Corviss
His cock was already drooling.
Corviss had expected the girl to already be sleeping when he arrived that night; expected to climb atop her as he had since his summoning. He hadnotbeen prepared to chance upon her pleasuring herself.
She teetered, balancing on the knife tip of her world and sleep, making it easy for him to enter. Her mind was heavy and tired, her body warm and wound tight as she held the vibrating apparatus, sinking into her pillows and the dreamscape alike. Her full breasts had taken on the same lovely flush of her face, and her head tipped back, mouth open, looking as beautiful as one of the nymphs at the Firefly Queen’s Midsummer Revel, being taken by a cluster of other partygoers.
He slid like a shadow to the foot of the bed, sliding his nails up her thighs as he took his perch, curling one finger and then a second into the hot cavern of her sex, as tight and sucking around them as it would be around his cock. The girl cried out as she unraveled, the device she used to aid her pleasure finishing her off quickly. When she tightened around him, Corviss nearlytook wing at the flood of slickness around his fingers, the smell of which made his feathers fluff and raise.
He could taste her desire on the air, and it was even more delicious than her fear.
His cock was dripping, drooling pre-cum, hard and eager, and he didn’t need to wonder what the incubus who should have been here would have done. He would have fucked the girl before she was even sleeping, hard and punishing . . .But you’re not a demon. You’re a nightmare, and you should do what nightmares do.He was and he should . . . but instead, he did neither.
She had not been fully asleep yet, he realized, her conscious mind not beneath the waters of the dreamsea, and she struggled against the paralysis that came with his perch.Good. Perfect.He turned where he sat, pushing her legs open and curling in on himself until he could reach his prize. Pushing his face between her soft thighs, the heat of her beckoned him. He wanted her fear,fedon her fear . . . but he wanted to taste her desire more, and he didn’t actually give a shit about what the incubus would have done just then, nor what he wasmeantto be doing.
The first dip of his tongue between her hot, slick folds made her back arch as if she were being electrocuted. The taste of her slick was sweet and thick like ambrosia, absent the sharpness of her fear. It enveloped his tongue and coated his throat, and he licked deeper, wanting more. The girl made a gurgling noise in her throat, jerking against his mouth as his tongue moved from her slit to clit, licking a broad stripe up the lips of her sex, grunting at the delectable taste. She made one of her small animal noises when he suckled that protuberant little button, and so he did it again and again, finding that she jolted every time he did so. He wanted her to climax again, wanted to feel that rush of hot honey against his tongue, wanted toswimin her juices.
He could feel her tension, the tremor in her muscles and the pulsing in her cunt, telltale signs that she would soon be wracked by convulsing contractions, flooding his mouth in her sweet nectar. When she did so at last, he crowed in triumph. The rest of her body was still frozen by his presence, but her cunt was not, and it pulsed against his tongue as she shook with her orgasm, nearly shaking apart. He lapped her up, uncertain of howthisknowledge had been kept from him all his life. He wondered if they all tasted this sweet, all the humans whose fear he fed on, or if the girl was singular.
When she slackened beneath him, he nearly fell off the bed in his haste to turn. He desperately needed to bury his cock in her, and his eyes rolled back at the now-familiar, sucking heat. He should take her back to the unwaking world with him, Corviss thought, force her to keep his cock warm with her body every minute he was not otherwise engaged fucking her, feed on her fear and her desire and take an early retirement . . . it was something to ponder, but for now, he wanted to sink back into her unconscious mind.
He had felt her pleasure, clenching around his cock and fingers, had smelled it and witnessed it, and now he’d tasted it. Tipping forward with a splash into her mind, he wanted toseeit, and he was not disappointed. A kaleidoscope of color swirled through her dreamsea, and Corviss realized he might not have need of her fear again. He was sated on her pleasure, well-fed from the ecstasy he licked from her cunt, and had no cause to pull her into a nightmare.
He was not expecting her to be waiting for him.
He did not know enough about humans to be able to say if she was beautiful by their own standards. Her hair was the same color of the stygian cliffs where he nested, overlooking the waters of the Lethe, and her soft skin was the same color as a newborn fawn. Her eyes resembled a fawn’s as well, luminousand dark, opened wide as she took him in. Her body was soft and round and warm, and he did not relish the thought of perching next on a human without her soft plushness. He didn’t know what humans considered attractive, but she was lovely, he thought.
“It’s-it’s you,” she wheezed, suspended in the rippling dream water like a pixie floating in a birdbath. Her long, dark hair wavered behind her like seaweed, her limbs floating weightless. “I knew it, Iknewyou would come again. But why? Why are you here?”
“You’re the one who summoned me, pet. I am only here because you called.”
Dawning realization bloomed across her face just as she went slack around him. “The ritual . . . do you mean to tell me it-it worked?!”
He nodded, watching as her eyes cast about as if she had dropped something.
“But-but that doesn't make sense! I was supposed to gain clarity, be in tune with the other side. I'm supposed to understand what I'm supposed to do next."
Corviss watched as she sputtered. He understood the cat's frustration, he supposed. The girl was still under the impression she could simply buy a spell and make her life easier, despite having been told it didn't work that way. He wasn’t quite sure what she was seeking clarity on. It seemed to him that her problems lie only in how she perceived herself, versus how she wanted to be perceived.
"You were tricked. By the cat. The ritual you completed was to summon a demon."
Her mouth dropped open. "Ademon?!"
"An incubus, to be precise. You should have known from the —"
"The candle," she whispered, drawing a hand to her face, slowly through the rippling water. "I should have know from the shape of that fucking candle. Iknewit looked like a cock!"
She looked him up and down, and he could tell she wondered if her face betrayed her feelings over his physical appearance. It did, he thought dourly.
"An-an incubus. Is that what you are?" The levity he had been feeling quickly dissipated, and he scowled, shifting. In the waking world, she cried out, his avian talons digging into her skin.
"Iam no demon, little fool. I am here because you called. The ritual you completed summoned a particular incubus, and I . . . I am covering his shift this month." He realized they were no longer swimming in the dreamsea, but rather, they were back in her bedroom. Her mind had brought them somewhere more familiar, more comfortable, and he could not say he minded. "As I said, you were tricked. By the cat."
"Cat . . . no, by Holt. He's a man, he runs a shop. They sell —"
"He is a cat," Corviss interrupted. "Cats are malevolent creatures, all of them. Corrupt to their cores. They serve a dark master and would never deign to make themselves low for love of a human. Trickery is a skill they have long mastered."
She gaped at his words, but then after a moment, the small smile curved her lips.
