The succubus left her dress pooled on the floor and stood in the doorway. Looking down at the seated psychic, shew wondered for a moment who was the hunter here.
She watched Peter, the psychic, shift in his seat. His eyes drifted over her. All she could read in his expression was hot, barely constrained desire. She stepped toward him, her hips swaying.
When she was close enough, he reached for wrapping his arms around her waist. She could feel his breath on her belly. “I want to see the real you,” he said, his voice hot on her skin.
It had been a long time, a very long time since she had shown a human her true face. She stepped back, and he loosened his hold on her waist, his hands still rested on her hips. His dark-eyed gaze drifted slowly up her body.
She shivered as if he’d touched her. Once again, she wondered if she was the hunter here. But as her eyes locked on his, she dropped her human form. Her tail swished behind her, and her wings unfurled. “Is this what you wanted to see?”
Peter’s fingers tightened on her hips, and he nodded as his eyes devoured her. “You’re beautiful.” He released one hip, his hand moving to his zipper. The sound of the metal parting echoed through the room. His cock, hard and ready, stood between them.
The succubus shimmed out of her panties. Catching his eye again, she climbed onto his lap. The head of his cock pressed against her. He bit his lip and moaned, as she lowered herself onto him.
Moving on his cock, she leaned forward so her breasts brushed his face and her clit ground into him. His mouth found her breasts, and he licked and kissed her flesh. His hands skated over her heated flesh to unclasp her bra. Then, he buried his face between her breasts, his mouth capturing one nipple than the other, while his restless fingers traced patterns on her back.
The succubus found herself speeding up, her pussy tightening and her belly tingling as her orgasm drew near. She would feed when she came, drawing his life essence from him in great gulping breaths – and he would die as his cock pumped out its last orgasm.
The succubus arched back, pulling her breasts from his mouth, her body and his nearing orgasm. She opened her mouth, a low moan escaping before she inhaled deeply, and tasted nothing.
Peter groaned beneath her, his body tensing. She shuddered to a hungry orgasm, her hands latching on to his shoulders. She inhaled again, and found only air, no soul to swallow. Peter’s body relaxed after he came, and he returned his hands to the arm of that chair.
The succubus stared down at him, as her body grew heavy with lethargy. “What… what are you?” she slurred her words.
“Someone who is sending you home.” The pattern he’d been tracing on her back suddenly warmed, flaring as it were flame. He spoke a series of words she hadn’t heard in centuries, and she was pulled out of the mortal world, back to her own.
Peter zipped his pants as he stood. The cards still spread on the table Death, the Three of Swords, and the Emperor. The smell of brimstone hung in the air as he swept the cards back into a neat pile.