I think…an unmaking. There was no other way to get rid of her. Not quickly enough.” She held out her palm to the gentle ash fall in the room, the smallest motes still swirling, descending. “I believe I just found my gift.”

  Julia shook her head in amazement, speechless. She extended her hand and Elise took it as the air slowly cleared around them.

  ~ ~ ~

  AFTERWORDS

  Authors: How The Sausage Was Made

  Here is some backstory behind the stories in this book from the authors themselves. For author biographies, content links, and additional information, please visit http://www.demonlovers.info.

  Laura Antoniou: “One Drop”

  Laura@lantoniou.com

  http://lantoniou.com

  “One Drop” was originally written for a FIST (Females Investigating Sexual Terrain) camping weekend, where I was lured with the promise of being able to read a spooky story by the campfire. This offer was complicated by the fact that I had never written a spooky erotic story, and then it rained all weekend. And this is even before I won the Fusion Worst Camper Award. This is why I now only accepts invitations that include hotel stays. As for succubi and other paranormal creatures, although I am best known for my Marketplace series of erotic novels based in a realistic modern world, I started writing as a child with the predictable vampires and elves of the over-imaginative outsider. Now almost 50, I’m seriously considering writing more.

  Lilly Cain: “Calling Syn”

  lilly@lillycain.com

  http://www.lillycain.com

  Thinking about the mythos of the succubus, I wondered how I would come up with something fresh. I was determined to come up with something out of the box. What could be more different than picturing a succubus as a religious figure? From a world where sex and lust could be a religion? And yet, my heroine, like so many women in our world, has been taken advantage of by a power-hungry man. She needs a hero to save her, but the hero? Why he needs her to bring out the hero that has been hiding inside him.

  Deborah Teramis Christian: “Elise’s Gift”

  teramis@deborahchristian.com

  http://www.deborahteramischristian.com

  My current work in progress is Queen Victoria’s Transmogrifier, a paranormal fantasy set in Victorian times. When I was developing some of the backstory of the setting, a few apparently unrelated tidbits came to my attention. For one, Julia’s older brother Edmund once had a near-fatal encounter with a succubus. I knew that the succubus Cleastra was still lurking in the background and carrying a grudge. For another, Julia and Elise (at the time of the novel’s events) have “history” between them, but those past events are never really explored in the novel. Finally, when writing a scene with Elise in a magickal combat, the powerful nature of her talents became evident, and I couldn’t help but wonder, when did she first discover she could do what she can do?

  Suddenly all the pieces came together: Cleastra’s search for vengeance, the relationship between Julia and Elise, and Elise’s gift, which she discovers when she must save her friend. I could have written about Cleastra’s encounter with Edmund, but frankly, being a fly on the wall with these two women and their budding attraction was simply much more hot, and Cleastra’s ending so much more final. Hence this story.

  Diana Pharaoh Francis: “Hunger Pains”

  dpf@dianapfrancis.com

  www.dianapfrancis.com

  I originally had this idea about a succubus who had fallen in love with a human man and was starving herself to be with him. I originally thought that a friend would interfere and force her to feed in what would essentially be a sort of bondage scene. It would finish out with her finding herself as a succubus and having sex with her human man.

  The trouble with that story was that there was no real heart to it. It ignored her main problem—why would she want to starve herself into something else? What other lengths would she go to? How could just being forced to feed ‘fix’ her? I realized
this was going to be an issue about the same time she arrived at Sarmad’s. My subconscious had realized it earlier, because I’d stuffed in the stuff about the witch without knowing how I was possibly going to get that far in a short story. But I left it because it felt right.

  So when she encounters Arash Sarmad, I realized there was more going on there than first met the eye. Even then, though, I totally expected her to keep pursuing Noah full speed ahead. But then . . . I discovered the real story. I began digging into what was driving Olivia to this extreme. I realized even if she could trust the witch to perform the spell as promised (and the witch really couldn’t do it), she would have to deal with the reason she was doing this. Her problem would simply not have been resolved.

  In the end, I love this story. It’s exactly what it should be. Olivia is back on the right track—the one where she believes in herself and accepts who she is. Will things work out with Arash? What do you think?

  Nina Harper (Shariann Lewitt’s pseudonym for preternatural stories)

  http://www.shariannlewitt.com

  I had wanted to write a story about Raven, the new goth girl succubus in the SUCCUBUS IN THE CITY books. I knew she had committed suicide but I didn’t know much about her life before her death, as it were. I also wanted to explore how succubae and various other demons are trained and selected in that universe. I had already thought a lot about their system but had never written about the actual process before, so this was an exciting opportunity to get into two aspects of the universe I really wanted to examine.

  Well, I got to look into one of those at least. Raven, well, somehow the trainee succubus wasn’t Raven. Jez had not only wanted to go to college, but had gotten into Brown. Her story, her desires and her revenge could not be more different than Raven’s—I think. Because I still don’t know Raven’s story. Still, I’m glad to have met Jez. She’s smart and sassy and—well, just the kind of succubus you can admire.