The Incubus's Heart Ch. 04

Story Info
Godwin helps Seneca sort her feelings with hands-on methods.
5.7k words
4.91
3.7k
2

Part 4 of the 9 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 09/03/2019
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
PDreadful
PDreadful
535 Followers

*Hi, thanks for reading. I can't use italics, so when Godwin's native language is spoken I am using parentheses to differentiate and avoid confusion. Hope you enjoy!*

*****

Seneca speed walked in silence until she got to her bus stop, only stopping to put her shoes on. Godwin followed silently, giving her space. She was out of control, her emotions swinging back and forth, dizzying her enough that her stomach was roiling. She couldn't trust that if she opened her mouth she wouldn't puke, a feeling she hadn't felt in over a decade. Vampires didn't puke.

But, she was a shitty vampire. She swallowed down her nausea, trying to sort herself out. She wanted to be ashamed of herself over she broke up with Chip, but she couldn't. She knew she should be, and that feeling was messing with her. She would've been messed up after that for sure, before Godwin.

Of course, Chip was an idiot. He was probably at home right now, eating pizza and watching his dumb football movie, oblivious to her feelings, as usual. He'd be fine.

She was mortified at how good it felt when she touched herself, using Chip for her own pleasure. It was embarrassing, mortifying. She'd swallowed his stuff! What was wrong with her? She'd done sexual, intimate things with Chip, and Godwin watched it all! Encouraged it! And, the worst was, she enjoyed it. It was so wrong. She should be feeling terrible. So, why did she feel so good?

She'd do it again, she knew she would, if Godwin asked her to. Maybe even if he didn't. It woke something inside her that spoke to her vampire nature, something she'd been working her whole life to suppress. She should be terrified, and part of her was freaking about about it, but she also longed for another taste. She knew instinctively that what she felt with Chip was just a small sliver of the pleasure she could experience as a vampire. And with Godwin? She couldn't imagine, but she wanted it.

God, she was terrible. A slut, just like her mother said all those years ago. The thought made her remember things she didn't want to remember, things she'd forced herself to forget. She pushed the memories down into her imaginary box and slammed the lid shut hard.

Her thoughts continued to circle like sharks in her brain as she paced, waiting for her bus to show up. She had no idea what time it was, was it still running? If not she'd have to get an Uber or something, but she didn't have that much money until she got paid again. It couldn't be that late, how long had she been at Chip's? It was probably still early. The bus would come, right? Her pacing sped up, and she knew she was moving too fast, knew she should slow down, but couldn't.

Godwin reached out for her, catching her forearm. His touch stopped her flat, and a wave of calmness flowed through her from their contact. It was almost enough to sooth the nearly overwhelming need to move, but not quite. She was a live wire. She shook him off, unable to stop moving, and resumed pacing.

"Seneca, please be still," Godwin requested. He sounded vulnerable. It stopped her mid-pace and she turned around to face him as he reached for her, hesitating just before he made contact. She moved without thought, taking his hand in her own. That surge of calmness again, and this time it stilled her feet.

The heat of his hand in hers began numbing some of her more toxic emotions. Godwin gazed at their clasped hands with an unreadable expression, then squeezed. "Seneca," he said, looking sad.

It killed her, that he was sad. That she'd made him sad. "Godwin, I'm sorry. I messed something up, let you down, and I almost messed the thing with Chip up, I mean, I probably did, and I did all of those things, the sex things, and I shouldn't have, and I swallowed it, I've never done anything so dirty, I'm sorry, I didn't, I mean, and now Chip, he was crying, and I should feel bad, and I do but I also-"

"You have not let me down in any way," he said, squeezing her hand as he interrupted her frantic rambling. "If we could perhaps discuss what happened? It might ease your worries, to speak on these things."

She looked around, biting her lip as if she were thinking about it. She wasn't, her brain wasn't working right at all. They would talk, that would be good. She dragged him to a bench a dozen or so yards away from the well-lit bus stop. Godwin sat, pulling her down with him.

"Seneca, I am at fault here," he said after a brief pause. "I would like to apologize, I was wrong to push you so far so fast. Please be calm," he entreated.

Why did she have to mess up everything? "I..." She couldn't find the right words to express how she felt.

"Seneca. I am at fault. Please, stop tormenting yourself." Godwin closed his other hand over hers, turning his body to face her.

"No, I messed up, Godwin," she said, knowing it was over before it had even begun. She turned away from him, afraid to see him disappointed. "I'm messed up. I can't-"

"No, no, Seneca, do not turn from me! You did wonderfully tonight!" Godwin insisted. He squeezed her hand between his. "I am the one who has blundered the evening."

"How? You didn't do anything!" She studied the scenery so she wouldn't look at Godwin. The sudden urge to cry was nearly overpowering, and the last thing she wanted him to see was her crying like the whiny baby she really was. "I wanna go home."

"Seneca," Godwin entreated. "If that is what you truly want, I will accompany you to your home. But, please, I think you would feel better if we discussed tonight. Your emotions are everywhere at once."

"I messed up, Godwin. I always do." She held her breath to keep her tears from falling.

"No, Seneca! You did nothing wrong! You were perfect. I should not have rushed you to do so much so soon. I had not known that you had never tasted male emissions before. You have my deepest apologies. It was never my intent to cause you such pain, but I have nonetheless. Please, forgive me."

There were too many tears for her to lock in her box, and they spilled out messily. "Godwin, you're fine. It w-w-was me! I'm b-b-broken, you don't want a b-broken vampire."

Godwin's arms wrapped around her and she hid her face in his suit, the vanilla smell filling her with comfort and warmth. "Oh, Seneca, I am so very sorry. This is not how I wished to play, not if it causes you such pain." He stroked her hair, pulling her tight against his body. She cried and he held her, whispering words she couldn't recognize into her hair as he rocked slightly. After she calmed down a bit she realized he was singing.

"Godwin?" she asked, pushing away from his chest.

He released her reluctantly. "Are you well?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

She nodded. "It's not your fault I'm like this," she said. "Thank you for, you know..."

"The fault is mine. I... May I consume these? I wish to make you feel better, as a way of apologizing.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," she insisted.

"Nonetheless," he insisted. "I would like to make you feel better, and I would also enjoy consuming the emotions you do not wish to feel."

"Not here," she finally agreed, ready to be rid of the emotional turmoil.

He nodded. "I could take you to your home, but it is quite far from here. I would like to consume these sooner, to relieve your burden. I... I live nearby..." He turned away from her. Was he blushing?

"Go to your place?" she asked, shocked at the thought. She'd never actually considered where he might sleep. Where did demons live?

He nodded. "We are very near my domicile." He seemed nervous. "You could feed me there, and I could relieve you of the emotions which pain you."

"Feed you?" she asked.

"You could choose to feed me any unwanted emotions, I would consume them. May I request that, Seneca?" he asked, need in his voice. His eyes were pure silver, the sclera and irises completely missing. Quicksilver pools, and she sank into them, unable to help herself.

"It would be like before? With a kiss?"

He nodded, reaching out to trail his finger down her cheek, his caress as light as a butterfly's wings. He dropped his hand back into his lap, and his eyes followed. "Yes, but it would be more intense than any time I have consumed emotion from you before. The acuteness of your emotions will require time and contact. I do not wish to upset you further."

"Okay," she agreed, hating that he was upset because of her. "I don't want you to feel them, though. Will they make you feel bad?"

His smile was sweet and soft. "Emotions taste different, but all are nourishment for an incubus. They will not make me feel bad, and it will make me feel infinitely better to know I eased your pain."

"You said live around here? Like, in an apartment? God, I'm dumb. Of course you live somewhere. I just never thought about where a demon might live." For no good reason at all it was incredibly funny. She snorted, then the snort turned to a laugh.

He smiled, his confidence returning. It soothed her, she didn't like seeing him upset. "Does that mean you find visiting my domicile acceptable?"

She shifted, the humor fading. "I don't know..." She sighed. "Nothing with you is simple, Godwin. I just met you and I... The last two days have been crazy. I feel out of control. Should I go home with you? Is that a good idea?" she asked, turning it back to him.

He smiled. "We are partners, Seneca. I will stand by whatever decision you come to make. I would like the opportunity to make up for tonight, though."

She rolled her eyes, feeling calmer now. "You didn't do anything wrong, seriously. It was me, it's always me."

"I disagree, but I feel we will be at odds while assigning blame."

She snorted. "Yeah, you're probably right. What do you want, Godwin?"

He looked at her, his head turned quizzically. He hadn't been expecting her question. "What do I want? Seneca, I would enjoy your company for longer, if the choice were mine. I would bring you to my home."

She heard the bus before she saw it. Godwin turned, too, and they watched it approach, his grip growing tense as it grew nearer. She made no move to get up, and since no one else was at the bus stop, the bus drove by, engine rumbling as it climbed a mild incline away from them.

Godwin looked at her curiously. She shrugged. "Oh. Seems I missed the bus. I guess we should go to your place."

The look of disbelief on Godwin's face lasted only a second before laughed. He stood up, pulling her to her feet. "You, little hansa, you are remarkable."

What could she say to that? She followed him, her hand still in his. Somehow things were good again. All of her guilt still there, of course, just less heavy. Godwin was her panacea, he somehow made her feel better just by touching her.

He didn't speak as they walked, perhaps worried that if he gave her a moment to think about it she would change her mind. He didn't need to worry, though. The thought of getting to see his home had her excited.

They moved away from the streets she knew, dodging down a side alley she'd never noticed before. Trash was strewn along the gutters of the road, and the whole neighborhood looked tired and worn down. They turned down another alley, then he pulled her to a stop at a nondescript door on the side of a brick building that had definitely seen better days. A small cart filled with fresh fruits and vegetables stacked behind handwritten cards detailing the prices sat next to the door, lit by Christmas lights strung around a small awning. An older Asian woman, nearly as battle-worn as the rest of the street, sat next to it, reading a well-worn paperback novel. Seneca leaned in to see what she was reading, but it wasn't in English. The woman scowled at her, moving the book so she couldn't see the cover.

The scowl disappeared when she saw Godwin. She didn't smile, but her scowl softened, then she nodded curtly and returned to her book. It was weird, but probably not even in the top five weird things she'd encountered since meeting the incubus. Godwin pulled the door open.

He lead her down a narrow hallway, then opened a beat up fire door and pulled her inside. The stairwell was brighter than the hall and she squinted a little. Godwin urged her forward and they climbed the steps.

"My apartment is on the top floor," he said apologetically. "I do not usually take the steps..."

"There's an elevator?" she asked as they cleared the first landing and began the second one.

He smiled back at her. It was unfair how sexy his smile was. "No, no elevator."

He was teasing her. "If there's no elevator, how do you get up here?" she asked, taking the bait. "Another Daeva trick?"

He turned back long enough to wink at her. "Of course."

"Godwin!" They cleared the second landing and she could feel her calves starting to burn with exertion.

"I will show you sometime, but not tonight. Is that acceptable?" he replied, speeding up on the steps, taking them two at a time in his excitement.

She pouted playfully, but he wasn't looking at her so she stopped. "Sure," she agreed, moving faster to keep up with him, despite the protest from her calves. "But I'm gonna hold you to it!"

His laughter made her excited. It was strange that something as simple as making Godwin laugh could make her feel this way. "Oh, little hansa, I expect you to do just that."

The stairwell ended on the third floor. Godwin pulled open another dinged up fire door and lead them into narrow hallway, nearly identical to the first floor. Doors lined the hallway, all with numbers starting with 3, evens on the left and odds on the right.

Smells of cooked food mingled with the smells of people living close together permeated the hallway, underscored by the general smell of old buildings and mold. She wrinkled her nose, the strong scents mixing together unpleasantly. Sounds were too loud, too, as they passed by, TV programs, snippets of conversations in several languages, sounds of running water and other domestic life. Her nerves were on edge again, the smells too strong, the noise too loud, and the lighting too dim. It put her on edge.

He stopped at the last door on the left, plastic numbers above a small peephole reading 320. She noticed he didn't use keys to open this door, either. He pressed one hand against it, just under the numbers, then pushed, not even turning the handle. The door swung inwards and he stepped into the darkness within.

"You don't lock your door?" she asked as she followed him inside, looking back over her shoulder down the noisy, smelly hallway. If she didn't lock her apartment door she'd be robbed blind.

"(Nanast)" Godwin said softly and a light clicked on the door slid shut behind her. All of the overwhelming sensations from the hallway disappeared as the door shut, the latch clicking softly. "No need. It only responds to my touch. Only I may access this space."

"Nana-what? What did you say?"

"I was asking the apartment to turn on the lights," he clarified.

"What about the door, no one can open it but you? How's that work?"

His room smelled of him, a strong scent of vanilla with a tinge of something else. The smell was elusive, tickling her nose pleasantly, teasing her senses. She'd been worried that his apartment would be as rundown as the rest of the building, but it wasn't. The room they were in was small, but it felt warm and comfortable. There were no couches, instead he had large, plush cushions and pillows lining two of the walls. The room was dim, lit by strings of runner lights along the ceiling, and shielded from the outside light with lush, dark curtains over the windows. A small, low table sat in front of the cushions, an empty coffee mug and an open map of the city on top of it. The wall behind it was cut out and it was dark in the room, but she could smell water and figured it was a small kitchen area.

"Yes, this ingress is trained only to respond to me," he answered, kicking off his shoes by the door.

"Ingress? You mean door? You make it sound like the door is alive..." she replied, following his lead and kicking off her shoes. Since she walked down the street a good way barefoot before she stopped to put her shoes on, but her feet were probably just as dirty as her shoes. She rubbed them on the rug, trying her best to keep from dirtying the beautiful wooden floors.

"The door itself is not alive, per se. It is of Daeva origin, something I was able to bring with me across the boundaries of our realms when I...departed. The organism is not the door, it is part of the apartment, a guardian of sorts," he said as he moved through the apartment, heading towards what she had assumed was the kitchen. "Please, make yourself comfortable. Do you desire a beverage?"

She found a comfortable looking cushion and sat down. The cushions were deep shades of red, brown and black, and were firm, yet soft enough that she sank into them. She sighed contentedly, the cushions were more comfortable than they had a right to be.

"Sure," she replied as she snuggled deeper into the cushions. They were heavenly, and they smelled like Godwin, vanilla and... something else. The desert. He smelled like vanilla and desert heat, totally masculine. His smell sent her butterflies alight again.

The idea that she was in his apartment hit her, making her giddy. She was in Godwin's apartment! Internally she squee-ed, but tried to keep herself in check.

"Do you prefer coffee or tea or water? I was not expecting company, many apologies that I do not have more to offer..." he trailed off, a frown in his voice.

"No, water is good!" she exclaimed, not wanting to burden him.

He returned a moment later with two glasses of water. He handed one to her and she leaned forward to take it. She sipped it, then placed it on the table. He set his own down next to hers. He shrugged off the jacket to his overly formal suit to reveal a pale dress shirt beneath. The shirt clung to his chest in all the right ways as he tossed the jacket behind him. It disappeared before it hit the ground.

"How do you do that?" she asked as he sat down next to her, leaving about a foot of space between them.

"Do what?" he asked, watching her curiously.

"Make your clothes change or disappear? I know you said it is a Daeva trick, but how do you do it?" she pestered.

"Hmm...how do your vehicles work in this world? There is nothing like them in my homeland." he asked, sipping his water carefully.

"It's complicated." She thought about it, and realized Godwin was right. "Fine, I don't actually know how cars work, other than you put fuel into them and then they run," she said, leaning closer to him. He smelled so good. She saw in the lighting that his eyes were still full pools of mercury. The lights in the room made them sparkle.

"You see, it is the same for me. I know it works, I know how to do it, but I do not understand the complexities behind the operations," he explained. He mirrored her own body language, moving closer to her as well.

"Oh," she said simply, her heart drumming in her chest with her nervous excitement. He was nervous, too, she could see it in his posture, in the way he held his hands tightly in his lap. Silence filled the space between them, spanning the single foot as if it were miles.

"So, ah..." she began when the weight of his eyes on her made her squirm.

"Seneca." The way he said her name made her feel as if they were the only two people in the world.

"What should I do, Godwin?" she whispered, her whole body turning towards him. "Do you want me to feed you?"

"Gods, yes. Please feed me, Seneca. Please." he said, his tone both demanding and imploring at the same time, his eyes shining with desire.

She reached out, cupping his cheek in her palm. He leaned into it, closing his eyes. "Your hands are cool...your touch is refreshing," he murmured. She shifted even closer to him, and now their knees were touching. He leaned forward and she pulled his face closer to hers.

PDreadful
PDreadful
535 Followers
12