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Dance of the Succubus
For the sake of the perfect sin, would you risk eternal damnation?
“You like that, huh?”
Cecily rocked her body against the man of the moment, his hands palmed around her hips. Even as he guided her with every stroke, she already found herself bored with him. He wasn’t the most inspirational lover she’d ever had.
“Oh, yeah,” the guy said, and she nearly rolled her eyes. As small groans started to fall from his lips, she found herself less than enthused to fabricate her own exhalations of a nearing climax. Even as a third-tier demon whose primary source of energy came from intercourse, it was all too common in this fuck-fast-and-furious world of today that succubi and incubi came away less than satisfied with their conquests.
“Oh, God, oh, God,” her less-than-useful lover sputtered, and she had half an urge to stifle his moans with one well-placed hand. But she pretended — though it made her burn inside to do so — that she was just as lost in ecstasy as she continued to crest and fall in her movements.
By the time his last tremors spluttered, she pressed her hand against his chest and pushed off of him. He didn’t even seem to notice. Maybe she should have been glad — men tended to get chatty at this stage of the game — but she was already feeling cranky because…
