Succubus Games Page 2

  But … I’ll be fucking Helveticus for three and a half hours this afternoon. Perhaps the Fates have begun weaving a new pattern for me. If I can drain enough of his energy, I might have a chance. Normally I only take what I need from my sex partners, but with the stakes being what they are, perhaps I need to be more selfish. I wouldn’t be the first succubus to leave a man in a near vegetative state after an afternoon romp.

  ***

  Number 17 Pegasus Lane

  commands the block like a bloated king amidst a court of beanpole jesters. Who’s he been banging? Probably Tyche from the looks of their exchange. I suspect she’s a generous but demanding patroness. I live on the more squalid side of Sisyphus. So many of Aphrodite’s “kids” live here; there is not much support to go around. At least she’s more generous than Zeus. That asshole never gives even his favorites the stingiest of donations. No doubt Hera’s influence. The smartest move I ever made was to avoid that one. His brother Hades will be bad enough, but at least he’s got a sexy bad boy vibe going for him.

  Before my knuckles can strike Helveticus’s door, it swings open. We stare at each other, me waiting for him to invite me in, he for … no idea. Maybe he’s afraid of Tyche screwing him over if she finds out he’s dallying with me. I wonder if he knows I’m a succubus.

  “So you’re a succubus, I hear?” he says.

  Guess that mystery is shot.

  He takes my hand and tugs me forward. His other hand slides into the small of my back, and a finger settles into the cleft of my ass.

  Warmth from his palm pools briefly against my skin before winging through my body. Heat shoots to the tips of my fingers and toes before rebounding to ignite the space between my legs. Nice.

  I glance about the room he’s invited me into. The ceiling looms high above us and is adorned with various erotic scenes—orgies, autoeroticism, men with women, women with women, men with men. Beneath my feet is an intricate mosaic tile depicting Zeus raping some poor mortal woman. Disgusting what passes for art these days.

  “So, are you?” he asks.

  “Am I what?”

  The edges of his lips lift slightly. “A succubus?”

  “Why does it matter?” I breeze past him, away from Zeus toward a vignette of Athena waging one of her many battles. Girl power. I’d rather look at her.

  “It makes a difference in how we spend the next three and a half hours, considering we’ll be battling each other right after.”

  I blow out a puff of contemptuous air. “Worried you can’t handle me?”

  He bursts out laughing. “Oh, sweetheart. Have you got it all wrong.”

  “Do I? What makes you think so?” I slip off my outer robe.

  Helveticus’s eyes darken as they romp over the sheer gauze of my gown. I don’t often wear my gossamer frock, mostly because I’m worried my lust-crazed partners will rip it. I typically dial back the pheromones until my designer confection lies safely in a puddle at the foot of a bed.

  “You really don’t know who I am, do you?” The distance between us shrinks, his sandals barely audible on the tile floor.

  I tilt my head to stare at him, and lick my lips seductively. “No, I can’t say I do. Care to enlighten me?”

  “Mars is my father.”

  “Oh, you’re Italian? That explains the Latin on your walls, I guess.”

  He moves closer. “Lilith is my mother.”

  My smile withers. “Lilith?” Lilith is the Goddess of all succubi, the spiritual leader of my kind, if you will. “S-so, what does that make you?”

  “Impervious to your abilities.” He’s toe to toe with me, a feral hunger in his eyes.

  Gulp.

  Chapter Three

  Trouble and danger are plotting a gangbang, and I’m the main course. I am not liking how this is going, especially since he’s having an effect on me. Parts of me are hardening; parts of me are softening. Blood is flooding my battle stations. If he’s Lilith’s son—I never knew she had a son—he thrives on sex as much as I do, craves it, takes it. He’s not an incubus though. I’ve met a few of those fellows in my day, and they are a nasty bunch of rapists. No, Helveticus is made of subtler but far more deadly stuff. However, if Mars, the Roman god of war, is his father, all bets on a kinder, gentler Helveticus are off. Time to bluff.

  “From where I’m standing, I think you want me as much as I want you. I think you—”

  Demanding lips on mine seal my remaining words in my head while two brawny arms trap me in their embrace. His power and presence overwhelm me, my breath stolen to ransom for my submission, which I gladly yield. Lips move over mine, urging them apart so his tongue can tease, then invade my mouth.

  We catch our breaths and begin the kiss anew. His agile tongue traces the edges of my teeth before curling in an embrace with my tongue. Tangy sweet flavors of dates and pomegranates tantalize me.

  I’m pressed closer, my breasts flattening against the steely hard chest and abdomen. My arms slide up and lock around his neck, and a tiny whimper escapes. He cups my buttocks and pulls my hips to his.

  “Perhaps I underestimated your abilities, succubus.” A low growl precedes another kiss—long, slow, deep and toe curling. Molten desire sears my flesh, his touch the cause and the cure.

  I lose all hope of winning this battle of sexual prowess; his masculine energy is so potent and compelling. My knees weaken, and my mind blanks out all thought other than how long before I can get his cock inside me, and why can’t it already be now.

  Now. Now. My hips rotate and grind against him, no longer under my control but under his. Between my legs a weeping emptiness yearns to be filled. The scent of my arousal betrays me, but so does his, creating a musky, complimentary blend of male and female.

  Our fingers fumble with the knot holding my gown in place, the sash at his waist, the cloak on his shoulders. We aren’t fast enough because our kisses slow our pace, and our bodies hinder our movements. Like two magnets, we cannot be parted, even to further the end goal. Could I be affecting him as strongly as he is affecting me? A thin current of triumph zings through me.

  I nearly have his clothing ready to drop to the floor. “Where should we—”

  I fly up in the air, in his arms. My clothing dangles precariously, as if it will fall from me any second, and when we reach his bedroom, it does. Other than my jewelry, I wear nothing but my skin and a thick coating of lust.

  The bedroom is spacious and airy, the walls a dark masculine color. Furs cover his bed and the surrounding areas—the bedroom of a man who spends much time in it. Mine boasts similar comforts.

  When he tosses me on his bed, I sink into the linens, crisp and sun-dried, the scent of the summer afternoon still present in their folds. I scramble to the center and lie on my back, my body laid out like a feast before him. He finishes removing the last of his clothes. His gaze consumes me, dares me to look away. I cannot even if I wished.

  I kick off my sandals as he kicks off his. I’m ready to drink in the sight of this magnificent male before me.

  Skin burnished from the sun, taut muscles roping over his soaring frame, a dusting of hair on his chest and bisecting his abdominals, the same dark color as the curling locks cascading from his head—his beauty surpasses Apollo’s. His strength matches Hercules’. His cock has no rivals, for it is of godlike proportions, long and thick and stands at full attention. The sizeable sac beneath is drawn upward and taut.

  Helveticus takes hold of himself with a grip that brings out the muscles in his forearms, and pumps his fist up and down. A drop of pre-cum glistens on the tip when he tugs the foreskin down to reveal the plum-colored glans. I touch the tip of my tongue to my upper lip.

  “You want this don’t you, succubus?”

  I nod. No point in being coy. I do want it, want him, more than any other I’ve ever beheld. I want him to shove his cock inside me to the root. I want him to flex and thrust those muscular hips to drive himself deep inside, to stroke and pet me from within. I want every inch
of his succulent cock to fill my pussy, my mouth and my ass.

  A sly smile accompanies him as he pounces on the bed, and like a large cat, crawls on his hands and knees toward me. When he reaches my calves, his hands blaze a trail for his tongue to follow, bathing my skin with liquid fire.

  “Oh! Yes!” The words leap from my mouth. I try to hold my legs still but I need to move, to urge his tongue and his hands closer to where I need him most. “More!” My hips rock and rotate, coaxing him to spiral in to my pleasure’s center.

  “Mm, you taste good but I’ll bet not as good as other parts of you.” The soft hairs on his head brush against my inner thighs, teasing a moan from me.

  My eyes drift shut and my head falls back and I feel—feel his roughened hands on my thighs, his hot mouth inching closer to my center, the silky sweep of his hair. “Helveticus, you are my undoing.”

  A low chuckle shakes the bed, but I am transported elsewhere when he reaches my labia. Contact is tentative at first, and I shy away, skittish but desperate at the same time. His tongue seeks my trembling flesh and reassures me with long lapping strokes. I nearly fly off the bed when he stabs deep inside me. How can a man’s tongue be so long and adept at reaching all the way into my brain to lap up any remaining rational thought?

  My cries come in soft mewls as he alternates laving my clit with plunging his talented tongue inside my pussy.

  “Oh yes! Like that, right there, keep doing that!” I reach down and touch his head buried between my legs, threading my fingers into his hair. It’s softer than I expected, thick and full. With light pressure, I pull him higher to torment my clit with more concentrated tongue-lashings. No more deep sea diving; I need him to wade in my shallows.

  The threshold of my release looms closer when Helveticus moans into my channel, the vibrations against my clit nearly sending me over the edge. He plunges first one finger then a second inside me, while his lips and tongue nibble at the petals of my pussy, lapping the honey he finds there. His moan becomes a hum and I his instrument, vibrating with each note he plays on my sex.

  My cries grow louder and echo in the massive room, and he laughs. His whole body shakes from his laughter, and the effect is devastatingly delicious.

  I’m so close, so close, when suddenly he removes his mouth. A rush of air takes its place.

  “No!” My hips rise up to follow his wonderful lips and tongue, to beg for more attention. He can’t be done, he can’t. He can’t abandon me now!

  Hands that held my thighs open slide up my hips then position themselves beside me on the bed. I open my eyes in time to see his head blot out my vision. As his mouth claims my mouth, his cock claims my pussy.

  He is not gentle or slow, but rough and fast. Before I can catch my breath, he has impaled himself to the hilt. He doesn’t move at first, just holds himself still and makes an animal-like sound, proclaiming his possession.

  “Great Zeus, you undo me!” Slowly he pulls back then drives forward again. He repeats the move with exaggeration. “Fucking Olympus, so sweet, so tight.” His balls bump against my ass with his next punishing thrust.

  I open my thighs wider in welcome. Legs draw up and wrap around his back, eliciting a new groan from Helveticus.

  “Fuck!” Two arms brace his upper torso in a raised position to allow him greater range of motion.

  He nearly pulls out of me in a long fluid stroke, but his sizeable organ never completely leaves. The trip back inside my slick heat brings out my purr. His angle is perfect to tug at the covering to my pearl, a gentle massage that with each stroke nudges me closer to Elysium.

  “Oh yes, more, more!” I cry out. My hips rock and strain for greater friction between male and female flesh.

  Our gazes lock, and the corner of his mouth curls. He unleashes his inner beast and the real fucking begins. Like the lashes of whip, his plundering cock moves fast and hard, striking sparks of desire like a knife on flint. My wetness spills down into the crack of my ass as he fucks me with a furious, unapologetic rhythm.

  “You like that, succubus?”

  “Yes!”

  “I didn’t hear you. What-did-you-say?” His hips pound into mine.

  “Yes-yes-yes-yes!” I time my words to each of his plunges, with each of collision of our pelvises.

  Helveticus lowers his torso to drape over mine. His fingers dig into my hips to hold me still as he drives himself inside me again and again. Breaths come in loud, raspy pants.

  No mercy. There is no mercy. He offers none, and I’ll not ask for it.

  My traitorous pussy begs for the pounding to cease, but I want more. I beg him to fuck me even harder. The long slow climb to the heavens is nearly finished, only the last few strokes, deeper, with grunting and other lusty sounds coming from my lips and his.

  Until all explodes with the violence of a volcano. I fly out of myself as my body releases all its tension and I crest the hill and begin my fall into oblivion.

  A scream. His first, then mine. We are there together, clinging one to the other, stealing every last morsel of bliss our bodies can wrest from the other’s, until we land on the downy cushion of his bed.

  He rests only a matter of minutes before he mounts me yet again. The passion play repeats with even more mind-numbing consequences.

  The third time, though, I am sore and tell him so. He doesn’t care and takes me anyway. This climax is the most powerful of all.

  My pleas for mercy when he rouses for an incredible fourth attack on my whimpering sex, he heeds, but only as long as it takes to flip me to my stomach. Lying on top of me, the tip of his cock probes my ass, sliding between cheeks slick with his cum and my juices.

  “I’m going to fuck your ripe, luscious ass now,” he says. I bear down to open myself to him, to allow him to slowly push inside me inch by inch. When the hairs of his sex tickle my skin, he stops and we lie still. His weight is heavy on my back but not unbearably so.

  As if he’s read my thoughts, he rolls to his side, taking me with him, his massive staff still impaled in my ass. A thick finger finds my nub of pleasure and gives it a light flick as he flexes his hips and thrusts into me. Again he repeats the lazy flick and flex duo. On his third thrust, he dips his finger inside my pussy then pulls out of both my entrances.

  “Why did you stop?” I ask, panting.

  “I need something. Stay right there. Don’t move.”

  The bed shifts and the air against my back chills from his absence. But soon he’s back and his warmth reassures my skin.

  “Lift your leg and let me enter you again,” he says.

  I comply, and he pushes through the tight, sensitive ring to reseat himself deep inside. It isn’t his finger possessing my pussy, but a large, phallic shaped object, not quite as warm as he is, but hard and thick. I am filled to near bursting in both entrances.

  “You like that? Being fucked in your cunt and ass at the same time?” He doesn’t wait for my answer, but bites my earlobe and quickens the pace of both intruders he controls.

  “More,” I whisper. My eyes clamp shut as I ride the intense storm of ecstasy sweeping in to overwhelm me.

  He gives me more—faster, harder, deeper and utterly ruthless.

  “So fucking tight, gods be damned, you feel so fucking good.”

  I don’t hear him anymore, because I am lost in the maelstrom of my climax. Whatever the hell he’s fucking my pussy with is going in my suitcase when I’m packed off to Hades’ lair. If I have to steal it, I will!

  Helveticus grunts and furiously rams my ass until with a loud shout he surges forward a final time and stills, his organ pulsing and jetting his come, hot and copious. He pulls back with a soft groan and pushes forward in a final shuddering thrust, once again frozen as his vocalizations fade to silence.

  I have never been with a man who possessed more stamina than me, but this one does. We have done nothing but transfer our sexual sustenance from one to the other, though he has left me weaker than I him.

  How can such a ma
n exist? Never have I been out performed in the bedroom before. Never.

  I lift my arm, or try to lift it, but the thing barely acknowledges my command. My legs are similarly rebellious. Not good, and the fall of the shadows on his wall tell me I am still at his disposal for another hour. I don’t think I will survive that long.

  I steal a glance over my shoulder at my bedroom warrior. He dozes, thank the gods. He needs at least a little recovery time. Maybe I’ll just shut my eyes for a bit too…

  Chapter Four

  Loud banging against a door in the distance awakens me. I am still weak but at least I can wiggle my toes. Curled around me from shoulders to ankles, his nose nestled into my hair, Helveticus is also waking.

  “Damnation!” He jumps from the bed, with far too much energy for my liking, and with a sheet wrapped about his waist, hurries to answer the door.

  While he’s gone, I seek my clothing and sandals—no easy task, the room is in such disarray from our earlier frolicking. Strident voices from the next room halt me. I move closer to the bedroom door to indulge my curiosity.

  “You’ve been here all this time? I’ve been looking all over for you! And why aren’t you dressed already? Do you know what time it is? Don’t you have any appreciation for what I’ve done for you?” The voice belongs to Tyche. My stomach does a free fall to my toes.

  “I didn’t ask you to do it. I never promised you any more than the one night.” Helveticus’s voice is raised and angry. “Leave me now so I can prepare for my battle!”

  “Like pummeling that little wisp of a thing into a puddle of mead will even make you sweat. You could beat her with a cross word.” A groaning sigh marks the close of her argument until she resumes her harangue, only this time in a much lower and deadlier tone. “Is there someone in your bedroom?”

  “I don’t answer to you. Please leave now,” Helveticus says, his voice pitched in an equally dangerous range.

  Eep! Tyche, can’t find me here. Fortune giveth and she taketh away. I gather up my clothing and search for a place to hide.