Chapter 8

Lilith

His mouth was still wet under mine when I pulled back — his pulse fluttering fast enough against my tongue to taste every lie he'd swallowed on his way back to me. His eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide, lips parted on a soft, helpless sound he couldn't choke down in time.

Good. Let him tremble. Let him understand.

I stroked my finger deeper — slow, careful, coaxing more slick out of him until it dripped warm over my knuckles. He shivered on my lap, thighs twitching around my hips like he didn't know if he wanted to run or rut deeper into my palm.

"You want to know why you came back, pretty thing?" I murmured, mouth brushing the corner of his jaw, my breath sinking into the soft hairs behind his ear.

He made a sound — tiny, broken — hips rocking against my hand, claws biting into my thighs through silk that clung to his sweat.

I hummed — pleased — and pressed my palm flat over his belly, feeling the way it jumped under my touch when I circled my thumb just right. "You think it's weakness, don't you? That you couldn't stand it. That you're here because you're soft."

I tilted his chin up with the hand from his belly — made him look at me. His eyes glittered in the low golden hush, lashes damp at the corners where the truth pricked tears he'd pretend weren't there later.

"It's not weakness," I said, voice softer than silk sliding over a blade. "It's what you are."

My finger dragged out slow, then pressed back in, slick rushing out— coaxing another sweet, helpless sound from his throat. "You're an omega, Kael. Your body was made to crave this. Intimacy. Touch. The warmth only someone like me can pour down your throat until your bones remember who they belong to."

He shook his head — tiny, pitiful denial that made my smile catch sharp against his skin. "No?" I teased, brushing my nose along his throat where his pulse drummed frantic. "Then why are you dripping for me, sweet boy? Why did your feet find me again the second that heat started to burn through your belly?"

I felt him try to answer — his mouth parted, breath hitching when I curled my finger deeper, brushing the spot that made his spine arch.

"Poor thing," I whispered, tasting the soft edge of a purr in the hush between my teeth. "You thought you could run from this — from me. But this isn't hunger you can starve away."

My palm slid up, pressing flat against his chest, feeling his heart hammer under thin cotton and flushed skin. "Omega's heat is an old promise. Your body hums with more want than any mortal's ever could. You pour it out without even trying — all that sweetness, all that soft ache."

I leaned in — my mouth brushing his ear, my voice a hush warm enough to melt the shame clinging to his breath. "And what do you think I am, Kael? A succubus feeds on want. On sweetness. On heat. You're the finest meal I've tasted in centuries — soft, wild, impossible to resist."

He whimpered when I twisted my wrist — thumb brushing the slick where he clenched around my finger like his body wanted to drink me in deeper than I'd let it yet.

"You think you're trapped?" I laughed, soft and low, right against his throat. "You are. But so am I."

My teeth grazed the shell of his ear — not biting, just enough pressure to feel him shudder. "I can't stop craving you any more than you can stop crawling back here when your belly starts to burn."

I kissed the spot just under his jaw, where the taste of his pulse was sweetest. "So be a good boy," I whispered. "Give me what you're made for — and I'll feed you until you can't remember why you ever wanted to run."

I pressed deeper — coaxing another broken moan from his lips, heat blooming soft and wild between us. His hips rocked — desperate, open, perfect.

Good boy. I'd take every drop of it — again and again.

And he'd beg me to do it every time.

His breath caught on my throat when I slipped my finger free — slick glistening on my knuckles, warmth still twitching soft around nothing when I pulled away. His hips rocked after it, like his body couldn't stand the sudden emptiness. Good. Let him feel that ache a little longer.

I brushed my lips along his jaw — slow, soft, too gentle for what he deserved. Then I curled my hands under his thighs and lifted him clean off my lap. He didn't even fight it. Just a small, broken gasp, claws flexing at my shoulders when I rose to stand with his warmth folded tight against my chest.

He weighed so little like this — all that soft wildness tucked down small in my arms, heat dripping sweet between his thighs even now.

"You should be proud," I murmured, my mouth brushing the shell of his ear as I carried him through the hush of the private corridor that coiled behind the velvet drapes. "Do you know how many pretty things beg to be here? How many crawl to my feet and never see this room?"

He made a soft, helpless sound — not quite a question, not quite a protest. I felt it rumble against my collarbone where his breath caught warm in the hollow of my throat.

I nudged the door open with my foot — no creak, no sharp click, just the slow hush of silk drapes parting for the dark inside. My private suite. My bed — wide, low, wrapped in velvet darker than night. Empty for decades except for me and the ghosts I'd kept at the edge of my dreams.

Until now.

I laid him down in the middle — silk pooling under his spine, catching the candlelight that flickered from the low wall sconces. He looked so small there, tail curling shy across his thigh, ears flicking low like he didn't know whether to purr or run.

I let my fingers drift through his hair, brushing it back from his flushed face. "You're the first," I said, soft enough to feel him shiver under my palm. "The only one in a very, very long time who gets to warm my sheets for more than a breath."

His eyes flicked up — wide, glassy, shining with a fear that was too tangled up in want to call pure. Good. Let him feel the weight of it.

"Be proud, Kael," I whispered. "It's an honor. You're too rare to hide that softness from me now."

I slipped my fingers under his shirt — slow, teasing, dragging the hem up over his ribs, savoring the way his breath hitched when I brushed my mouth down the soft line of his belly. The faint scars there. The little tremors I could feel when I kissed each new strip of skin I uncovered.

When the shirt came off, he tried to cover himself — tail twitching, claws brushing his own chest like he could hide all that softness from my eyes.

"No," I murmured, catching his wrists and pressing them above his head. My mouth curved slow against his navel. "None of that. I want to see it all. I want you bare for me."

I stripped him careful — pants sliding down slow over thighs that trembled when my nails scraped gentle across his hipbones. His cock twitched soft against his belly, leaking slick warmth that made my mouth curl with wicked delight.

I tasted him once — just a kiss, soft over his flushed tip — just enough to hear him choke on my name. Then I sat back on my knees beside the bed, the hush thick around us, my robe pooling loose over my thighs.

"Your turn," I said — voice so soft it almost didn't sound like an order until my smile sharpened at the edges. "Undress me, little cat."

He looked up — confused at first, wide eyes flicking from my mouth to my hands to the silk knot at my waist. His fingers twitched like he wasn't sure he had permission to touch.

"You fed me well enough," I purred. "You've earned the right to unwrap me, haven't you?"

His breath stuttered — a tiny nod, too shy to speak. He sat up on trembling elbows, claws brushing the silk knot at my waist. Careful. Reverent. Like he thought I might bite him for daring.

The robe slipped open when he tugged — the dark silk spilling warm over my hips. His eyes widened — first at the gentle curve of my breasts, pale line of my belly, the soft curve of my hips — then lower, where the secret I'd never bothered to hide pulsed warm and thick between my own legs covered by my underwear.

Kael's breath caught — sharp, soft, helpless.

"Surprised?" I murmured, fingers slipping into his hair as his eyes flicked wide, pupils blown so dark they swallowed the candlelight.

I stroked my thumb across his cheek, feeling the soft heat of his confusion tremble down to where his thighs pressed tight together on my sheets.

"Omegas crave all kinds of hunger, sweet boy," I whispered, leaning close enough that my clothed cock brushed his stomach — hot, heavy, throbbing against the soft slick still dripping from him. "And a succubus gives them everything they need — every touch they're too shy to beg for."

I felt him shiver under my palm — his breath breaking soft against my collarbone as I pressed my hips forward just enough to feel the promise of it.

"Don't look so scared," I crooned, mouth brushing his ear. "This is mine — but it'll be yours soon enough. Be a good boy and open for me."

His moan cracked soft in his throat — a helpless sound that told me exactly how deep I'd feed tonight.