Chapter 8 Singularity #4
"Fancy," Cy commented heatedly as the elevator doors slid shut with a soft hiss.
His voice curled low and warm, filling the tight space with sensual promises.
She saw her reflection in the dark glass.
Her askew hair, lips bitten and swollen, eyes half-lidded.
She looked like the type of girl she only saw in the movies.
Reckless and free.
If only it were that easy.
The incubus was draped over her back, pressing whisper-soft kisses to her nape as he held her white hair to the side. She shivered. The floor numbers flashed as the elevator ascended.
Until finally, it came to a swift stop at floor number thirty-seven. The doors opened, and the darkened hallway loomed.
"After you, doll." Cy’s lips skimmed the back of her neck.
Her knees threatened to give out as she led him to her door, swiping the back of her watch over the keypad to unlock it. The handle was cold under her fingers, or maybe everything was cold because she was burning.
Inside, the tint on the large, curved window was still removed, and the neon haze of the city lights filtered in, bright flashes of fluorescence that reminded her of Forget You Not, turning the black sheets and dark walls into a sparkling mirage of radiance.
Cy walked in like he owned the place. His purple eyes took in the large expanse of the window, her small suitcase, unzipped and opened, with a few lacy bras and some of Kit’s shirts hanging out of it.
Her tiny toiletry bag was sitting on the desk, next to a bottle of water and a few magazines.
She was glad she hadn’t left her other Echogun out—it was tucked deep inside her bag, while the other remained on her person.
Cy lifted one of the magazines—the sleek black ammunition storage filled with Echobullets. He weighed it in his hand. "Who are you, doll? A little human, or something more? You smell human. Do you taste it, too?"
Rin licked her lips, the faint taste of berries and salt lingering there… "You’ve already tasted me. You tell me." Her voice was soft.
The magazine was set back on the desk with a soft thud.
"If you think that was a taste, I feel sorry for you," he purred, walking closer. The strip of lights along the top of the wall was dimmed—she didn’t want them any brighter.
She wanted to hide herself away. She tipped her head back, breath hitching as his soft hand smoothed over her cheek.
"Let me show you what a real taste is like, doll.
" His red hair seemed to glow in the neon lights, and a strand fell over his forehead as he lowered his face to hers, nose skimming along her cheek as he breathed her in. "Let me in."
The room was quiet and still, and she found her chin dipping with a soft, tremulous nod.
He moved to kiss along the side of her neck, her jaw, her cheek, shifting to brush the length of his nose down hers, and then finally, finally press his plush, sinfully skilled lips to hers.
She sighed into his mouth. Kissing, she could do. It made her hazy and dazed, made it easy to forget. She found she could kiss this incubus forever.
Every kiss built her up until it was too late to turn back. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to.
They stumbled to the bed, the back of her knees hitting the edge, and then, she found herself toppling backward, a soft gasp falling from her swollen lips as he hovered over her.
Something in her chest tightened.
He fit himself atop her, the delicate links of his body chain hitting her stomach as he leaned over her.
His hands roamed her body with a practiced, sensual grace, slipping down the thin straps of her gown, revealing the beginning swell of her breasts, then pushing it down lower.
She arched up into him, gasping against his mouth as his soft hands cupped her bare breast.
"Oh," she moaned, brows furrowing. She had never felt that before. It felt so good…
So wrong.
The dog tag chain tangled around her neck, his hands brushing over it.
A piece of her fractured.
She wanted to forget—to feel something other than the ache in her chest.
Her pulse was frantic, thundering against her ribcage as if it wanted to break free of her body. Pleasure licked against her spine as the incubus continued to kiss her, and she had half the mind to wonder if he was feeding from her right now, but the thoughts dissolved like smoke.
Cool air kissed her navel as the silken dress pooled to her waist, Cy’s hands stroking and teasing every bit of skin he could touch.
Her hands drifted to his chest, pushing at his shirt.
He pulled away, purple eyes glowing with heat and power. "You want to take it off?"
She nodded, shy.
"Then do it," he coaxed, a sinful, decadent purr.
Rin’s hands grew bold, shoving at his shirt, letting it fall to her side amongst the rumpled sheets.
He was beautiful. A work of art. Pale, lithe muscles; the glimmer of his body chain absorbed the neon lights. His pants were slung low on his hips, and her fingers brushed the edge, nervous.
He took her hand, and with it, urged her to his belt, threading their fingers together and using her as a mere tool to unbuckle it, then pushed down his pants to reveal smooth, unmarked skin, the dangerous cut of his lower stomach, and…
He wasn’t wearing boxers.
Rin blushed.
"Are all incubi so prideful?" she couldn’t help but ask, breathless.
"Only when it comes to the pretty ones." Cy finally tugged her rumpled gown off. It tangled around her ankles, and she finished kicking it off. She wore only panties, and the lacy trim was practically non-existent. The holster on her leg gleamed, and his hands traced the shape of it, snug against her thigh. "Oh, what’s this? Dangerous little thing, hm? Human, definitely. But the way you move… the way your eyes track a room as you enter it… I’m going to guess Hunter?
" he questioned, moving to the strap of the harness. The Echogun’s safety was on, but she brushed his hands away, undoing the strap herself and carefully setting the holstered gun aside on the table by the bed.
She didn’t answer him.
"That can’t be right, though. You seem so young, so sweet." He shook his head. "Not sweet, but strangely naive. Hunter in training?"
The incubus searched her eyes, mouth splitting into a grin. "I’m right—I knew it. Here for a mission?" he purred.
"That’s classified," she responded distractedly.
"Fine by me. I can find out."
She hummed, arching up into him—her body knew what to do even if she had never done this before.
He saw the quiet challenge in her gaze, fingers stroking over the lace-covered spot between her legs, making her shiver.
There it was again—
Grief.
Hopelessness…
Restlessness.
She shoved it all down, searching for oblivion in his purple, lustful eyes.
"Kiss me," she demanded huskily.
And he did.
Cyrus pressed his lips to hers, feeling how desperately she clung to him.
She was so different this time around.
Cold and a little harsh. As if a wall of ice was wrapped around her. He wanted to make it thaw.
Vesperin played pretend so beautifully. She gasped into him, back arching, her feet tangling with his. Her nipples were sweet little peaks, and he leaned his head down to taste them, moaning around the softness of her skin. He could bottle her scent and bathe in it, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
Incubi and succubi were finely attuned to such things. It was how they fed. And right now, her cherry scent was ripe and dripping with need—and the barest hints of despair.
Was she sad? What made her sad?
Cyrus wanted to fuck it away for her. Wanted her lost in him, gasping, screaming, remembering. He’d waited three hundred years. He couldn’t wait another second. The incubus couldn’t help it—he was made to give in to pleasure.
But after she had died, he had nearly starved to death, waiting for her…
"Cy," she moaned as he sucked at her breast.
His other hand traveled down to her panties, stroking over the lace that clung to her slim hips. He tugged them off harshly, feeling them catch around her hips. She gasped.
"Doll," he mumbled around her flesh, "you taste so sweet."
Her growing pleasure made him fit to burst, coursing throughout his limbs. Still, it wasn’t enough for him.
Cyrus’s fingers found the bare flesh between her thighs, hot and wet.
His fingers dipped inside her folds, and she made a strangled sound.
All the gentleness fled from his movements, turning hurried and reckless as her pleasure thrummed inside him, making him salivate.
He brought his fingers that glistened with her arousal up to his mouth.
He sucked on them, tasting her cherry slickness.
"Fuck," he groaned, cock hard and aching. He needed to be inside her, needed to feel her around him.
She hiccuped a soft noise as his cock brushed against her heat, her thighs falling open to make the perfect cradle for his hips.
"Cy, that f-feels—" Vesperin broke off as he ran the tip of his cock over her center.
Cyrus’s fingers moved between them, dipping inside her, feeling how warm and tight she was. There was resistance, and he curled his fingers. "Loosen up, doll. Relax and forget—just for the night," he warned.
This was all play, after all. A game.
He removed his fingers from within her, his cock sliding against her heat.
Her grey eyes sparkled with unshed tears as, finally, he drove inside her.
Cyrus couldn’t hold back any longer from having her.
Rin gasped at the intrusion, feeling something delicate give way deep inside her. He was large and thick, spearing her, splitting her open. Her fingernails cut into his back.
What have I done? she thought.
It felt so good, but so bad. It hurt, it burned. She wanted more; she wanted him to leave her. Muscles she didn’t even know she had clenched around the incubus as he drove into her. Pleasure filled the air, and she swore she could see the faintest tendrils of red glittering around them.