Page 17 of The Succubus's Song

Mara bit down a little harder and drank deeply, then Finley’s release hit him like a physical punch. She was sucking the life out of him, and it somehow was better than any blowjob he’d ever received—he was coming untouched as the ball of heat in his body exploded and left nothing but singed veins in its wake. Finley’s orgasm seemed to last for ages, until the pain and pleasure ebbed away, leaving him a panting, wrecked mess on his couch.

When Finley’s vision finally cleared, he blinked slowly and reached between his legs for Mara—until he realized she wasn’t there. His legs were covered in a mess of come and blood, and he felt boneless.

I’ve never felt better in my entire goddamn life.

“Mara?” Finley looked up, and his heart dropped.

Mara was standing on the other side of the apartment, behind the kitchen counter, looking horrified. She didn’t look as feral as before if you disregarded the blood smeared on her chin. Her claws and fangs were retracted, and the air around her no longer glowed with magic. Even her eyes looked a little more muted.

She’s crying.

“Whoa, whoa, Mara, are you okay?” Finley stumbled to his legs, feeling as weak as a newborn fawn, but he still forced himself towards her. Mara looked distressed and only cried harder at the sight of Finley standing.

“How can you ask me if I’m all right?” Mara forced the words out, and Finley stopped walking.

“Because you’re crying,” Finley stuttered, suddenly overcome with guilt and confusion.

Did she not want to do that? Did I take advantage of her hunger?

“Mara, please…” Finley took one more step closer to Mara, and she bolted, fleeing the kitchen and disappearing down the hallway.

Finley heard his bedroom door slam shut.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Centuries worth of shame started crumbling around Mara’s shoulders. The magic in her veins fizzled out, the heat dissipating to a cold, wretched guilt. She desperately wanted to disappear. She couldn’t look at Finley’s face for another second. Mara ran away as quickly as she could, ducking into the first open door she could find. She slammed it shut, leaned her back against it, and slowly slid down to the floor.

Mara buried her head in her hands, spiraling further when she caught the scent of Finley’s blood on her fingertips.

He’ll never forgive you for this. No one should ever forgive you for this…

Baobhan sith were not known for their restraint; once they tasted blood, they kept drinking until their source was extinguished. When a baobhan sith seduced a man with the intention of drinking from him, it inevitably meant his death. Their magic was some of the most powerful naturally occurring powers; they could drown their victims in pleasure until they were unable to realize what was happening. They’d never understand they were dying, even until their last breath.

When Mara had fled out of The Devil’s Advocate, she knew she’d been playing with fire. Ever since coming to the human world, she tried to keep a leash on her instincts, but they were all or nothing. After being confronted by her sister, Mara’s territorial instincts emerged, which meant her more primal addiction to feeding did too. The stockpile of donated blood she had at home wouldn’t do.

She wanted something hot. Something alive.

She wanted Finley.

Mara didn’t remember how she got from the streets of Edinburgh to the balcony of Finley’s apartment, but as the edge of her hunger softened, loathing like she’d never experienced before crept into her mind to take its place.

“Mara?” There was a soft knock on the door as Finley called out to her. “Can you open the door for me?”

“G-go away,” Mara sniffled, horrified by the desperate way her voice sounded.

“Um, well,” Finley chuckled warmly, and the sound simultaneously soothed and confused Mara, “the thing is, I can’t really go anywhere. It is the middle of the night, and you’re in my bedroom.”

Oh my god. Mara looked around the room for the first time and realized it was Finley’s bedroom. I couldn’t have found a linen closet to hide in?

“Please?” Finley softened his tone, knocking one more time. “I don’t know why you’re upset, but…whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?!” Mara nearly shrieked in surprise, falling away from the door and turning around to face it. “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

“Well, um, I don’t know?” Finley sounded awkward. “W-which I realize is inappropriate, like, in a situation like this, for a guy to not know…like not exactly realize what he did wrong. I’m sorry for that too.”

Finley McEwan, you are too fucking good for this world. Mara thought her chest was going to explode. Without thinking, she jumped to her feet and threw the door open. Finley had been crouched against it and tumbled into the room, landing at her feet in a disgruntled tangle of limbs.

At least he found pants. Mara cringed inwardly. She trembled as another wave of shame dripped down her spine. Finley slowly stood, and Mara stepped backward, sitting on the edge of Finley’s bed. She couldn’t manage to make eye contact with him.

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