Moon Rise Ch. 12

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Tempest feeds on The Hound of Hell.
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Part 12 of the 13 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 05/17/2019
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Chapter 12

If anyone asked me how I had ended up naked in bed with one of the most dangerous beings in the Cryptid world, I'm not sure that I would have had a plausible explanation. And honestly, I should have been far more unsettled than I was. I also couldn't help blushing when I thought back on the last hour. I was a shitty succubus to blush as much as I did. Can a being without shame feel embarrassed? Then again, to say I was completely shameless was just as completely untrue. I just felt shame over very different things than merely sex.

As I lay against his warm chest, I closed my eyes and felt a certain peace that I hadn't felt in... fuck, I couldn't even remember. I tried to compare it to how I once felt with Dominic, but I think those memories were tainted given that when I had once felt safe with him; it was all just smoke and mirrors. In the end, he was far more inhuman than I, and all of his platitudes about caring for me hinged on how well I obeyed him, or gave into his games. He loved control, plain and simple. I think some part of him may have wished that he could love me, but I honestly didn't believe that he was capable of true, selfless love. He could protect me, if it suited him, or he would leave me to my fate. His whims were as mercurial as his mood.

Naberius, on the other hand... he was deadly, to be sure. I didn't imagine many people survived if he didn't wish them to. As beautiful as the three headed canine form that was his own skin was, it was a dangerous beauty, as seductive and lethal as my own. An elegant, muscular, yet lithe frame, fur that hid the heaviness of his muscled body, and eyes... eyes that would have made Van Gough jealous in their depth of blue. Funny that those eyes never changed, regardless of what shape he chose to inhabit.

Oh, and he did make me rub his belly. It was more innocent than he had teased, and I was delighted in spite of myself. It was such a juxtaposition, the warmth and likability of the family dog with all the feral deadliness of a three headed direwolf. And yet, he was also a man. Perhaps not a human man, but a man nonetheless. His ability to scent even the smallest change of my mood should have struck me as uncanny, but there was something comforting in it.

I think this was the first time in days when I had taken an easy breath. And yet, I knew it was only temporary. Despite the playful moments when he let me please him with pets and nuzzles, he more often maintained his bipedal image and held me without demanding anything of me. He just... let me absorb the rare moment of peace, and I found myself taking small sips of his energy even when we were not in a passionate embrace. I could taste the edge of his desire always, but he also had tight control, and despite that my pheromones might make most men crawl to me on their knees begging to let them touch me, but he seemed almost immune. Not to say that he was unmoved; quite the contrary. I could taste that he was more than a little interested. But he was letting me take my time, become comfortable with him and it was a kindness I wouldn't have suspected of the Hell's hatchet man.

"Don't get me wrong," I said as I wrapped the red spidersilk tie around my fingers absentmindedly. "I am grateful for the company and the distraction from everything, but... do you really have this kind of time to waste on me?"

His lips twisted into a rueful smile. "I had not intended to spend my day in your bed, that is certain. And I did have a reason to be here, though I am afraid the urgency of your hunger rather distracted me from my initial agenda."

"Should I apologize?" I asked, my voice low with amused lust; I had taken the edge off my hunger with what little play we had engaged in, but I had not fed as deeply as I needed to. We both knew it, but neither of us were commenting on it.

"Never apologize for being what you are," he said quite seriously, and he captured my chin between his fingers and he held my gaze, his dark with complete, intense sincerity. "And if I am so easily captured by you, it is my own weakness. And... I find I do not mind." He smiled and stroked my cheek gently. "I far prefer guarding your body this way, with you nude beside me save for your... is that Grumpy cat on your bedsheets?" He looked torn between abject confusion and amusement.

I felt heat flush my cheeks. "My good sheets were sort of soiled by a dead body," I said a little defensively. "These were a Yule present from my roommate, Lina."

"Ah, the Cait Sidhe," he said, understanding in his voice. "There aren't many of them left in the world."

"Lina is one of the last," I agreed.

"Despite the name, the Grimalkins still hunt their shifter cousins; the Malks don't see the Cait Sidhe as kin, despite their similarities." Naberius observed. "They are a little more circumspect now; an all out war between the fae and the weres would be... problematic." He fingered the soft printed flannel sheet over my bare breasts, his teeth flashing in an almost feral smile as he looked at the seal-pointed cartoon cats all over the soft material. "You are nothing like I imagined, when your father asked me to take this assignment."

"Well, you're nothing like I imagined either. Whatever would the nine Hells say if they knew their head of security spent the afternoon in bed and under the thrall of the daughter of Lilith? Getting belly rubs in his canid form?" I wrinkled my nose teasingly, and he growled a little, lightly, playfully and dragged me to him, pulling me on top of his body, my breasts free of the flannel that had covered them, my torso across his, our lips inches from one another's.

"Tell anyone the last part, princess," he said in a whisper-soft voice that made my toes curl. "And you'll find me most displeased. You don't want to displease me." It was impossible to tell if he was being completely serious or not, and like an idiot, my body responded to the implied threat. I saw his nostrils flare a moment later and those cornflower eyes once more deepened to the rich blue of cobalt. "You fear me," he whispered, his fingertips rising to caress my exposed throat. "And yet it does nothing to curb your hunger or desire. If anything, I would say it just gives it a sharper edge."

"Harder to ignore," I agreed, keeping perfectly still and he searched my eyes for the answers to dozens of unspoken questions. He curled his large hand around my slender neck once more, but applied a gentle but firm pressure...it just made my heart beat harder. I closed my eyes, completely complaint in his grip. "Are you going to truly hurt me, Naberius? I don't think you will." I whispered, my voice a little strained against his fingertips.

"You are by far too trusting," he chided me, but leaned down and kissed my mouth, nonetheless. "One of these days, that willingness to see the best in others will get you killed." Still holding me to him, he switched our position in the bed, throwing me onto my back as I gasped up at him, my throat still in his grip. But I wasn't afraid. I just knew he wouldn't hurt me. And he saw it. The emotions flickered over his face like lightning strikes in a storm, and he frowned down at me. "Tempest..."

"Are you going to lecture me, or fuck me, Barry?" I asked, arching a delicate brow at him from where I lie underneath his hands and his body.

"Goddamn it, woman," he growled and then stopped talking, leaning down to capture my mouth with his once more. "You will be the death of me," he growled softly. "I can see it clearly already." His words traced an icy path down my spine, and I saw Keith in my mind, cold and dead in my bed. I almost recoiled physically from the sudden, unwelcome mental reminder of how many I absolutely had been the death of. He pressed his forehead to mine and looked directly into my shattered gaze. "No, not like you're thinking... and not today, princess. When I heard that you'd had a trying night, I suspected what you might require and I can handle it... all of it."

"Don't say that," it was almost a pleading whimper as my insides coiled tightly, demanding I finally sate myself on this willing victim.

"Stop fighting," he said softly, lowering his body to mine, and my arms and legs wrapped around him as if I might climb inside him to find safety. I could feel his arousal against my most tender parts and instinctively shifted and parted my thighs wider to grant him greater access. And when I did... I finally dropped my walls.

I don't know what he expected. But I felt my vision shift as darkness covered my gaze, the inner shadows rising within me to eclipse the emerald of my eyes with pure, inky blackness. While we didn't possess fangs like our vampire cousins, we had a few weapons that most people didn't think about until it was too late. The first that once my restraint was gone, the room filled with the perfume of my lust, and I saw it overwhelm him like someone who had just gotten an injection of the most potent aphrodisiac he had ever come into contact with. His image flickered between animal and man for a moment as he fought a silent battle of wills with his own body and the psychic onslaught of mine. Tiny thrills of pleasure snaked from my fingertips across his flesh, like a million lightning strikes, as I ran a hand down his lean, muscular body. Such an attractive, masculine, finely muscled body he had. And for once, it didn't occur to me to wonder if he was out of my league. Wordlessly, I drew him to me and finally inside of me. He was perfectly ready, as I knew I would find him. Once I truly meant to feed, it was all but impossible for anyone not to be aroused. They had little choice in the matter. His groan was almost a living thing as he slid deep into my hungry hole. My endlessly hungry hole... I could give him so much pleasure, if I wanted. Or so much pain. He wasn't doing a very good job of blocking me, and somewhere my deviant little brain found that all the more sexy. Either he wasn't fighting me... or he couldn't. Not like this, not buried nearly to the hilt inside of me.

Nearly. Nearly, and fighting for the control to maintain in his human form. Gods, what would it be like to have him throw away the last tatters of his control away and let him just take me as I could feel he wanted to? Pinned beneath his monstrous form, hearing him pant in my ear while he pressed all the way into my body... pressed all of that monstrous cock to the root inside my small, curvy body. Spreading me, stretching me, forcing me to accept all of him as I was forcing him, psychically and physically, to accept all that I was, equally a monster in my own way.

The snarl that tore from his throat would have chilled the blood in any living creature's veins, but instead it just made me flex my hands, and feel my nails sink into the flesh of his back and ass, respectively. I could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air and couldn't find it in me to be shocked or appalled that I'd drawn blood, every molecule of my body driven to hunt, to fuck and to kill. I was so deep inside his mind, absorbing and devouring his lust as it oozed out of him that I was pulling his deepest and darkest desires from him, feeling his fear that I see them, but desperately praying I found them arousing. So afraid I had been raised among the humans too long, that I wouldn't understand such an inhuman need.

And here is where we are different from our Sanguine cousins. They scented blood and they frenzied to drink it. For me, it was just... the scent of cherry cordial on top of the sumptuous dessert that his sexual energy was about to be for me, as his body responded to me, rather than his own will. He was struggling not to grip me, press me into the bed and fuck me with all of his considerable strength. His need to mate, as real and true as any creatures', suffused his conscious mind, and the growl that came from him was not a sound that a human throat could have made. But he managed to keep his body from changing as he gripped me to him bruisingly tight. The pupils of his eyes had dilated to the pinprick narrow dots of black in a sea of blue, as they would were he hunting. He was hunting... he was hunting me as surely as I was him. He would bleed for me as I fucked him, if I desired it. He would let me damage him if I wanted, and I wasn't entirely sure that he could stop me. There was something... different about this feeding. Not just that I was not afraid, but I felt exactly the opposite as the other night with Keith. I was hyperfocused. I could see, hear, feel and taste everything.

But it wasn't enough. I wanted to taste his soul.

I didn't realize I was making a noise in the back of my throat until I saw him have a moment of lucidity and give me a feral, toothy grin before taking my mouth with his. I felt the sharpness of his canines, and I was certain I tasted blood. It just made me want him more. The taste of blood on my tongue was like warm copper pennies, true, but it carried its own energy that fizzed on my tongue like electric carbonation. I wasn't sure if it was mine or not, at first. Impatient with his attempts to keep some shred of his control intact, I accessed what little inhuman strength I possessed and turned the tables on him, pushing him hard onto his back and crawling atop him like a woman possessed. I didn't bother to reach between our bodies to guide him back into the damp, heated cavern of my body that was already clenching with the need to have him inside me again. It took minimal effort to find him, get the angle right, and then taking his hands for balance as I undulated my hips over his, taking him as deeply as I could while he held me atop him, watching my face, the animal in his own visage flickering now and again, letting me know his control was not as good as he professed it to be. His mask was about to fall. And that was what I truly needed to drink deep of him. I needed him to lose control, needed his seed inside my body, his sexual energy soaking into me as surely as his cum would.

But I wanted him to break under me. So, I slowed myself, creating a slow, sensuous rhythm as I rode his cock, letting him see, finally, what he had invited past all of his walls and armor. I let him take and guide my hips as I fucked him, my hands caressing then clawing those gorgeous pectoral muscles as I left my mark on him, knowing it would fade before the night was over, but knowing also, even if it healed, I had marked him as mine. I leaned down and licked away the tiny ribbons of blood that followed my nails, as sharp as any were's claws. The taste of his blood didn't arouse me as it might a Sanguine vampire, true, but the fact that it was his essence on my tongue compelled me to savor it, even as he pulled me down to fiercely take my mouth with his, sharing the blood, the passion, the intensity. My mane like flames snarled around my shoulders, wild and fae looking. My were eyes black orbs of lust as I continued to take his body, never allowing him to take over the motions of our sex, only hold on to me as I controlled it all. Controlled him.

Little did I know it was all an illusion.

I saw the cracks appearing in his mental armor, and the beast in me salivated, catching a glimpse of the power of the creature that lay below me. Wanting to devour it. All of it. But he surprised me. Just as I was certain he was on the edge and about to give me everything I was desiring, with a ferocious sound torn from somewhere deep inside him, he pressed his hands into the supple flesh at my hips and he slowed me against my will, and met my eyes once more, the three headed dog visible behind the human face and body, but not corporeal, not yet. So close.

"You smell incredible," he managed, forcing human words to bring him back to some level of control. He tugged me down so I was leaning over his torso, and he was able to kiss me. "But I won't break that easily."

"I would have been disappointed if you did," I purred with a wink, but was actually quite impressed at his level of coherence. The only evidence in his voice that he was struggling was his words seemed more heavily accented than before. "I just need your orgasm, Naberius. You can try to keep the rest of you under control if you like, but you have already sworn your completion to me and I need it. Now." With a strength and resolve that shocked the hell out of me, he lifted me from his body and then pulled me down for another kiss.

"You first," it was more a rumbling basso in his throat and deep in his chest than spoken words from his lips. He turned us so that I was once more pinned beneath him, and his hand were holding my body beneath him, aligning our forms neatly along one another. And then he truly took me. And I could do no less but as he bade me. The deep, unerring thrust deep inside my core made me gasp and curl my body around him, clinging to him, unable to do anything more than dig into his flesh with tooth and nail as he sank into me with a satisfyingly wet and firm smack of heated, wet flesh. Each slow, yet excruciatingly brutal and delicious stroke in and out of my sopping wet quim was enough to have me shaking around him like a leaf, feeling my very will dissolve around me into little more than star dust beneath this fingertips.

The way he molded my body to his, the sound of his flesh pounding into mine, the pant of his breath stirring the tiny hairs that danced on the frame of my cheeks and near my eye lashes as they lifted so that I could gaze, albeit it blind with passion, into his cerulean eyes. "Cum for me, Tempest," he snarled softly, his hands almost biting into my hips as he gripped me and fucked me. Our eyes locked, and I was helpless. I felt it instantly, held trapped by his intensity, like a mouse before a viper. Blue locked with green and heat sparkled between us as I fruitlessly attempted not to obey that scrumptious order. But it was to no avail. It was like he had a direct line to the core of my consciousness and as much as I wanted to taste and lick his soul, his hooks were already deep in mine, pulling my strings, like his own personal marionette that he could manipulate with but a word. What made it all so much harder was that... it shouldn't have been so simple for him. If he were an Incubus, maybe. A battle of wills with someone like myself was always a fun, albeit dangerous game. But, he was not. Yet, whatever he truly was, his power was undeniable, and just as surely as he had lowered his walls to give me access to him, so had I, by the sheer act of reaching out to touch his mind and body.

It terrified me... and it turned me on more than any sexual act I could think of that I had ever performed, and believe me... there had been many. I felt him inside me in more ways than one. I felt him in my mind, pressing me to yield to him, to give myself to him. I felt him in my soul, laying me bare and defenseless before him, marking me indelibly as his. No matter where I went or whom I was with, he and I would always know that he had touched me this deeply, that he had seen this far into me. That he had marked me as his. That he had ordered me to cum... and I had had no other choice but to do as he bade me.

"Cum hard for me, princess." He ordered, his voice no louder than a soft, growling whisper in my ear as I shattered around him, screaming out his name, my body convulsing in a full body orgasm that claimed me. My pussy clamped down on him and I felt the reflexive milking contractions around his large, firm, beautiful cock where it was buried deep inside my deepest recesses, stretching me, as if made for his body. His eyes closed briefly as he absorbed the sensations as

i contracted around him, grasped and clenched him, clawed at him weakly with my hands, panted and moaned and cried out under him. When it finally subsided, he leaned forward and kissed me so softly on the lips. "Good girl."

12