"My kind can sense a human's lust. We feed on it, but do not know it. You have taught me to know it, and for that I will make you mine and give you pleasure wherever and whenever I will it," he whispered.
His words excited my body. He bent down and captured my lips in a kiss that swept my breath away. Tingles of warmth swept through me and swept away any doubts, any hesitations, and all inhibitions. My breasts strained against my blouse, and somehow the buttons on my shirt unbuttoned themselves. My blouse burst open and my heated skin was bared to the world.
His hands took turns at my breasts, massaging me into an unfulfilled ecstasy of delight and demand. I squirmed and groaned. The heat inside me was unbearable and incomplete. I wanted him-no, needed him inside me. Every part of me strained to feel him take me again and again atop the silken sheets.
My lover's breaths came out in sharp, hoarse gasps. He rose above me and looked down at me with red eyes that swallowed me in their sensual depths. "You will be mine and mine alone," he growled.
He dove at me and our clothes fell away as though magic had torn them off our bodies. He pressed his hot skin against mine and thrust himself into me, taking me as his own as our bodies became one. I gasped and moaned as he penetrated me again and again, each thrust building up the delicious tension contained inside my body. I longed for fulfillment, for the bliss or completion. He grunted and thrust deeper when I wrapped my legs around him, allowing him more of me.
My moans filled the quiet air as my muscles tensed and strained, pleading to finish and yet dreading the fall back to cold reality, to normalcy. My body felt thrust into a pool of heat that drenched me in lustful waves of desire. Every movement, every touch was delicious torture. I clutched onto him wishing I could always feel this way. I wanted to drown in this heat and never be separated from him.
"Beautiful lust," he growled into my ear.
"More," I moaned in reply. "Oh god, please more."
My wish was his command and he wrapped his arms around me to press me closer to his strong chest. Our bodies were as one, connected at the hips and a part of this lustful union that demanded satisfaction, and yet dreaded it. The tension couldn't last. The strain was too great, and soon the waves crashed over me, filling me with a warmth that threatened to sweep me into its arms forever. I cried out my pleasure to the darkness around us as he thrust again and again into me, pushing me further into the abyss of lust.
Nothing lasts forever, and this was no exception. The warmth faded, my muscles relaxed, and I felt the lust recede. I cried out in disappointment and fear as the afterglow left me and my eyes saw only darkness, but a quiet voice hushed me.
"Not yet, my beautiful one, but soon," I heard his voice whisper. "For now just sleep."
And I knew no more.
Chapter 7
That is, until I heard my voice shouted nearby. "Oh my god! Liz!" I heard Tiffany cry out.
I opened my heavy eyelids and was presented with a view of a lovely alley. Gone was the bedroom scene, and my lover, but back was my clothes, albeit a little ruffled as though I slept in them, and a little stained because of the damp alley. There was a thin layer of snow over me. Tiffany stood in the mouth of the alley, and in a moment my friend's shadow fell over me. She knelt by my side and looked me over.
"Are you hurt? What happened?" she asked me.
I shook my head, but that only made me dizzy. The light-headed feeling hadn't quite worn off yet. "I-I don't know. I thought I saw that guy and I followed him into the store, and then-" My mind remembered the details of the encounter and shut my mouth up as my cheeks reddened. "And I'm not sure. I guess I must have been daydreaming and walked into the alley and fell or something."
"Or something? Liz, hurrying after a strange guy and walking into an alley doesn't sound like it's just a 'something,'" Tiffany argued.
"I'm fine, really," I countered. I tried to stand, but my jello legs wobbled and toppled beneath my weight.
Tiffany caught me under the arms and glared at me. "Fine, huh?" she wondered.
I sheepishly grinned at her. "Maybe it was the Italian food," I suggested.
"Oh no, you're not blaming the Italians nation on your stupidity," she argued.
"Well, whatever it is I don't think I can stand, at least not yet," I told her.
Tiffany glanced around at the beautiful decor. Rats, trash, dark-brown puddles. It was all the usual trappings of a five-trash can alley. "Oh no, we're not staying here," she insisted. She slung one of my arms across her shoulders and hefted me to my feet. "You know, I'm getting really tired of carrying people like this," she quipped.
"Believe me, I'm not happy to be doing this, either," I returned. Tiffany escorted me out of the alley and around the corner to the front of the abandoned furniture store. I dug my heels into the ground and pointed at the darkened windows. "This is the store I walked into! He was in there!" I told her.
Tiffany glanced at the dank, dusty displays, and raised an eyebrow. "You went in there?"
"Well, he went in there and the door was unlocked, so I followed him," I explained.
"Let me see," she replied. She directed us toward the door and tried the handle. It didn't budge. "Well, it looks like it's shut now," she commented.
My shoulders sagged and Tiffany grunted as I added more weight to her load. "Well, they weren't locked earlier," I insisted.
"We'll check it out later. For now let's get you home," she suggested.
Tiffany got us back to the block where she'd parked her car. We were given a few strange looks, but like in most cities people assumed we were strange and left us alone. After a few minutes we reached the car. Tiffany shoved me into the passenger seat and took her own behind the wheel.
Tiffany turned to me with a deep frown and a heaving chest. Neither of us was entirely in shape. "Hospital or home?" she asked me.
"Home. I'm not dying," I replied.
She looked me up and down. "No, but you can't walk and you said you were having hallucinations about that guy," she pointed out.
"It was not an hallucination, I really did see him," I protested. "You must have seen him, too. He passed right by our window."
Tiffany raised an eyebrow and slowly shook her head. "Nope."
"Well, maybe you weren't looking."
"I was. He didn't pass by. Besides, didn't you say you followed him into the store, and I found you in the alley?" she reminded me.
Okay, things were getting too strange. I slid down in my seat and rubbed my temple. "You know what, I don't know what's going on, but a little sleep will go a long way, so can we please go home?" I pleaded with her.
Tiffany sighed, but started the engine and directed the car in the direction of our apartment building. "I still think you should go see someone," she muttered.
"I'll think about it," I replied.
I didn't have any intention of seeing a shrink because my mind was rummaging through my memories, or hallucinations, or whatever they were, and finding pieces to this strange puzzle. The man, incu-thingy, whatever he was, told me he wasn't natural, that he was a creature of lust. Either my mind was really horny and was actually giving me hallucinations of sexual encounters with a stranger, or something happened and I was the victim of a weird, supernatural creature. If it was the first suggestion then I couldn't help myself, but if I believed the part about him being real and a monster then I needed my computer and a couple of cokes to get me through a long night of research.
The night was still relatively young when Tiffany and I rode the elevator to our floor. My legs were no longer shaky, but Tiffany's faith in my being alone was experiencing earthquake-size tremors. "You want me to stay with you tonight?" she suggested as we stepped out of the elevator.
I shook my head. I didn't need any help for what I needed to do. "No, I'll be fine." She looked at me with a mixture of pity and doubt, and I rolled my eyes. "I'm only having one of these hallucinations a day, at most, and today's been taken," I pointed out.
She was only
slightly consoled. "All right, I'll leave you alone, but lock yourself in your bedroom if you have to," she suggested. Little did she know how safe a place that was for my hallucinations.
I plastered a fake smile on my lips. "Sure thing," I agreed.
We parted ways and I hurried to my apartment. It was silence and dark when I entered, but a few minutes later there were lights and my computer was working its magic trying to find info on this incu-thingy he mentioned being. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but only in reference to some old band. I hadn't realized it actually meant something until my search results came back with, well, results.
I sat down at my computer chair with a pop in hand and peered at the screen. The first result was a definition. "'An incubus is an imaginary demon or evil spirit supposed to descend upon sleeping persons, especially one fabled to have sexual intercourse with women during their sleep,'" I read aloud. I leaned back and the color drained from my face. If that wasn't what had enticed me into that creepy, dusty old furniture store then I don't know what was. I could strike the imaginary part out and put an emphasis on the sexual intercourse.
Now that I had my creature, I wanted to find out how worried I should be about his infatuation with me. After a bit more searching I found an article on the subject of incubus, and the pop can in my hand violently shook. I read aloud the contents just to make sure I wasn't imagining the words.
"'An incubus may pursue sexual relations with a woman in order to father a child. Religious tradition holds that repeated sexual activity with an incubus or succubus may result in the deterioration of health, or even death,'" I whispered. I leaned back in my chair and gulped. Loudly. As flattered as I was that I'd been chosen as a bride to an immortal creature, this wasn't exactly my idea of how I was going to die. There were worse ways, but I figured I was a little too young to be going anywhere.
I stood and paced the room, taking periodic swigs of my caffeinated drink. This was just too much. This was insane. Hell, maybe I was insane. Maybe I needed to take a step back and reevaluated my mental well-being. Maybe I needed to stop making a hole in the carpet, and take a breath. After all, I didn't have proof either way that I was hallucinating or that I was being pursued by a creature bent on having sex with me until I died.
I stopped my pacing and rubbed the back of my neck. My fingers bumped into something that my hair covered. I frowned and rubbed the spot. It seemed to be a slight depression in my skin. I hurried to the bathroom and glanced in the mirror. My eyes widened when I beheld the marks of a pair of lips on my flesh. The marks were small, as though the lips had given the barest touch, but it was definitely lips. I could see the swirls of the prints, and there was a top and bottom separated by a thin line of my flesh.
I admit my first reaction of panic wasn't such a great idea, especially when I dropped my pop in the sink and flung myself at my medicine cabinet and bathroom supplies. I grabbed every available bit of soap, shampoo, skin lotion and moisturizer, and applied with diligent, if reckless, enthusiasm. The result was my skin was rubbed raw by the numerous chemicals and countless hand clothes used to scrub said chemicals into the flesh. Yet the mark still remained. If I wasn't a believer in what happened to me before, I sure as hell was now.
I slumped down onto the toilet and clutched my head in my hands. "This can't be happening. This can't be happening," I repeated over and over, hoping that by clicking those shoes I could go back home to normalcy.
No such luck, and to make matters worse my neck was really sore. I had to think of a way out of this. I just needed to stay calm, lock myself in my apartment all weekend long, and see if something came to me. That would solve all my problems.
Or at least I hoped so.
Chapter 8
I didn't get much sleep that Friday night as I researched ways to free myself of his influence. My only leads were for some gypsy woman downtown who worked on the side as a caterer, and a clown who advertised himself as a cure for poltergeists. At the early hours I collapsed on the couch, defeated, and somehow slipped into slumber. Maybe it was the physical exhaustion from my sexual escapade, or maybe it was the mental weariness, but whatever it was I was awoken by a loud pounding on my apartment door. I sat up and realized I lay on the couch with a plunger in one hand and another empty pop can in the other. The pop can was the remains of my effort to stay awake, and the plunger was the only weapon I owned.
There came another round of pounding at the door. "Liz? Liz, you in there?" Tiffany called from the other side.
"Yeah, one sec," I replied. I tossed aside my strange assortment of weapons and stimulants, and hurried to open the door.
Tiffany stood on the other side with a worried and vexed expression on her face. "How come you didn't answer sooner?" she asked me.
I shrugged. "Because I just woke up?" I told her.
She glanced down at my ragged clothes. I still wore the same alley-filthy outfit as last night. "Why didn't you change?" she questioned me.
I looked down at myself and sheepishly grinned. "Um, because I was-um, busy?" I suggested.
Tiffany crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Those were the warning signs that told me she was going into her mothering mode. She rarely entered this mode, only when she thought I was being stupid and reckless enough to need someone to rein me in. This happened about once every blue moon, so I was a little cowed by her grim, stern face. "Busy doing what?" she wondered.
"Um, research?" I admitted. There was no use hiding the truth. She would worm it out of me through her Evil Eye.
"Research on what?" she persisted.
"On-um, on incubus?"
"Why?"
"Because."
"Because why?"
"Because I think that's what the guy is who I've been obsessing over."
Tiffany's face fell along with her mouth. "What the hell are you talking about?" she asked me.
I sighed and stepped aside. "It's a long story, so you may as well come inside," I invited her. Tiffany walked in and made herself comfortable on the couch. I sat down beside her and kicked aside the plunger on the floor. "Last night when I told you I thought I went into a store following that guy, I really think I did go in there. I met him in the back corner, and we-well, we made love."
Tiffany's eyes widened. "Seriously?" she asked me.
I gave a nod. "Yeah, seriously. He told me he was an incubus and that he was immortal."
Her eyebrows went so high they disappeared beneath her bangs. "Uh-huh, and then what?"
"Well, we made out and I woke up in the alley with you calling my name," I finished.
"So you-you really think this guy's a succubus?" she wondered.
"An incubus. Succubus are the girls," I corrected her.
"So you really think this guy you're obsessing over is some sort of a demon?" she rephrased.
I cringed, but nodded. "Yeah," I replied.
Tiffany looked at me a moment longer before she stood and offered me her hand. "Come on, we're leaving."
I blinked at her. "Leaving? Why?"
"You need to go see a shrink, or at least get your blood checked to see if you've been doing drugs," she explained.
I scowled at her and jumped to my feet. "I am not insane and I don't do drugs! I really did meet him there, and he really did tell me he was an incubus!" I argued.
"I know, and that's why you need to go see a shrink," she insisted.
She patted me on the shoulder, but I brushed away her hand. "I am not making this stuff up, and neither is my brain. I really did see him pass by our window at the restaurant, and I really did meet him in that store by the alley." My eyes lit up as I recalled my late-night discovery. "Here! I can prove he touched me!" I brushed away my hair and turned so she could see the mark.
Tiffany leaned toward me and squinted her eyes. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"The mark! The mark on my-" My fingers brushed against the spot and I felt only soft, unblemished skin. I frowned and frantically pressed my hand against
the entirety of my neck. Nothing. "It was there last night! Kiss marks from where he'd marked me!" I insisted.
"Liz, there's nothing there," Tiffany told me.
I hated the gentle calm in her voice. It was as though she was treating me like a child, or an insane adult. I was neither, but I didn't exactly take her doubt maturely. I jumped to my feet and pointed at the door. "Out!" I ordered her.
"Come on, Liz, don't be like that. I only want to help you," she countered.
"No, you're trying to relocate me to a padding cell and exchange my wardrobe with a white jacket, now out," I insisted.
"Liz, I'm being serous-"
"So am I, now out." I shooed her toward the door and she reluctantly backed up.
Tiffany stepped out into the hall, but stopped and frowned at me. "Fine, have it your way, but you'll regret it!" she proclaimed.
"Uh-huh, I'll call you after my madness is over," I promised as I shut the door.
Her hand came out and grasped the side of the door before I could shut it, and she peeked her head inside. Gone was the angry looks and back was the pity party. "Seriously, call me later," she pleaded.
I sighed and felt a little bit of my anger and frustration drain from me. "I guess, but not until I figure a few things out, like how to get out of a straight jacket," I told her.
Tiffany snorted, gave me a thumbs up, and walked away. I closed the door and leaned my back against the entrance. What a great start to a day. I slid my hand down my face and groaned. Maybe Tiffany was right, maybe I was hallucinating. If anything these were some great hallucinations, but my mind couldn't shake the thought that what I knew was real and the rest of the world was nuts, or at least not believing the truth.
Well, with knowledge comes truth, and I stocked up on knowledge about these incubus monsters and the rest of my day was spent researching incubus. All I found was more of the same. They were horny demons who came to people in their dreams to have sexual intercourse with them. Not much more than that, and very few remedies against their attacks. There was the usual wearing-a-cross suggestion, but I didn't have one so I fashioned a cross out of a couple of toothpicks and glue. Not too convincing, but maybe it would keep him from killing me from pleasure.