tagNonHumanBought Ch. 05

Bought Ch. 05


The Clan of the Incubi

The Incubi, and their sisters the Succubi, are possibly the least and the most frightening of the Daemon species. A full-blooded of the kind could bend the will of their victims with the use of lust and sex in any form. With powers ranging from instant orgasm to sensory explosions leading to excruciating pain, other species found them either delightful or deadly.

The worst of their power, however, is the ability to drink in the life-force of those who succumb to them. The soul's energy can be a drinking fountain for the Incubi, or a meal worthy of a king that will fill them more than any food could.

Luckily, over time, their kind had become diluted with other Daemon species. Sex was replaced by power. The ability to drink energy lost or capped with a constant leak of the energy ingested. Very rarely, an Incubi can hold onto the power fed to them for extended amounts of time, especially a child of an Incubi/Human union–though that was rare in itself.


Shadows and light played on her face as she stared up at Rhoe, sweating heavily and breathing just as hard. He smiled down at her. The vampire looked imposing with his chest heaving at her on false breaths. Even his face appeared flushed like he still had a heart to beat. Areica knew otherwise. The smell of old blood filled the air too much to think the man in front of her lived. It made her feel sick though she did not show it.

With a raised brow and teasing smile, Rhoe kicked the sword from her hand. The shining metal glinted as the weapon skidded across the glossy wooden floor of the sparring room. Her now empty hand closed, scraping against the flooring with over-sharp nails before becoming a fist.

His own sword fell to her neck, the point taunting her to move along the visible bite marks healing on her skin. Areica's violet eyes flashed at him with more than a hint of anger–something that made him rather amused.

"You know, pet, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were fighting to kill." He said, bending down with the sword still in place, "But we were just playing, were we not?"

He'd been teaching her to protect herself and defend herself for the last few weeks. Thanks to the violent breaking of her, she remained on the protective side. During this session, he threatened such an attack again. It forced her on the offensive.

His hand wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her near. The point bit at her, but she refused to satisfy him with a scream.

"Weren't we?" he asked again, hands tightening in her curling black locks

"Yes." She spat more than said

He pulled his sword back then tossed it to the side. She whimpered, despite her will not to, as he jerked her closer to his face. Fear shot through her, just as he'd trained her to feel whenever he crossed her personal boundaries like this. Master Rhoe smiled, obviously smelling that scent of terror that he seemed to love so damn much.

"Good. I thought as much." He pulled her roughly again, but up this time, not toward, "You'd never hurt your Master Rhoe, would you?"

She swallowed her reply like a bitter pill. Yes . . . if she had the strength, he'd never see the sun set again. But she didn't say it. She was not as foolish as that. However, when no reply came, he pulled her as close as he could, closing the distance between their bodies. The move knocked her off balance. To regain some of it, her hand fell to his chest. He was cool and wet thanks to the blood she spilled with her sword. Her open palm fell in the center of the slit of blood, marring the perfect pale, white expanse of his chest.

Rhoe sucked in a breath of pain as the palm pressed into him. His hand came to her neck with claws pressing into the length of her neck. Fear grabbed her again. He had the capability to rip her throat out, and he would if it suited him.

His head threw back slightly, while his eyes fluttered. A look of ecstacy crossed his features as he dug in. Her fear was an aphrodisiac to him. His member ripened between them. Immediately, she felt ill . . . she felt numb . . .

With a graceful movement, he sat higher up on his knees until her face touched his hardness through his leather pants. His crotch grounded into her flesh as he gyrated on her. It obviously gave him a thrill. Rhoe's breath hitched then growled as the air spilled from his lungs.

Areica feared what came next. Normally, by now, Master Rhoe would have pushed her to the ground and made his way between her legs. This time, however, he just continued to rub himself on her, possessively. She couldn't hold back the whimper that crept to her throat. Rhoe rewarded her fear with a deep throated chuckle.

His free hand slipped between the meeting of their bodies. His pants fell open after a jerky movement on a leather strap hanging before them. The hard pink shaft of him sprang out of the new opening. Rhoe's hips continued to move, brushing that thing on her. It left a cool, wet line along its path.

He maneuvered himself, and her, so that her face lined up with his manhood. She looked at it, then looked to him with confusion.

"Open your mouth." He said, his voice thick with need.

She refused, shaking her head. Her jaw tightened as though she was clenching her teeth. Rhoe yanked her hair hard enough that she knew some of it ripped from her scalp. She whimpered pathetically. Tears stung her eyes.

"Open. Your. Mouth!" his voice was forceful this time, more anger than need.

Unwilling to go through such pain again, Areica did as told. Her trembling lips parted, forming an "O." Roughly, Rhoe pulled her face closer to the stiffly standing cock. He shoved her onto it, pushing that smooth, sleek thing into her mouth as far back as it could go.

She gagged which made him groan.

She choked; he laughed.

Tears streamed down her cheeks; he smiled.

He moved her head back and forth like the friction of sex and all she could do was allow it to happen submissively. She hated the sensation of the meat throbbing between her lips. Her teeth began bearing down on it.

Rhoe stopped suddenly with an angry hiss that caught her attention.

"You know what I can do to you if you injure me, pet." He wrapped her hair around his fist, "I'll rip your pretty little head off."

It almost sounded better than this. But then she thought of Master Khelman. As promised, over the last weeks, he'd given her a taste of the good when Rhoe dished out the bad. He'd make this up to her, if only she could make it through this.

Closing her eyes, Areica allowed her mouth to go slack. Rhoe's grip on her hair loosened, but remained in place, forcing her head back and forth on him. He forced her so far that she could feel the coarse blonde hairs of him tickling her nose.

The movements became erratic as Master Rhoe's "breath" quickened. The throbbing became frequent jolts as her mouth sucked on him. After endless moments, he stopped. Something chilled and wet shot down her throat, causing her to gag again. Rhoe did not move to allow her to spit it out. No, he just threw his head back and groaned with pleasure. She had no choice but to swallow that salty stuff.

And something shot through her. As she sucked out the cum from him, she felt an energy overwhelm her. Suddenly she felt warm and whole, satisfied as though she'd had a tremendous meal. It was like she'd never HAD a full meal before . . . Was this what it was like to feed on her own and not just soak up the sex?

She drank the spunk down, milking him for everything he had. Rhoe grunted above her, somewhere between pleasure and pain. She didn't care. She wanted to taste more of that feeling . . . It felt like drinking delight and rapture. Her head swam with it. It made her drunk with it.

A sharp pain brought her to herself. Eyes fluttering, she looked up at Master Rhoe, who stared down at her in anger. He brought his fist to her again, though she was not aware of the first time.

"I said, stop, wench!!" he screamed as flesh contacted flesh.

Areica let go of the softening member and came down to the ground in a heap of pain. She whimpered, bringing her hands to her head. She heard Rhoe stand, then the rustle of him fixing himself. It apparently took him a moment to gather himself, because it seemed long before he moved again.

"When I say stop, I mean it." He screamed causing her head to throb, "Am I going to have to punish you yet again?!"

He grabbed at her hair, lifting her from the floor. She clawed at it as though trying to find a way to hold herself down. There was nothing to help her. Fear grabbed her. Punishment. Always punishment.

"Put her down, Rhoeshard." A deep voice called from the other side of the room.

It was painful, but Areica managed to open her eyes. She couldn't help smiling when she saw Master Khelman standing in the doorway of the training room like a black angel of mercy. He still wore his ankle length coat that held his body perfectly. She could almost make out the lines of his muscles through the coat. His long dark hair flowed over the black coat, framing his pale face in darkness.

If she wasn't in pain, she would have wanted him. That caused a dull ache in her stomach.

"Master," Rhoe started, "She disobeyed me. We cannot tolerate insolence from–"

Khelman raised a hand, stopping his subordinate with the mere gesture. Disgusted, Rhoe let go of Areica's hair. She fell back to the ground, covering her face. Hands touched her shoulders, lifting her up. A feeling of relief washed through her, knowing that it was Khelman.

"Etonae is in the waiting room, Rhoe." Master Khelman said as he pulled the girl closer, "He has a delivery. Go take care of him, then have dinner prepared."

Dark eyes glowed at light with anger. Rhoe swallowed hard. Anger coated the blonde's face, though fear lit his eyes.

"Yes, master." He said, bowed, then left the room.

Once the blonde vampire left the room, she felt Master Khelman's anger dissipated into something much calmer, gentler. Areica pressed her face into the comfort of him, taking in the scent of his coat. It was downy soft against her skin scented with the freshness of a night breeze. She drew in a long breath of it, finding some comfort in the smell.

He pulled her back and looked down into her face. She knew what roamed through his mind. Apologies and reasons why Rhoe had to remain in their lives. How many times had Khelman told her that to be without Rhoe was more dangerous to be with him? It seemed foolish, but she knew it was true. The vampire had too much information on his master to allow him to go freely.

So all Master Khelman could do was make it better.

He didn't speak. He just watched his fingers running through her dark hair. Areica gasped for him, which made him smile, albeit uneasily. The movement shifted so his fingers could move to the underside of her jaw.

"Welcome home, Master." She whispered, shaking

"Thank you." He returned

His lips brushed hers, a movement that grazed her soul more than anything. She could feel every movement of him as he spoke into her mouth.

"What escape can I offer you, princess?"

She whimpered quietly as his tongue traced her bottom lip. Areica turned her head slightly to get away from him. Embarrassment rode her.

"He made me do awful things . . . " she whispered

His hand gently stroked the growing swelling on the side of her face. She winced. Khelman pulled his hand away and placed it on her shoulder.

"You can make him stop." The plead was heavy in her voice.

His brow furrowed at her, "I've explained this to you. My offers of protection can only be limited. I am all I have to offer."

Tears trickled down her face. She could see how that made him ache. She could see the muted anger, too. If he'd been Rhoe's true sire and not an honor-bound master, things would have been so different. If Rhoe hadn't grown in power . . . If there had been another Khelman could find . . . Always "if."

He pressed her down to the shining floor with his body. His arms propped him above her. Long dark locks cascaded around her face, hiding both of them in a drape of black, soft as breath. Wavering candlelight peeked through the hair, giving both of them a warm glow . . . especially his eyes. They burned at her as deep chocolate pools that glittered with gold. She couldn't look at them . . . they were too beautiful, and were sucking her into him.

She moved her face as his lips lowered toward hers. They met her cheek in the softest of touches that slithered across her skin like a trickle of water. It was cool and refreshing, but something about it put fear through her. The fear seized her throat, making it impossible to breathe properly.

Khelman's lips continued their path down Areica's neck. Sharp teeth teased at her until she trembled thanks to something between fear of being bitten and desire of the body. His gloved hands trailed her bare arms. His hips ground into her groin.

"This isn't how I imagined this moment with you . . . " he whispered into her ear as he slid back up her body, "But I cannot deny how I've longed for it. Since our first kiss, I've desired you."

Her eyes fluttered closed, then tensed together tightly. Pretty words, but she wasn't sure how to feel about them. No matter what, Areica was merely his slave. He may desire her body, but it was his to take. Wasn't it? That thought rolled bitterly down her throat as she swallowed.

He tossed his hair back over his shoulder as his entire body moved down hers. A hand tugged at her corset until her breast spilled, firm and plump. As he tenderly kissed the mound, his fingers continued to her bare midriff with a barely-there touch. The muscles of her stomach tensed as he played with her.

With a smile, Khelman sat up from her. He seemed to admire her heaving chest as he slipped the long, dark coat from his body. Her stomach fell away as the coat hit the floor, for more reasons than one. The black leather vest he wore fit him perfectly, giving his torso a broad, flipped triangle shape. The puffed sleeves of a dressy white shirt hid the muscles she knew were there whenever he held her. Her stomach clenched more after seeing him than it did when he gingerly touched her.

He lifted her leg, placing it on his chest as the rest of her lie still. His fingers danced along the laces of her thigh high boots, pulling the ties until half of the boot split open wide enough to pull free. With a tug, the thing pulled from her feet. Master Khelman smiled as it fell to the ground.

The left boot followed. With a thud, it fell to the floor. His hands stroked her tightly clad legs. A hungry growl escaped his lips, just loud enough for her to hear. She felt a tremble go through her. He felt it too, and took pride in the quivering of her body.

His hands grabbed at the waist of her pants. With a violent tug, he pulled them downward until soft dark curls exposed themselves. He reached around until his hands cupped her rear. It took little effort to lift her closer to him. His body bent to meet her hips that were now oh-so-close. Khelman licked the hair and the soft mound that housed them. Excitement seized her, particularly when his tongue slipped deeper into her pants, passed the mound to her heat. He lapped up that place until she let out an undignified squeak. His chuckle in response was deep throated and very manly.

Before she even realized it, the pants were gone and she lay sprawled on the ground for her master. Fingers stroked the soft, pink flesh until it trembled.

"Master . . . " she whispered with an ache

"Shh, princess." He returned, running his hands down her inner thighs, "It will all be better soon. I promise."

His hands moved from her until they reached the front of his pants. She groaned at the skin tight material, especially at the lump begging for release from its confines. A few hand gestures later and it sprung forth, stiff, pale, wet, and beautiful. It wasn't as large as Rhoe's, but something about it made her quake. She wanted to taste it . . . to wipe the flavor of Rhoe's cock out of her mouth. She began sitting up, but Master Khelman "tutted" her.

"Another day, perhaps, but I would not last you if you touched me so intimately." He pulled away from her, then stretched out beside her, "Come, Areica, too long have you been taken. Take what you wish this once. I beg you."

Confusion spread on her face only to be replaced by some darker knowledge. He was offering himself to her. She looked at the long white rod that waited between black leather. Her heart pounded in her ears. Did he understand what this meant to her?

There was knowledge on his face as she turned her attention back to him. He knew what he offered her. Hesitantly, she moved from the floor to straddle his body. Nervously, she looked down at him, while he grabbed her hips.

"I don't know what to do."

He smiled then guided her body accordingly. She felt him pressing against her opening, that willing and ready place that needed a good filling.

"Trust me. You'll know in just a moment." His hold on her loosened, but his hands remained where they were, "Move for me, princess. Move for Master Khelman."

She didn't need to adjust herself much. In a slow movement, she sank on him, devouring his member with trembling walls of heat. It sucked at him, dragging him further inside as her hips insecurely bobbed up and down. He groaned, long and deep as she continued to move, just as he asked. That groan gave her confidence. Those unsure movements became bolder, hungrier, more demanding. His fingers tensed along her hips, holding her firmly as she met his hips with thrust after thrust.

Her back bowed as jolts of pleasure rushed from their meeting bodies up her spine. It was intense, wonderful, everything the act should be . . . at least that's what her heart told her. There was no underlying fear, just pleasure. She'd never known this with Rhoe, and never would. Her body tingled and throbbed with the rippling pleasure washing through her.

She leaned over Khelman, riding him like she would a speeding horse. Her one exposed breast taunted at him from above. Its center tight, pointing to him. His eyes watched the delicious flesh bounce up and down as she moved for him. That hungry look in his eyes made her move faster, harder, taking more than giving. Riding hard and fast like he was hers to command, and not the other way around. Just this once, she had control. For the first time in her life, she had exactly what she wanted. Areica reveled in it.

Her legs shook as a wild energy spread through her body. It felt like she was sucking him into herself and whatever made the vampire a living entity became a part of her. What he was and what she was mingled. She dug herself into that energy, drowning in it then drinking it up into her being. The sensation spasmed her muscles that started around the stiffness she rode, then up her body.

Areica screamed out, calling her master's name over and over again like a chant as that final release washed over her. The man beneath her tensed and growled while pushing her hips on him more securely. Her hips wiggled more than bounced under his demanding grip. Head thrown back and back arching, he pushed into her, stretching the quaking wetness around him to its limit. A smile twitched his lips as he grunted one last time. Finally, he spilled his seed into her.

He held his hands out to her, opening himself. With a quiet moan, she flopped onto him. Gently, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight. He placed an almost fatherly kiss on her sweaty brow.

"Good work, princess." He said with a content chuckle.

Areica could not speak. She was exhausted, but in a wonderful way. And she felt full . . . so full--in many ways, at that. He was still hard inside of her, but growing softer. Not wanting to lose that sensation quite yet, she shifted to pull more of him inside. The movement of her hips caused another grunt from her master. His hips moved upward, thrusting into her deeply.

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