Succubus Games Page 3

  “I think I’ll just take a look!” Tyche’s seething words foretell the opening of the door.

  “No!” Helveticus yells. Scuffling, like sandals slipping on the tiles, grunts from exertion, and cries of frustration move closer.

  From where I’m crouched behind a large shield in the corner, I can hear but cannot see.

  “Let go of me. I know there’s a woman in here! Where is she! Where’s the whore you’ve been fucking!”

  I make myself as small as possible, my muscles locked in a living rigor mortis.

  The swish of fabric across the floor moves toward me. A deep male voice says, “There is no one here, Tyche. Once again your jealous imagination shames you. But even if there were, you have no right to challenge me like this!”

  “No right? I just got you a ticket out of this place, lover! You don’t think you owe me after what I did for you?” Tyche’s snarling voice is close. She must be standing nearly toe-to-toe with Helveticus.

  “You and I already settled our deal. I will not further subjugate myself to you. This duel is nothing but another scheme to re-enslave me, pitting me against a woman! You shame me! Are you hoping I’ll bow out? Let my second clean up the messy details?”

  Oh wow. He’s livid. Tyche isn’t one to piss off.

  “Bah! I never took you for a coward, Helveticus.”

  “Why would you do this? What sort of machinations have you set into motion by choosing Willow?”

  “Me? I had nothing to do with the succubus being chosen. That was wholly Aphrodite’s affair. Though why she did it is anyone’s guess.”

  The shuffle of sandals on the floor moves them further away. Their voices drop to inaudible levels. I wish I could hear what Tyche’s saying about Aphrodite, why she picked me, but I don’t dare emerge from my hiding spot.

  “Darling, don’t be cross with me. It does not become you.” An appeasing tone infuses her voice, now much closer.

  “My apologies, my lady, but the shame of having to battle a female taints my tongue. It was badly done!”

  He’s afraid of her, that much I can tell even if I can’t see his body language. My ears don’t lie and my nose scents the spike in his anxiety.

  Tyche laughs. “As to fighting a woman, think no more of it. Some say this Willow is actually a man, a shape-shifting incubus disguised to seduce whichever sex he chooses. Consider it. Do you think Aphrodite would take such a long-term interest in another woman? Though she likes to engage in love play with both sexes, she prefers cock to pussy. With Willow, can have her pick at any time.”

  A man? I am no man! How dare she say such about me!

  Helveticus lets loose a throaty chuckle. “Then my lady best let me dress and prepare for my match. I appreciate your candor and will do my best to make you proud.”

  He’s definitely afraid of her.

  Feet shuffle across the floor and the door shuts with a soft thud. I peek out then emerge from my hiding spot and quickly don my robe.

  When Helveticus does not immediately return, I glance at the window. A sheet of papyrus paper and a light gauzy cloth covers the opening. I’ll fit, but it will be a tight squeeze. Giggles from the next room tell me he may not be back for a while, the man-slut.

  I’m about halfway, having just wriggled and cajoled my breasts through, when I hear, “Oh, no you don’t!” The voice’s female owner seizes my legs and pulls. Hard.

  Bracing my arms against the exterior wall gives me leverage. I am able to kick my feet to free them from my attacker. So long as she doesn’t glimpse my face, I still have a chance. I wriggle forward and make a hair’s breadth of progress only to be jerked backwards. My breasts are my last line of defense. If they go back through, so will I. Kicking no longer works because the grip on my legs is unyielding. I would swear they are Helveticus’s hands, except they don’t circle as much of my ankles as when he had me in that one weird but totally hot position earlier.

  Arguing voices, both booming and screeching, continue inside the bedroom. I remain quiet, not wanting to attract the attention of passers-by who might rat me out for the tiniest of boons, especially from the goddess of chance.

  Suddenly, the window enlarges to twice its normal size, and I’m plucked inside and tossed on my ass. How did that happen? I hastily tuck my breasts back inside my gown to correct the disrobing caused by the tug of war.

  “The succubus! I knew it! Motherfucker! I knew you were lying.”

  “Tyche, calm yourself! Look what you did to my window! Any passing thief can rob me!” Helveticus says.

  “I’ll fix your damned window right after I curse this bitch who dares to touch what is mine!”

  She raises her arms, her hair standing on its ends as she does. A gust of wind whistles in through the enlarged window opening, now door-sized. The wind grows fiercer as it whips around the bedroom, taking on a life of its own—a wind sprite. The sprite is probably another poor sucker who owes Tyche a favor.

  “Stop it!” Helveticus yells over the roar. “Take your wrath out on me, not her. She is only here because I tricked her, to hedge my bet. I knew Aphrodite chose her for a reason. I was trying to discover what that reason was.”

  The wind sprite tries to blow up my gown, the pervert, but I slam down the fabric before he can lift it much higher than my knees.

  “Hedge your bet? A second ago you were concerned about fighting a woman and blaming me! Now you say you knew all along Aphrodite rigged the lottery to choose this one. Are you playing me for a fool?”

  You and me both, Tyche!

  They stare at each other silently for a second. Tyche’s eyes widen and her mouth falls open. “You double-dealing bastard! Tell me everything or the succubus dies!” In a softer, but far more menacing voice, she adds, “And you’ll go into the arena against her second wearing my curse.”

  Helveticus glances my way and sighs. “Alright. I’ll tell you. But let her go first. She’s nothing more than the spoils of a deal with Aphrodite. She’ll be dead, or wish she were, soon enough.”

  The breeze lessens in intensity as the sprite pulls himself into a tiny cyclone and makes a beeline for the bodice of my gown. His breath is like ice and my nipples harden. A soft chortle rumbles through the room as the sprite spins outside through the doorway Tyche made. I have never been a fan of the elementals.

  Hands on her hips, Tyche locks her malevolent green eyes with mine. She jerks her head toward the door. “Get out! Now! Before I change my mind and curse you, too!”

  I’m so confused. I don’t understand Helveticus’s plottings, but it sure seems like I’m going to come out the loser. Just when I thought he might actually be a nice guy.

  I scramble to my feet and scurry home to suit up for battle. If I’m headed for the underworld, I don’t want to be dead when I get there. The last thing I want is to be passed around amongst Hades’ minions as soon as I arrive. That’s how they treat soulless succubi in his domain.

  ***

  Helios with his solar steeds and flaming chariot passes overhead on his daily trek to the west, signaling the start of the ceremonies. Drums beat out a primitive tattoo and incite the gathered crowd of nearly five thousand to stomp their feet in rhythm. The annual duel is the hottest event of the games, and people throw chariot-gate picnics and don the odd costumes to enhance the festivities. I would have been one of them, but this year I’m a combatant. This is what I’ve always wanted. I just wish my opponent wasn’t nearly six and half feet tall, with biceps as thick as my thighs and a libido not only able to withstand my charms but to enslave them. I also wish I understood what plottings between Helveticus and Aphrodite were afoot.

  Both Helveticus and I wear leather armor. We each possess a broad sword, a chain and a shield.

  The announcer introduces each of us, prompting equally loud cheers. I focus on cobbling together whatever scraps of strategy I can find. I’m not a fighter; I’m a lover. I’m also not a quitter, and Hades, who hates pansy-types, will be watching

  The trumpe
ts signal the start of our match. We’ll have ten minutes to battle before we’ll be sent to neutral stations for the judging to occur if both fighters are still standing.

  “Surrender and this will go much easier for you,” Helveticus says as we square off.

  “Why should I trust you? You’ve done nothing but lie to me since the beginning.” I dash in swinging my sword at him but he easily parries my attempt and sends me flying to my knees.

  “Because you can’t beat me in a fight.” He paces nearby but doesn’t attack, despite the heckling from the crowd. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

  I scramble to my feet in time to avoid the downward stab his sword, which would have missed me anyway. What sort of theatrics is he playing at?

  “I’m welcome for what?” I ask.

  “For saving your ass from Tyche.”

  I blow out a puff of audible disbelief. “Seemed more like you were saving your own ass, long enough to fight a girl for your freedom. Arrogant coward! I won’t be beaten so easily!”

  We continue to circle each other. The crowd’s whistles and boos grow louder.

  Helveticus roars and tosses his sword to the ground, mocking my ability to challenge him. The crowd laughs, stoking my ire.

  “I was going to be chosen no matter what ticket I held. Tyche promised me that,” he says. A second later, he rushes to tackle me, but I deftly sidestep him, and he stumbles. Talk about bad acting. He quickly regains his feet, a sneer on his lips. “Aphrodite chose you because someone persuaded her.”

  “Persuaded her? How did you do that? Did you sleep with her?” Sensing he’s momentarily distracted by his confession, I charge in with my sword. He grabs a handful of dirt and tosses it into my face, blinding me enough to foil my aim.

  “Actually, I didn’t.” He dives and seizes his chain and shield. ”I’m not that kind of guy. Someone else convinced Aphrodite she could settle her debt to you for landing you in this place and offer you as a concubine to curry favor with Hades. Win-win for her.”

  “And for you!” I bite out as I swing my sword in a wide arc toward his midsection. He deflects the blow with his shield. “But I’ll play along. If you didn’t convince her to choose me, who did?”

  He snorts and begins to whirl his chain over his head. “Who would gain from your absence? Who wants more than anything else to be the most beautiful creature in Sisyphus Prison? Who pushed you into my path?”

  An invisible hand grips my throat and heart and squeezes. “Narcissus?”

  Chapter Five

  “Narcissus made a deal with Aphrodite to get rid of me?” I choke out.

  “It had to be him. He somehow knew Tyche had already promised me one of the spots—”

  “Tyche’s sister, Nemesis, told him!” Narcissus’s end game starts to take on greater clarity. “He deliberately pitted me against you? I can’t believe he’d do that to me!”

  “Why do you think he sent you over to swap tickets with me? He knew I’d be chosen no matter what.” Helveticus lowers his arm, the spinning arc out to his side.

  I wrack my brain but the betrayal is too raw, too fresh, and Helveticus is still swinging that damned chain. “I don’t know!”

  “He thought he was giving you a chance to beat me, by seducing me, by draining me. That is what you had planned, right?”

  The grip on my throat loosens, and I take a shaky breath. “Narce thought he was helping me?”

  He nods and swings the chain at me, but misses by a wide margin. The crowd boos, obviously not fooled by his lame attempt.

  “I doubt he had much trouble convincing Aphrodite of his scheme,” he says, increasing the speed of his whirling weapon.

  Helveticus and I circle each other warily. I suppose he’s comfortable telling me all this because he has the upper hand when it comes to physical combat. The advantage Narce thought I had disappeared the moment Helveticus told me who he was, who his mother was.

  “I don’t want to go to the underworld, to Hades.” My voice is small and shaky. I don’t want to lose my composure. If I do, I might as well lay down all my weapons and swap one prison for another: the devil I know for the devil I don’t.

  “It’s better than here,” he says. “Surrender and you can negotiate a deal like Demeter did for Persephone, go above ground for a few months every year. Hades will only want a few souls in return. Isn’t that what you did before you came here, anyway? Collected souls for him in exchange for sex with their mortal owners?”

  “Yes and no. I worked for one of his underlings.” I suppose Hades might be open to a bit of negotiation. I always did love my job before losing it once I landed in Sisyphus.

  Just as I’ve almost rationalized my loss, Helveticus releases his chain in a wide-sweeping arc near my legs. Though his aim is low and I jump in time to avoid the brunt of the impact, my heel suffers a graze. The crowd cheers my maneuver and begins a clapping, chanting cry. I’d be happier if my foot didn’t smart like a Promethean liver at sunset. Damn him! He needs to at least hurt a little before I give up.

  “Are you done playing?” His helmet mostly hides his face but not enough to hide the thin line his lips form.

  “Not until I’ve beaten you.”

  When our circling continues too long, the crowd again voices its disapproval.

  “If one of us does not draw blood soon, they’ll send in our seconds. Have you seen mine?” he asks.

  I haven’t. I don’t even know who my second is. I’m sure they introduced us, but my head apparently did not register his identity or his fighting abilities.

  Helveticus charges. I throw up my shield and ready my sword, a useless move because he barrels into me, knocking me to the ground. I lose my grip on my sword when I’m hit. Tossing his shield and chain aside, he dives forward and pins me down, manacling both of my wrists above my head.

  “Signal your surrender and stop playing around! It’s a good plan, better than rotting in this place! I’ll even help you negotiate.” His face is close to mine, the lushness of his mouth a sensuous counterpart to the masculine planes of brow and cheeks.

  “Why would you do that?” An irrational urge to kiss away the tenseness in his stubborn jaw fights its way past my preservation instincts. I shift beneath him.

  The movement provokes a small smile. He’s mocking me. The bastard is erect and poking me with his male weaponry. He might be Lilith’s son and have a way with women, but two can play at that game. I blast a mega dose of pheromones his way and struggle to free myself. His arousal hardens and grows. Good!

  “Do not bring your sex tricks into this battle, Willow. You want to incite me into raping you in front of this crowd?” He snarls his words at me, our helmets bumping at the foreheads.

  “It’s not rape if I orchestrate it.” I squirm and undulate beneath him.

  His breath hitches and his hips slowly grind against mine. “Maybe the crowd expects it.”

  “Maybe they do,” I spit out, hoping he takes my challenge, hoping the observers and judges realize I’m a succubus and can wield sex as a soldier wields a knife.

  The crowd roars louder, savage and bloodthirsty.

  We stare at each other.

  He releases my hands, and pressing his full weight on me, he rips off his helmet and throws it down. I mimic his movement.

  I can’t make out the spectators’ chants at first until a smile curls Helveticus’s lips into an archer’s bow, taut with merriment at my expense.

  “Choose your method of defeat. Either way, I will impale you, but remember, Hades is watching.” A snicker escapes those lips, and his tongue slips out to wet them.

  The words are clear now. “Fuck-her, fuck-her, fuck-her!”

  Do I want Hades to see what I can do or not? “I…” I can’t think, damn him! He’s fogged my brain with his scent, but I’ve driven him to this point. “I don’t—”

  He makes the decision for me and rips the hem of my short gown away from me. The linens I’ve wrapped around my hips, he tears through as i
f no more substantial than a spider’s web.

  My impetuous hands drop and fumble with the loincloth he wears beneath his tunic. The heat of his cock draws my hand to seize it in a tight grip. Wetness floods the space between my legs. Gods help me, I want him, it. Here. Now.

  “Let me inside you,” he rasps. He’s offering me the choice, not using his superior strength against me, strength that could easily take versus receive.

  “Who wins if I do?” I’m honestly not sure, but my legs part and make space, hips angling up to receive him. My body has apparently chosen for me. Traitor!

  He positions the head of his cock at my entrance and pauses. The chanting grows louder. Helveticus gives an answering shout and shoves forward. He starts thrusting and grunting like a lust-crazed brute, all rough and filthy, and I love it.

  But I don’t want to be on my back, rutting in the dirt. With new found strength, I roll him off me. He slips out but pulls me on top, my legs astride his hips. I rise and nestle the head of his cock between my pussy lips. With a glorious battle cry, I descend, bottoming out with his thick length stretching and filling me. Two can play at his game. Undulating motions take over. The crowd’s chants change to “Fuck-him, fuck-him, fuck-him!”

  Helveticus grips my hips and moves beneath me, meeting me thrust for thrust. “Surrender,” he growls, and I want to laugh.

  “You surrender!” I increase the pace of my movements and watch his eyes roll back in their sockets.

  He says no more; his breath comes too quickly to afford him that luxury.

  I plant my hands on his chest and ride him, my mighty stallion. His fingers flex and release, and the muscles in his neck grow taut. Every part of him tenses. The veins in his neck bulge and his skin flushes. He’s close.

  “Ah, ah fuuu-uck!” He thrusts upward, nearly unseating me as he bows his back off the ground, shuddering as he comes.

  But I’m not finished with him yet. I continue to work his turgid length seeking my own climax. I show him no mercy just as he showed me no mercy earlier in his bed.

  Faster I move, my moans turning into breathy pants. He feels so fucking good. Whether due to him or the presence of an audience, no sexual encounter has ever, in my life been so charged with anticipation.