7. Sins of the Flesh #2
I whipped the shirt off over my head, sliding my hands back into his thick dark hair, roots still wet from his shower, as I held him to me. He pulled free of one breast, moving quickly to the next. His arm strapped across my back like iron and his free hand slid down my stomach and into my shorts.
I’d memorized them, my divine men, but it appeared Stavros had done his fair share of studying me in the dreams too because his fingers didn’t err, pressing directly up inside of me, pumping and twisting roughly. It was better friction than what I had, but I knew what I really wanted.
“Lemme go. I want your cock,” I gasped, which only made Stavros bite on my breast and suck and lap harder, fingers moving fast inside of me, knuckles and thumb rubbing against the lips of my sex. “Stavros, please .”
He grunted and pulled off with a wet ‘pop’, hips rising as I landed suddenly on his lap, both of us shouting as I immediately started to rock and bounce against him, the scratching of the zipper on his pants curious, and a delicious kind of bite.
At least for me. Stavros winced, guiding me back on his lap and fumbling his fingers at his waistband.
“The door,” I gasped, reaching for the shoulders of his t-shirt, pulling it up over his back.
“Church is locked up, no one’s coming,” Stavros answered in a rush, pushing his pants just far enough down for his cock to bob out, smacking against his bared stomach as I yanked his shirt off and tossed it behind me.
I’d never gotten to really talk to him in the dreams, it was enough effort to create the fantasy in the first place, and it made a giddy feeling bubble up in me. This was clumsier, sloppier, the pair of us racing and stumbling to undress, but it was real .
I jumped off his lap, and Stavros yanked my shorts down, hands fisting around the backs of my thighs and pulling my hips to his face, chin and beard nuzzling against me in the little borrowed underwear.
“Later,” I whispered, pushing the underwear down. “I just want to feel you.”
Stavros looked up at me, eyes hooded, hair mussed, lips swollen from my kiss and parted on his panting breaths.
For a moment, he looked as though I’d put him in a trance, the way I would’ve if I were feeding on someone who wasn’t as excited about the prospect as we both obviously were.
Then he grinned, scooping me off the floor and twisting, tossing me back to the couch cushions.
One hand ripped the panties away and the other pushed my legs apart, bending one knee up to spread and expose me.
“I wanted you to be real,” Stavros said, brushing his hand over my sex, testing me with two fingers and making me arch at the soft stretch.
I was made for this, regardless of what Zach thought of God’s early creation. Made to give and receive, to be pliable and embracing. At least God had done me the favor of making sure it all felt fucking delicious too.
Stavros’ weight was heavy as he lowered himself and I purred at the heat of him, until suddenly I was choking as he thrust fully inside of me.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” My hands snapped to his back, hips arching into his as he filled me.
“Deyva,” he laughed, chastising, my name strangled on a groan.
“Stavros, I think I did you a disservice in the dreams,” I moaned, spreading my legs further apart, hooking one heel over the back of the couch. Stav was thick , and even if I was built to receive, his girth still created an incredible stretch inside of me, one I wanted more of.
He laughed, breathless, hands bracing on the arm of the couch behind my head so he could hold himself up. I resisted the urge to tell him that the light from the hall gave him the effect of a halo, and instead arched my neck to nip at his jaw.
“You good?” he rasped.
I squeezed around him and started to ride him from below, humming at the buzz of the friction, the heat of his body on top of mine.
The softness of it all. Stavros was hard, muscular, and heavy, but even as he withdrew and then thrust roughly in again, testing the crash of us as we both moaned, there was an undeniable gentleness.
He wanted this to feel good for me, and it did . Better than good.
“Stop and I’ll suck you dry,” I growled, grinning at him, relieved when he grinned back, brow furrowing with effort.
For all his talk of being selfish, he was more focused on me than his own pleasure, eyes watching my face as he started to fuck me, bucking roughly and gasping on every thrust as my fingers dug into his back and my cunt clasped and squeezed around him.
“Shit, this is… Deyva .”
I was good at dream illusions, but not talented enough to have given Stavros and the others the full effect of sex with a succubus.
Stavros’ pulse pounded in his throat and I pulled him down to suck on the rhythm as he fucked me at the same pace.
The sounds between us were wet and obscene, moans liberal and ragged.
I was careful as I scratched him, wanting to mark him as mine, but not do real damage.
Human girls talked about getting pounded and they must’ve meant by men like Stavros. He was rough and desperate, his thick thighs forcing mine open. One hand left the couch to slide underneath me, pinching my neck in his grip, not choking but claiming and holding me in place for his fucking.
I was, honest to God, starting to babble praises, hanging at the edge, waiting for Stavros to find his release so I could finally have mine.
I’d lied to him. The kiss hadn’t been enough.
This would be better and cost him less energy, and it would ruin me for any other form of feeding.
I hadn’t had this in so long and everything since then had been meager or mean.
“Stavros, God, yes. Stav, please, so good, please,” I whined, rocking into him, heels bracing and slipping against the wall and floor, spread for his use.
The hand at the back of my neck squeezed and I leaned into the touch obediently, Stavros diving down, his tongue fucking my mouth roughly.
His groan echoed through me as his back started to bunch and flex beneath my hands.
I slid them down to grip his ass, as if I could force him into me harder, faster.
His rhythm stuttered and my legs twisted around his hips, heels digging into that perfect ass as the couch squeaked and bumped across the carpeted floor.
“Fuck, Deyva, I’m—”
I swallowed the words, drawing Stavros into me, my hunger sucking on his cock as it released into me and the man in my arms shuddered and collapsed, pinning me to the cushions, burying himself inside of me.
A succubus didn’t really orgasm like a woman, but our feeding was close, better even. I trembled as the rush shook through me, made my veins feel electric one moment, and then honeyed and slow the next. Stavros started to move, and I dug my nails into his back, holding him in place.
“...Holy shit,” he sighed, shaking and hissing as I fluttered around him with a happy little aftershock of the feed.
I grinned, nuzzling into his cheek and beard, nosing at his ear, sighing at the wave of warmth and contentment buzzing through him.
There wasn’t much cuddling in the dreams I’d used, but I’d noted Stavros’ craving for that contact.
Guilt was lacing through him, but it was faint by comparison to the relief and bone deep satisfaction, just a complement to his sweeter flavors.
He ignored my irritable squeak and rolled us on the small couch, sinking down into the old cushions and holding me draped over his chest.
Our eyes met shyly and his brow ticked up. “Usually in the dream, you make me go again.”
I blushed, a rare warmth on my cheeks that I hoped he couldn’t see with the glare of the hall light behind me. I was suddenly aware that what he would notice was the silhouette of my horns, something I’d conveniently left out of the dreaming. But he didn’t look up to them.
“It’s different in the dreams. I could make you hard again like this, but it would strain your heart, your body,” I murmured. “And I might’ve taken a little more than I realized. Better to see how you feel.”
“I feel fucking fantastic,” he said, head thunking on the arm of the couch, lips curled in satisfaction. His eyelids did look heavy as he blinked though. “I thought you looked like you were enjoying yourself in the dreams. Pretty proud of myself that I beat the fantasy.”
I rolled my eyes, but let him be smug. It was true. It was probably too soon, even by human standards, to tell Stavros that he was the best thing to happen to me in centuries. Especially since most of that had to do with his quality as a meal.
Instead, I ducked my head, licking at his nipple and making him grunt. “What’ll you tell Kais and Zach?” I murmured on the heat of his skin.
“Don’t worry about them.” His fingers swirled in a repeating pattern through the strands of my hair.
“ I’m not worried.” I copied the same motion he was doing on his chest. “But they’re going to worry about you.”
He let out an indignant sound, sliding his arms tighter around me as if the other two priests would physically rip me away from him.
I hid my smile in the crook of his arm, the protectiveness wafting from him as cozy as the towel Kais gave me for my shower.
It was endearing, if ultimately meaningless.
A byproduct of the chemicals his body released after orgasm, nothing more.
“They know how I am,” he sighed. “They know my...habits. I don’t think either one of them will be completely surprised. And if they’re not the ones doing this,” his affection stilled, fingers pausing on my shoulder, “then it’s one less burden for them to bear.”
“Oh, such a burden, am I?” I skimmed a hand across his chest to his other nipple, circling a light touch around it.
“The worst,” he chuckled, lips brushing the top of my forehead. A finger tucked under my chin, returning my gaze to him. “How long until you need to feed again?”
“To feel as good as this ?” I grinned. “Once a day. I can make it a week without, but will weaken significantly. Roughly two weeks is when it gets dangerous.”
“I see.”
A new sharp taste emerged in Stavros' emotions, one that seemed to drown out his guilt completely. I didn’t know whether to laugh or growl at him for feeling such a way. It came with a deep, contented huff of air and his hands locking into place on my back.
Determination. Conviction. There were a few words for it.
The perfect sacrifice who would offer himself up again and again.