Her Incubus Master (The Children of Lilith) (11 page)

It felt...nice. But she couldn't seem to stop shaking. Or
crying.

He held her for a long time, his skin warm against hers now,
while she wept and sobbed and tried futilely to regain some control.

"Just one more thing," Andras said, some time
later, when she finally managed to stop crying.

"Sure, what?" Katie asked, eagerly. Her voice
sounded husky from all the crying, and she was sure that her face was a
reddened, blotchy mess.

"I want you to kneel and apologize to me." Andras'
tone was implacable as his fingers tightened on her shoulders.  

"I want you to kneel and apologize to me."

Andras stared down at her with his intense green gaze.
Though his true form looked alien, with gray skin, dark gray lips and nipples,
he was still a gorgeous man, tall and muscular. And his eyes were a beautiful
glass-green, fringed with long black lashes, and cat-like with slit pupils.

And he had
wings!
Katie longed to touch them again,
to run her fingers over the smooth gray feathers.

She nodded and sank slowly to her knees. Her ass still hurt,
but she felt weirdly good, relaxed and almost high.

"I'm really sorry I broke my promise to you,
Andras," she said, addressing his bare feet. They were large and
high-arched.

"Do you promise not to do it again?" he asked.

"I promise!" she said, glad he was giving her
another chance, after she'd screwed up so badly.

She looked up and found the bulge in his jeans right at eye
level.

God, she wanted him! Wanted to talk to him, wanted to kiss
him. Wanted very badly to fuck him.

In the weeks that they'd been dating, he'd done nearly
everything to her except fuck her. He'd given her more orgasms than she'd ever
had in her life, but she'd never seen him come.

"Andras?" she asked. "Can I--?" She
placed her palm lightly over the hard mound of his erection.

She felt him twitch under her touch.

"Only if you tell me what you want," he said,
harshly. "Only if you beg me for it."

Katie blinked. She was naked and kneeling in front of him.
How much clearer did she have to be?

Okay, if that's how he wants to play it...
She swayed
forward and put her face against his groin, sliding her hands around to his
tight ass, and pressed her breasts against his legs.

"I
really
want to give you a blow job,
Andras," she said, softly, rubbing her cheek against the front of his
jeans, caressing the rock-hard length that pressed against the thick fabric. "I
want to," her face grew hot, "unbutton your jeans, suck your cock and
make you come."

Okay, that sounded like something out of a porn movie
,
she thought. But then again, she
was
naked, on her knees, and rubbing
herself against him...

He was silent, but she felt every muscle in his body tense
up. Beneath her cheek, she felt his cock move a little, as if he'd just gotten
harder.

Time to play dirty.
"Please, sir? Please?"

He actually groaned, and she felt her own arousal climb
another notch. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," she assured him, already fumbling to
unfasten his jeans.

She pushed them down over his hips, then stopped to look.

He was hung like a stallion. At close range, his cock looked
inhumanly huge. It was uncut and rigid and pressed tight against his lower belly.

"Oh my God," she said, lamely.

"Katie?" He actually sounded shy. And a little
worried.  

"Now I know why you've been using that extra-large toy
on me," she quipped. "It's all been a training exercise, hasn't
it?"

She was both terrified and excited at the thought that he
might fuck her with that monster someday soon.

Silence. She looked up, and saw his expression. He looked nervous.
After his usual confidence and air of command,
nervous
looked really
strange on him.

"Oh God, you
have
been training me!" she
exclaimed. Well, it made sense, after all.

On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed the head of his
cock, flushed dark reddish-gray and peeping out from the hood of its foreskin.
It felt smooth and hot against her lips. "Andras, you are gorgeous, and I
want you.
All
of you."

Tentatively, he touched her hair. "Oh, Katie," he
whispered. "You are a treasure."

"I want to make you come," she continued,
earnestly. "After all the wonderful things you've done for me, I just want
to return the favor."

"All right," he said. He bent and picked up his
jeans, rummaging through the pockets. He pulled out the largest condom packet
she'd ever seen. She gaped in astonishment and he quirked a smile, revealing
pointed canine teeth. "Maybe I was hoping to get lucky?"

He handed her the packet and seated himself on her couch,
his legs spread and his wings folded carefully behind him. Still on her knees,
she maneuvered herself around and tore open the condom wrapper.

Katie curled her hand around his shaft, and gently pulled it
forward. It was hot and hard, and she let her fingers linger, enjoying the
contrast between the soft velvety skin and its rigid strength. She explored
him, stroking fingertips over the muscled curve of his inner thighs, combing
her fingers through the coarse dark hair of his groin, and stroking his shaft
from base to tip. Her thumbs danced over the head of his cock, trying to
provoke a reaction from him.

Andras watched her with that intense, predatory gaze,
offering no suggestions or guidance, simply accepting her touch as if it were
his due.

She finally got the reaction she wanted when she cupped his
heavy sac in her hands, and delicately lifted and massaged it. His breath
hitched, and she grinned, continuing her caresses.

Finally he arched his hips, and growled, thickly, "Put
the condom on
now
." His cock was darkly suffused now, and Katie saw
the tip gleaming with moisture.

Smiling, she unrolled the condom over the large, blunt head,
and smoothed it down with firm strokes of her hands. She opened her mouth as
wide as she could, and engulfed the wide tip.

She couldn't take much more than that, but as she began suck
and lick him through the thin latex sheath, she continued to stroke his shaft
with one hand, pumping him firmly. Her other hand toyed with his sac.

His hands returned to her head as she worked on him. She
felt his fingers slide into her hair. "That feels so good. It's been a
long time since someone did this for me."

"Mmmm," she said, overcome with tenderness and
desire at his words. She felt him shiver at the vibrations of her voice.

She was enjoying herself.

On their first date, Katie had told him that she enjoyed
giving blow jobs because she didn't have to worry about disappointing her
partner with her inability to climax through the usual means.

But she also liked concentrating on Andras' pleasure, liked
feeling the subtle shifts in his muscles as he began to tense, enjoyed hearing
the changes in his breathing when she touched him in a way that he liked. He
smelled really good, too, clean with a subtle musky tang, and she wished she
could taste him without the barrier of the condom in place.

She let go of her shame, her guilt, her nagging worry that
she wasn't good enough, and simply let herself drift in the strange euphoria
that had followed her spanking. She felt good and happy and extremely aroused,
and she wanted Andras to feel that, too, as she worshipped him with her hands
and her mouth.

After a blissful interval, she felt his thigh muscles
tighten under her arms, and heard his breathing turn harsh. She redoubled her
efforts, and was rewarded a short time later when he groaned, his fingers
tightening painfully in her hair. His stomach muscles tensed, and he convulsed,
driving his cock upwards into her welcoming mouth with short, sharp jerks. Her
grip on his shaft kept him from choking her as he rode out his climax.

He was still hard as he sighed and relaxed against the back
of the couch. "Thank you," he murmured.

A wave of cold swept over her and she shivered, feeling the
prickle of goose bumps on her bare skin. She was no longer turned on, just very
tired and very sore.

She straightened up and wiped her mouth. Her arm suddenly
weighed a hundred pounds, and her teeth were now chattering uncontrollably.

"Hey," Andras said, tugging her up beside him. It
was an effort to move—her bones felt like ice, and her muscles like soft
butter.

He grabbed a crocheted afghan off the back of the couch, and
lay down with her, covering them both as spooned her and she shivered in his
arms.

Andras felt blazingly warm as he cuddled her, and gradually,
her shivering subsided.

"Did you just feed off me?" asked Katie, slowly
putting two and two together.

He kissed the back of her neck, raising shivers of a different
kind, before replying. "Yes. You were delicious. You always are." He
hesitated. "Now that you know what I am—Does it bother you?"

"Amanda said—" Katie felt him tense up.
Okay,
bad way to introduce the topic
. She started again. "I thought that I
had to, uh, have an orgasm for you to uh, feed."

He was silent for a long time. Finally, he said,
"We—the Children of Lilith, that is—are nourished by arousal as well as
orgasms. That you have such incredible stamina, and can maintain arousal for
such a long time before climaxing...that's part of what makes you so
appealing."

"Oh." Katie had never imagined that her slow crawl
to the finish line could be seen as a plus. But apparently, if you were an
incubus—
er, Child of Lilith
, she corrected herself—extremely leisurely
lovemaking was the way to go. Not that she was objecting. "That's a really
different
way of looking at my problem."

"Who said it was a problem?" He chuckled, and she
felt his lips nibble the edge of her ear as he cupped her breast and began
stroking her nipple to stiffness. "Now, let's discuss your
punishment."

"Uh," she said apprehensively. So much for hoping
she had misunderstood his earlier comment. "You mean there's more?
Really?"

"No more spankings," he said. "Unless you
want to."

"No!" she said, immediately, and felt the puff of
air against her ear as he chuckled soundlessly.

"Your punishment for breaking your promise is no
orgasms for a while," he said. "I still want to play with you, and I
need you to nourish me, but I won't let you climax."

"For how long?" asked Katie, dismayed. That
spanking had really hurt! Wasn't that punishment enough?

"Until I say so," he replied, his voice implacable
again. "Katie, you promised to submit to me, to give up control of your
orgasms. You just assured me that you wouldn't break your promise again. So, I
am going to test your sincerity."

He pinched her nipple and she jumped, feeling his continued erection
pressing against her sore bottom. "I am going to play with you whenever
and however I want, and I will decide when you climax again. Do you
understand?"

"Yes," she said. He was kissing her neck again,
and she felt the first faint heat of desire start up again between her legs.

"And if you're very good," he murmured, his hand
leaving her breast and moving lower. "I might decide to end your
punishment sooner rather than later."

Andras spent the next few minutes teasing her back into a
state of quivering arousal before getting up and pulling on his jeans.

Bending to tuck the afghan around her shoulders, he gave her
a lingering kiss. "Until tomorrow, beautiful girl. I'll pick you up for
dinner after work."

Andras resumed his glamour and strolled out of Katie's
apartment. He could still feel her extraordinary aura surrounding him, could
still smell the sweet fragrance of her arousal. He felt as if he were filled
with reviving sunshine, warm and alive again for the first time in weeks.

If I were the type of man to whistle, I'd be whistling a
jaunty tune right about now
, he thought as he made his way down the grand
stairs to the front entrance.

Katie had looked upon his true form, and he had sensed only
interest and desire from her. She was beautiful beyond all measure in spirit
and in soul, and
she wanted him
. All the long-forgotten gods must be
smiling on him right now.

He had a feeling that Katie was going to enjoy her
punishment. He would do everything in his power to make sure she did, so that
the frustration she felt would be another form of foreplay, a delicious
anticipation of what came next.

And when her punishment ended, he would have her. He would
make her completely his.

He would ask her to become his
philtata
.

Then he remembered the reason for this afternoon's
delightful diversion of spanking, cuddling, and caresses.

Andras' smile gave way to a scowl as he left Katie's
apartment building and headed to where he had parked his car.

Amanda.

* * *

His sister was not answering her phone. Andras tried her
cell first, then her landline.

Amanda always answered her phone.
Always
. She had
once told Andras that she considered the mobile phone the greatest invention of
the twentieth century, and had owned a succession of them, from the large,
clunky models that premiered in the 1980s, to her sleek latest-generation
iPhone. She was always available to chat—unless she was having sex.

Andras found himself hoping that a new lover was the reason
that his repeated calls were being ignored. But he felt a tight knot of tension
gathering in his chest as Amanda's voicemail kicked in, over and over. 

Instead of returning to his downtown loft, he headed for
Amanda's house, located only a few blocks away from Katie's apartment in one of
the city's older neighborhoods.

Standing on his sister's porch, which was a generous roofed
expanse that wrapped around the front of the old house, furnished with
white-painted wicker chairs and glass-topped wicker tables, Andras rang the
doorbell.

No response. Andras concentrated his senses, using his
newly-replenished powers to sharpen his hearing to an inhuman degree. Did
Amanda have a guest...?

If so, he would turn around and leave, his nagging sense of
worry calmed for the moment.

There was no sign of life within the house, beyond the
gentle hum of her refrigerator.

Then he heard a single faint sound of a creaking bedspring
from upstairs, and a sigh, as if a solitary sleeper had rolled over.

Andras looked at his slim gold wristwatch. Nearly noon, and
his sister was habitually an early riser.

Something was very wrong. And he suspected that he knew what
it might be.

Ruthlessly, he dug in his pocket for his key-ring. It held
the key to his loft, his office keys, and a spare key to Amanda's house.

He unlocked her front door and punched in the code to her
burglar alarm when it beeped a thirty-second warning.

"Sister?" he called, in the ancient Greek that had
been their mother-tongue.

No reply.

His mouth set in a grim line, Andras headed upstairs. His
steps were soundless on the thick Persian carpet that ran the length of the
hallway. He approached her bedroom door, and paused to listen.

He heard only the sound of single person breathing, slowly,
shallowly.

"Sister!" Andras called again, more softly, and
pushed open her bedroom door.

Despite the bright spring sunshine outside, her bedchamber
was dark, blackout shades pulled over the large windows. The dim shape of a
large antique wardrobe loomed to his left, and ahead of him he could make out
the spindly legs of a century-old writing desk and lyre-backed chair.

Against the windowless wall to his right was a large,
four-poster bed of approximately the same vintage as the wardrobe. A mound of
pillows and bedclothes and a betraying curve of a wing showed that his sister
was huddled in bed without her glamour.

Normally, the two of them wore their glamour day and night,
lest they be surprised while sleeping.

Andras, alarmed, strode over to the bed, and reached under
the heaped comforters and quilts. He stroked the smooth surface of her wing up
to her bare shoulder.

As he had feared, Amanda's skin was cold to the touch. Even after
having fed from Katie, she still felt—and looked--half-starved, her aura pale
as moonlight and scarcely more substantial.

A jolt of fear made Andras' heart hammer. It seemed that
Amanda had not lied to Katie about her condition. And if Amanda was like this
now
,
how close to complete collapse had she been before?

At his touch, Amanda turned her tousled head, and slowly,
reluctantly opened her eyes.

"I know why you're here," she whispered. "Please
don't be angry, brother. I only took one climax from your sweet little lover.
Just one...I didn't think you'd be home this soon. I didn't think you'd
notice..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes began to droop again.

"Why Katie?" Andras demanded, his voice harsh with
worry. "Were you that jealous of me? Did you coerce her?"

"No!" His words made Amanda's eyes fly open.
"She was aching with the need for release! I just set the stage to allow
her to yield to her desire, just a little nudge when she was wavering."
Amanda looked at him. "She is my friend, Andras. And she wanted to help
when she sensed I was in trouble. I never meant to hurt you, and I don't think
she did, either. Don't blame her...her affection for me made her gift doubly nourishing."

"But it doesn't seem to have done you much good," Andras
observed.

His sister assayed a weak chuckle. "On Friday, I could
barely maintain my glamour in public. Now...well, if I spend today resting, I
might be able to make it into the office tomorrow."

Andras stroked her tousled hair. "How—
why
--did
you let yourself starve?"

But even as he asked, he knew the answer. His sister had reached
the crisis point for a Child of Lilith deprived of a
philtatos
for too
long.

She had been without a companion for longer than Andras had.
With no good prospects to give her hope, Amanda had now arrived at the place
where she had found Andras not long ago: depressed and apathetic and having a
difficult time motivating herself to find a new
philtatos
or
philtata
.

His sister, his twin, his best friend. Who understood him
better than any living creature. She was on the verge of the fatal Decline,
ready to give up and let her long, long life slip away like a fistful of sand.

"I've always found it ironic," Amanda murmured, "how
we Children of Lilith, who have a reputation as heartless sexual predators, literally
wither away and die if deprived of true affection for too long."

"Please don't give up," Andras pleaded. He gripped
her shoulder, as if trying to infuse her with a will to live.

He knew, all-too-well, how she felt. He had nearly given up
after Yoshiko failed to become immortal. His sister dragging him out to meet
Katie on that fateful evening that had changed everything for him.

"There's someone out there for you. I
know
there
is. Please don't give up, please don't leave me." He bent and kissed her
cheek, his voice breaking on those last words.

"I'll try," Amanda whispered dutifully.

She reached for his hand, and her skin felt as cold as a
corpse's.

Andras wondered if she was just trying to appease him, and
he felt sick at the thought of watching her simply fade away, growing ever
colder and more lethargic, until finally she fell into the sleep from which no
Child of Lilith could awaken.

All of his previous resentment faded away as he studied his
sister's weakened aura.

Amanda was dangerously close to the final stage. Why hadn't
he noticed? She had seemed much the same as always, and he had been absorbed in
his new relationship. Had his sister deliberately hidden her condition from
him? There was no other explanation.

There had to be
something
he could do. Some way to
convince his sister to keep trying, until she found someone to rekindle her
interest in life, just as Katie had rekindled him.

Katie.
He laid his hand over Amanda's cold cheek.
"Amanda, what would you say if I asked Katie to join us, right now? Would
you be willing to feed from her again?"

Amanda's green eyes opened at last. "I don't want to make
further trouble between the two of you," she whispered.

But he could sense her hunger, and the interest that had
stirred at his suggestion. Hope flared in him—his sister was not completely
lost to the sensual world, not yet.

"Perhaps we could come to some arrangement, you and
Katie and I," Andras continued, a little desperately. "Perhaps she
might occasionally be your--what's the modern term?--
friend with benefits
."

Amanda blinked up at him. "You would agree to that,
Brother?" Her tone was disbelieving

"The choice is Katie's, of course. But if she agrees, I
would have no objection."

To his surprise—and worry—Amanda turned away from him, and
began to cry, deep tearing sobs that sounded hopeless.

"What?" Andras asked, feeling more helpless than
ever. "Why are you weeping? What have I done?"

"I was just remembering how being with Katie made
things worse. To be given affection and trust and acceptance, and to know that
it was just—just temporary!"

"I've only known Katie for a few weeks," Andras
said, "but I very much doubt that her trust and affection are temporary.
You've been her friend much longer than she's been my lover...have a little
faith in her."

Amanda sniffled.

Andras took her in his arms, resting his cheek against her
tousled red hair. "I'm not ready to lose you, little sister. You're the other
half of my soul. Please don't give up. I know that there's someone out there
for you. Have hope for just a little longer."

As he felt Amanda sink back into lethargic sleep, he
murmured their old reassurance to her, as he had through centuries of difficult
times, of grief, of loss:

"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all
manner of things shall be well..."

* * *

After Andras left, Katie got dressed and cleaned her
kitchen. The chill from his feeding passed quickly, but the tender skin of her ass,
now hot and tingling, was a constant reminder of how she had almost screwed up
the best relationship she'd ever had.

She couldn't seem to get enough of Andras. Even his
punishment had been a turn-on. Pain had never appealed to her, but for him, she
would do
anything
. He seemed to somehow know what she needed when she
didn't even know.

Suddenly starving, she made herself a toast-and-egg sandwich
and wolfed it down. Being spanked made her both horny and hungry, it seemed.

But as she picked up the scraps of her dress from the living
room carpet, she found herself questioning her sanity.

Incubi and succubae...really?

Her lover and her best friend were really immortal
supernatural beings with wings? Had someone slipped drugs into the city water
supply, and made her hallucinate the past twenty-four hours? Or was this all
some kind of twisted practical joke?

Her musings were interrupted by her cell phone blasting out Andras'
ringtone. She lunged for it.

"Hey," she said, trying to sound cool and
collected.

He sounded anything but.

"I have a huge favor to ask," he said, sounding
breathless. "It's Amanda—she's in a really bad way."

"What's wrong?" Katie asked, instantly concerned.
"Was there an accident or something?"

"No," Andreas said. "That's where the favor
comes in. Will you help her, Katie? You're the only one who can, right
now."

The light began to dawn for Katie. "Um," she said,
incredulously. "By 'help her,' do you mean you want me to have sex with
your sister again?"

"Please," said Andras. His voice dropped. "I
think Amanda is dying. She's been starving herself. Even if you agree to do
this, I'll have to help. She's too weak."

He stopped speaking, and for several moments, Katie heard
only the quiet sound of his breathing. His stress and his worry came through
the phone in intense waves.

But Katie was still wary. "This isn't a trick question,
is it? You're not trying to test me about my promise?"

"No!" he breathed. "By all the gods,
no,
Katie. No tricks, no test, I swear to you. No punishment. Just please help my
sister. If her friendship—and mine—mean
anything
to you,
please
...I'll
cancel your punishment."

She had never heard him so upset. He was begging her. Mr.
Cool-and-Confident was
begging her
. Whatever was going on with Amada, it
must be
really
bad.

"Of course I'll do whatever I can," Katie said.
"Where are you now? Should I meet you there?"

"Yes. And, thank you, love," he said, and Katie
realized that Andras' relief and gratitude were worth whatever he was going to
ask her to do. He continued: "I'm at Amanda's house. Please come as soon
as you can."

"On my way," she assured him.