Page 16 of The Succubus's Song

She looked feral.

Mara was standing in the open doorway that led out to his balcony, the door swinging open behind her. He never locked it because the apartment was several stories up—it was impossible for anyone to access it through the balcony.

Apparently, not if they’re magic, it isn’t.

Finley had seen glimpses of Mara without her glamour, but he’d never seen her like this. Her hair was even longer, hanging past her waist, and her fangs and claws were fully extended. Those eyes—the red eyes that haunted him—were practically glowing, lit from within. She started to walk towards him, slowly, and she even moved differently. Mara was walking as if she was made up entirely of air; she moved carefully, seductively, leaving traces of red magic glittering in the air behind her.

Time stopped. Finley was fully hard again as his mind began to get muddled. He tried to comprehend the sight in front of him. Mara walked closer, a devious smile on her lips. Every part of her was blood red, as if she’d already drunk her fill.

Finley retreated until the back of his knees hit the couch, and he tumbled back down onto it.

“What were you doing?” Mara batted her eyelashes, her voice sounding airy and coquettish as she tilted her head to the side. “You wouldn’t…stop on my account, would you?”

She’s pouting. Mara Parker is fucking pouting.

The rest of the blood in Finley’s body rushed to his groin so quickly, he was lightheaded. The magic and arousal in the air thickened, and Finley didn’t think he was breathing. He forced himself to take a deep breath and almost immediately, his senses were battered with the overwhelming scent of roses and musk.

It made him wild with want. He’d never been so hard in all his life, and in that moment, he realized he would do anything Mara asked him, if it meant finding some relief.

Oh fuck. Sudden clarity broke through Finley’s thoughts. Mara is hunting. Mara is hunting me right now.

Mara stood right in front of Finley and stopped. She trailed her fingers up her own torso, playfully flicking her nipples through her dress with her talons. Finley couldn’t hold back a wrecked moan at the sight as he felt another rush of pre-come spill out of him.

I get the legends now. I get it, I get it, I get it… Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I’m going to come untouched. Finley’s thoughts were a babbling mess as Mara stared down at him.

“Were you touching yourself?” Mara broke the silence and asked him, biting her lower lip.

“Y-yes,” Finley panted, already wrestling off the beginnings of his orgasm. The air was full of Mara’s scent and magic, and he was a prisoner to the arousal. He could feel his pulse pounding as his eyesight started to blur around the edges until all he could see was Mara.

Mara dropped to her knees effortlessly, somehow still able to move gracefully even in the staggering high heels she wore. She placed her hands on Finley’s knees and pushed his legs wider, making more room for her to inch closer.

“Were you thinking about me with your hand on your cock?” Mara trailed her hands up from his knees and started rubbing Finley’s thighs. Her talons shredded his sweatpants and stung as she left slightly pink scratch marks everywhere she touched.

Finley gasped for breath, his head falling back as his hips started thrusting upward of their own accord. The pain mixed with the heady pleasure that her magic conjured in his veins. Heat and pressure were building in Finley’s body like he had never known before—and he knew she would ruin him for anyone else after this.

“Answer me,” Mara dug her talons in a little harder. Finley yelped and began nodding his head incoherently.

“Y-yes, yes, yes,” he chanted. “I want you.”

“Ooh,” Mara preened, as if the idea of someone desiring her was a novel one. “I want you too.” Mara smiled at him, her fangs on full display.

Some ancient part of Finley’s brain started to warn him that this was a predator, but Mara reached up and ripped away the remnants of his pants, and Finley ignored that inner voice. Finley hadn’t been wearing underwear, and his cock was now fully freed. He winced as the air cooled his overheated skin.

“Can I have you?” Mara purred again, resting her cheek on Finley’s knee. She started tracing her talons over his thighs again. It would only take a little bit of force, and she would shred through him like butter, but something about the threat was only managing to heighten Finley’s arousal.

“Fuck yes,” Finley whined on an exhale. His whole body was trembling with restraint and need; it was as though every cell in his body had abandoned its purpose and was focused on Mara and release.

Somehow Finley knew he couldn’t come even if he wanted to, his brain would only listen to Mara.

It’s her magic. Fragmented moments of clarity let Finley realize what was happening, but he didn’t give a damn.

“Then I’ll take you,” Mara murmured, her voice sounding like velvet personified. Before Finley could react, Mara began tracing her lips up his leg, licking a hot stripe up his thigh. He forced himself to stay still as his breath came in harsh, chopping pants.

Mara picked her head up, and for a second, a rush of relief ran through Finley as he thought she would take him in her mouth. Instead, as quick as a viper, Mara pressed a hot, wet kiss to his thigh—and bit down.

Her fangs went through his skin with no resistance, and Finley let out a sharp scream at the stabbing pain. It overrode his senses, and he thought he was having a heart attack. The blood in his veins turned to liquid pleasure and fire, and the pain soon gave way to an intense ecstasy Finley had never felt before.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” Finley screamed until his throat gave out. He could feel Mara’s mouth against him, drinking his blood as her tongue lapped at the puncture wounds. The sensation echoed in his cock… Finley realized he could feel every lick and suck as if Mara had him in her mouth while she was still attached to his thigh.

---