Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Kian
The leather interior of my Bentayga is overtaken by the smell of frosty juniper and smoky rose.
I adjust myself subtly, glancing at Lena out of the corner of my eye.
I forgot how addicting succubi can be. It’s been less than thirty minutes since we ravished each other, and I already want to go again.
All succubi are good in bed or in this case desk.
It comes with the territory. But even as only half succubus, she’s perfection.
Beautiful not just in her looks, but in the quiet confidence of her movements, the elegant intelligence behind her eyes, and the sweet adulation in her feeding.
She seemed to know exactly what I wanted before I’d even considered the desire.
She played with my inclinations to dominate like a prodigy, knowing the push and pull of a more experienced lover.
She skillfully donned her brat demeanor, provoking my dominance and making her submission that much sweeter.
Our chemistry was explosive. She is the best I’ve ever had in the 110 years I’ve been taking partners to bed.
Too fucking bad it will never happen again.
I regret not spending my time exploring her body, learning the pitch of her gasp when she comes, begging, on my fingers.
It was the one and only time I’ll get to have her, and now, I’ll never know the sound her ass makes when she’s spanked or what her mouth looks like wrapped around my cock or get to feel her neck flex under the full weight of my grip.
Damnit, don’t go there. I didn’t seek her out with the intention of sleeping with her.
I promised myself I never would. And obviously, I fucked that up.
But she came running up the stairs, dripping wet and dropping her towel, unabashedly standing there beautifully naked.
Her body so like an early Renaissance painting.
When her soft wet curves crashed into me, I was overtaken by desire nearly strong enough to bring me to my knees. Fuck.
She began slowly feeding from my lust the moment her towel hit the ground.
And the demon in me recognized the creature in her.
At first, she was barely tasting, her feeding so subtle I wouldn’t have felt it, if I hadn’t been looking for it.
She fed more deeply each time I pushed her to confront her Insignis.
And when she finally did, the look on her face told me she hadn’t known.
She might have suspected, sure. But the sincerity of her surprise, when she finally admitted to herself what she is, couldn’t be faked.
“You thought you might be a succubus before I came to you tonight.” I look at her, and she nods in response. “How long have you held that suspicion?”
“For about maybe an hour before I found you lurking outside my bedroom like a creeper.” She snorts.
“I’m not creepy.” I clutch my chest in mock hurt.
“I’m pretty sure a fallen angel constitutes creepy.” She crosses her arms in that bratty way that highlights the swell of her cleavage and makes me want to punish her for her pouty obstinance.
“I’m a fallen. We’re a different insignis from angels entirely.
” I chuckle derisively. Give-and-take, right?
“You shouldn’t believe every bedtime story.
Fallen have about as much in common with angels as you as a succubus have in common with a banshee.
” A visible shiver rakes her body at that. “Not a fan?”
“I haven’t enjoyed my experience with fear feeders.
” Her teeth catch the curve of her lower lip as shadow and light dance across her face from the moonlight streaming through the trees.
She’s so beautiful, the ache to reach out and touch her almost unbearable.
This is why I shouldn’t have slept with her.
I knew once was never going to be enough. But it has to be.
“I started putting it all together tonight.” She sighs, toying with the cuff of her sweatshirt. “I was casually seeing this guy. It didn’t go anywhere.”
My knuckles turn white, and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel as she talks about Michi—who’s now sporting two matching black eyes and a broken nose.
“Anyway, I haven’t been feeling like myself. I was attracted to him but not really into him. I don’t think I was feeding, not really. Maybe just sipping. And then tonight…I had a few moments where I fed.” Her brow is creased in thought as she stares out the windshield.
“Nik?” I ask, eyeing her—knowing they kissed but hating the thought of her getting something from him I wanted to provide.
Her cheeks flame as she gives me a firm nod. His fang marks are just barely visible over the collar of her sweatshirt, and I clutch the steering wheel with an iron grip.
“This isn’t common—or maybe normal is the word I’m looking for—is it?” she asks.
“To be from two different kingdoms? No, it’s not.” I let out a shaky breath. “Don’t tell anyone. We need to come up with a plan on how to deal with this.”
“We?” She gives me a skeptical look.
“I know that we haven’t had the smoothest relationship,” I confess.
“But this is important. Cross-kingdom procreation is forbidden and results in severe consequences for both parents and progeny. In my lifetime, I’ve only seen three children born of cross-kingdom pairings.
One was the result of a mated pair and as such was not subject to procreation laws. The others were executed. All parties.”
She whispers a curse in Russian, wide eyes locking on mine. “So you’re saying, unless my parents were mated…”
“Since there were no signs Adrik was mated, you’re in danger,” I confirm. “Please believe me when I say I want to help you with this.”
“Fuck.” Her breath stutters. “Why?”
Why, indeed? How can I explain without telling her the whole truth? A truth she won’t understand. A truth that is becoming more apparent with each moment we spend together. A truth I can’t even give voice to in my own mind. But surely I can give some without giving all. Give-and-take.
“You’re a Convalescere citizen, it’s my duty to help you,” I lie with all the authority of my position. Since she entered our world, I’ve had to tell too many lies and half-truths that’ve turned sour on my lips like vinegar.
“It’s not your duty to protect me from your own laws.” She narrows her eyes, always pushing me to reveal more than I want to.
“Some laws are antiquated,” I explain. I’d do away with them if I could.
“I would like to see the realm move on from its dark history. An alliance between us would go a long way to putting to rest rumors that seek to tear the realm apart.” This is one of the truest reasons I brought her here.
Regardless of if she were to make a challenge to Boden’s throne when she graduates, there is a seat on the Cross-Kingdom Council waiting for her by birthright.
I couldn’t risk any of the other council members getting to her first and tipping future votes in their favor.
I also couldn’t risk them gaining access to a power that owns me.
And knowing the other councilors, some of them will stop at nothing to gain power, including subjecting a young woman to Ironnull Prison.
“What rumors?” She glares.
“I’ll answer, but you will answer questions for me as well.”
She bobs her head in one curt nod.
I slow the car down as we pull up to the estate’s gated entrance. “We can discuss more inside,” I confirm, as we start down the long winding driveway. “I should have asked, I’m sorry we didn’t use protection.”
“Yeah, we should have talked about that.” Her lips pinch together. “I have an IUD, so nothing to worry about there.”
“I’m also on preventatives,” I say, pulling into the garage.
She tilts her head, so I add, “Magicae approach health care with less patriarchal sentiments than humans.” Her eyebrows rise in consideration.
“On that note, sex with succubi or incubi can be quite…overwhelming. So those types of conversations will not always be effective in the heat of the moment. Something to look out for with future partners.” These are things she needs to know, even if the words taste like ash on my tongue.
I’m glad her first time feeding fully from a magica was with me, but the thought of her feeding again with someone else makes me nauseous.
A feeling I quickly squash under my Santoni oxfords.
“I appreciate that.” Her rosy lips turn up into the smallest of smiles, and I realize they’re the exact same shade as her pert nipples.
Fuck. I squash that thought underfoot, too.
“I guess this is all usually covered in the ‘birds and the bees and the succubi who feed’ talk one would have with their mother, huh?” Her disenchanted laugh is somehow both warm and cold.
“I imagine so.” I sigh, pulling into my spot. I turn off the ignition. “Shall we?”
“Yeah, this conversation needs alcohol.” Her answering laugh is more generous with its warmth now.
She’s certainly right about that. A drink, preferably something made from a juniper-forward gin, is necessary.
Still, I can’t kick the feeling that there’s not enough alcohol in the world to dull the taste of her.