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Seductress
Erotic Tales of Immortal Desire
By D. L. King Cleis Press
Copyright © 2012 D. L. King
All right reserved. ISBN: 9781573448192
# 2
A Surprising Summons
Kaysee Renee Robichaud
When Konstantin's clumsy spell craft called her from the pit, the succubus did not expect to find herself confronted with the most unusual summons of her one hundred years. She clawed her way across the void and through the gauzy veils between her home plane and the mortal world.
The year was 1988. The city was a sprawling metropolis named for a long forgotten duke. As she entered the world, Loreline found herself bombarded with wails. The mortals screamed about wars and increasing prices, scandals and poverty, starvation and all the same things they always bemoaned. She materialized inside a chalked circle, in a cramped studio apartment overlooking streets, trees and other anthill-like dwellings.
Konstantin was a lean man with curly hair and a trim patch under his lip. He wore loose, shiny pants and nothing else. His chest was toned, his belly almost nonexistent beneath a six pack. He was thirty six years old, a social smoker and lonely.
The last was a given. All mortals who called succubi were lonely.
Sifting through his surface thoughts, she found all she needed to assume the desired form. A nineteen year old girl, broad hips, and blue-green eyes and round cheeks, bookish though intense. She added a few touches from his darker desires, black hair, an indeterminate eastern Eurotrash accent and full lips. For a wardrobe, she fashioned spidery framed glasses and an arterial red gown, slit high along her thigh.
He smiled when he saw her. Smug, unfazed, unsurprised. Bastard, she thought. I will enjoy taking your essence.
"Welcome to my sanctum," he said.
"Thank you for having me," she said. The words were right there in his thoughts, and he approved of the accent, which turned having into havink. It all seemed rather prosaic, but the summoner's desires were key. "You vant to let me out of this, yes?"
He spoke the three charms, and Loreline pouted.
"Protections, now? Vere," she asked, "is your sense of adventure?"
"Safely subservient to my self-preservation."
She smiled. "I like men who understand subservience."
He blushed at this. Blushed! Not so smug now, are you? With a wave, the barrier around his summoning circle vanished, and she emerged. The three-inch steel heels on her conjured black leather ankle boots clicked like switchblades.
"You're amazing," he said and then shook his head at his own idiocy.
It was almost cute. She smiled at him, and said, "You don't need to woo me, mage. I'm here, your bed is there and your desires are plain." In fact, he was thinking about the way her gown would slide down her shoulders; about the revelations to come: the soft skin of her breasts, the goose pimples on her areolae and her firm nipples, the smooth flesh of her stomach and everything lower . . .
She raised her fingers to her shoulder and snapped, as though undoing a button. The fabric dropped with a flourish.
His eyes considered the crimson pool suddenly surrounding her boots. He knelt, then, rubbing the gown between his thumbs and fingers. "It feels so real," he said. Another surprise. Wasn't he inflamed with lust? No other man she had come to had paused for niceties.
His eyes roamed up from the conjured cloth to her boots to her calves, past her knees, to her pale thighs. His gaze lingered on her dark pubic bush for a moment, before meandering higher, past her slightly round belly and full breasts, all the way to her imperious eyes.
She reached down and tousled his thick hair. It was a spontaneous gesture, not something plucked from his thoughts, and yet he responded to it with a soft, pleased sigh. Men throughout the ages had responded to such acts; even the worst of them--the most ambitious or the most corrupt--wanted something tangible to remind them of simpler times. A maternal demonstration.
After a moment, though, she caught his hair in a fist and turned his face to her groin. "Tongue out," she said and spread her legs enough for him to catch her scent. "Taste me." She eased closer, until her sex moistened his nose and lips and then his tongue. .
He dropped her dress and reached up, catching her ass with both hands. She made all the sounds he expected, enticing him further.
He assumed control then. Pulled her to the floor and fumbled his shiny pants open and down. Three kicks freed the right leg. A squirm and shove freed the left. His cock was firm, slender but long with a curve to the left. He kissed her body, attentive to her shoulders, neck and lips, but shy about suckling her bosom. He was eager, though, to kiss her belly and lower. She eased her legs over his shoulders, when he slid low enough. He nibbled the insides of her thighs. He brushed the tip of his nose across her pubic hair and then spread her sex with one hand to best lick her clit. His fingers found their way inside and stroked, probed, delved, explored.
When Konstantin's mouth returned to her conjured sex, Loreline moved in time with him, exhaling and growling—but not for show, she realized with a start.
When she squeezed her thighs around this man's head, when she caressed her own material form, when the electric sensations evoked smiles and warmed her, these were real responses.
Succubi were not wholly physical. They were beings of passion and energy who could adopt physical forms as desired. There was little about nerves or sensation to the forms. They responded instead to less tangible sensations. As talented as Konstantin's fingers or mouth might be, his real strength lay in his passion. It was strong, and brilliant as the sun.
He moved her legs farther apart, panting for more. Rising, he pulled her to her feet. He led her to the bed, and there he eased atop her, whispering almost loving words before his cock spread her pussy's lips and entered. She clutched at him, her nails growing to points to better scratch him. He whimpered, but did not stop. In fact, this drove him faster still. She stoked the fires in his heart and head and loins, and bathed Loreline in radiant glory.
His dick trembled before his seed flowed into her, transformed and transferred into her ethereal phylactery as soon as it slipped from him, release contorting his face. Unlike the many times she had witnessed such expressions, she did not laugh.
She was too busy being swept away by the tsunami of his climax. It was unlike anything she had experienced before. Intensity close to pain. Her eyes squeezed shut to block out excess perceptions, but this did nothing to steal the intensity.
Across three delicious seconds, her body dispersed and resolidified half a dozen times. And when she returned, her face was wet.
Konstantin leaned back to kneel between her legs. "Are you," he asked, between gulped breaths, "all right?" The rolling sweat made his chest shine.
She shook her head No. When he asked what was wrong, she had no words to explain.How could she explain a succubus was not supposed to be able to orgasm?
The typical summoners were burnt out men, obsessed with their tiny fleshy bits and their own mortality. They were power seekers and explorers whose passions for sex played a subservient role to other desires. So little usable passion blazed in those men and women, Loreline had long decided orgasms were a myth. Even Crowley, the great pervert, had been too distracted to bring her to climax.
But Konstantin was not distracted. Konstantin was a world away from her expectations. His inherent wrongness somehow made the experience right.
"Why did you summon me?"
Now, it was his turn to lose words. His thoughts were a jumble. Loneliness and eagerness and wonder and pain. This same cocktail drove all sorcerers, great ones and dabblers, alike. Konstantin was not special. Konstantin was just as human and frail and weak as every other man she had been with. Yet, he was also unlike them . . .
Continues...
Excerpted from Seductress by D. L. King Copyright © 2012 by D. L. King. Excerpted by permission.
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