Carnal (Her Dark Desires #1)

BOOK: Carnal (Her Dark Desires #1)
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Chapter 1

 

BEING
A SUCCUBUS, YOU see a lot of weird shit. People have needs, after all.
Fetishes. But this one took the cake.

“Um-kay,”
I said, observing the brown, furry costume. “Let me get this straight: you want
me to dress up as a dog and take it in the backdoor while you howl or
something?”

Norman
stomped his foot. “No! I didn’t say you were a dog! You’re going to be a Level
15 Nomad Warrior Princess, and I’m going to be the rugged Level 30 Hunter who
saves your village from the Orc attack!”

I
stared at him. “And… I’m repaying you with hot sex?”

“Not
just any sex,” Norman said, rubbing his grubby fingers together. Cheeto cheese
flaked off his fingertips onto the already grimy floor. His tiny apartment
looked like it had never seen a vacuum or furniture polish. “It’s the sacred
mating ritual of the Nomad clans. And you have to use the language of the
Northern Dragonlord Nomads.”

I
raised my brows. “So I’m a princess, I can swing a sword, and I have a pet
dragon? I’m down with that.”

Norman
sneered at me. “Are you making fun of me? I developed this game! It’s up for
Game of the Year, I’ll have you-”

“Sorry,
sorry! It’s just, um, different, that’s all. I’ve never, uh, had to be a
sword-wielding, dragon-taming, warrior princess slut.”

He
laughed but ended up snorting. With his pudgy face and upturned nose, I almost
expected him to
oink
too. “Unbelievable. I can’t believe this is really
happening. My dream come true! I could never get my past girlfriends to play
along.”

“No
shit?” I said with a little laugh.

“So,”
he said, running his tongue along his fat lips. “Shall I help you change?”

It
took some serious willpower not to gag on the fumes wafting out of his mouth.
Had he brushed his teeth this week?

“Um,
would you, er, like that?” I reluctantly asked.

He
reached down his pants and rubbed his crotch, getting a dreamy-eyed look on his
face. “I’ve never seen a naked woman in person before. All I’ve had are
pictures and Angelina.”

“Jolie?”

Norman
rolled his eyes. “
No
, Jolie is in the corner. I only have her on Wednesday
nights, and only if I defeat the Dungeon Master. Angelina takes care of me
every other time.”

I
looked where he was pointing. A collection of obviously worn sock puppet dolls,
complete with huge tits, sat in the corner. I didn’t want to think about where
the stains came from.

I
nodded, as if I wasn’t grossed out. “I see.”

“So
can you really shape-shift?” Norman asked. “My dungeon-raid buddy, Danny, told
me
Vixens
are really werewolves.”


Succubi
,
to be exact,” I said. “And yes, we can, um, shape-shift.” I mumbled that last
part, pretending to be acutely interested in the cherry soda on his cluttered
desk.

Norman’s
face lit up with glee. “I’m in Heaven! I get such a boner whenever I see Lilith
that I end up nearly tearing Angelina apart just trying to get rid of it.”

“Wait,
who’s Lilith?”

“She’s
the henchwoman you have to defeat in the last level of the Ice Palace. She’s so
fucking hot! Her tits are the size of -”

“Okay,
okay, I get it,” I said, deciding to cut him off. Something told me I’d be here
all night if he got chatty about his games. “So, shall I put on some music and
get this party started?”

“Oh!
I like music!”

You’d
think the way he was clapping his hands together, I was his mother, and I’d
just told him we could go to the candy shop. Then again, this experience
probably
was
going to be like a candy shop for a guy like Norman.

“All
right then,” I said, spinning around and trying to locate a free outlet to plug
in my portable stereo. “I’ll just plug this in, and we’ll- SHIT!” Something
caught my six-inch stilettos and sent me flying into his entertainment center.
My lip lit up with pain, and I banged my head on the wood on the way down. The
warm tang of blood in my mouth alerted me I had either busted out a tooth or
split my lip. “Son of a -”

“Are
you okay?
Oh
.”

I
looked up. Norman’s eyes were glued to my rear, which was still stuck up in the
air.

And
very bare.

Who
needed to wear panties when they were just going to get ripped off? Victoria’s
Secret was expensive to replace, not to mention I’d lost a lot of favorites
from my lingerie collection that way.

Norman’s
mouth formed an “O” shape, and his hand worked inside his pants with growing
fervor.

I
sighed. Screw the stereo. I was getting out of here ASAP.

Straightening,
I composed myself with a smile and yanked my shirt off, leaving me standing in
my bra. “Why don’t we get right to the point? I don’t want to waste any more of
your-”

“Can
I play with them?” Norman was staring straight at my breasts. His request was
whispered, as if he were asking to hold the Holy Grail and not my boobs.

Gritting
my teeth, I said, “Yeah. Sure.”

“Can
you make them, you know, bigger? Yours aren’t very big.”

My
smile hitched. Now he was in bitchslap territory. “Of course,” I drawled with
fake enthusiasm. “Whatever you’d like, sir. You’re the one paying for my hour.”

I
closed my eyes and tried to picture my boobs growing bigger. Nerves made my
stomach flop.
Come on, Sally. You’ve got this shape-shifting thing down. The
tiger incident was just one time. That man didn’t really want to have kids
anyway, right?
My skin tingled as my body took another form, feeling
ticklish rather than unpleasant.

“Ugh!
What the hell is
that
?”

My
eyes flashed open. I looked down. My breasts had apparently merged into one
giant uni-boob. “Um,” I said, feeling my heart rate notch up, “just give me a
moment. I’ll fix it.”

“Sick!”

Ignoring
Norman’s commentary as best I could, I closed my eyes and refocused my
shape-shifting efforts.

Norman
burst out laughing.

“What
now?” I growled, opening my eyes. My boobs were back to normal. Well, sort of.
There were two of them anyway, only one was a heck of a lot bigger than the
other.

Norman
fell to the ground and rolled around, clutching his gut and farting between
laughs. “You’re horrible! A succubus who isn’t sexy? I never would have thought
of it!”

“Shut
up!” I snapped, then held my tongue. If Elias had heard I was mouthing off to a
client, I’d be toast for sure. But if I came back without absorbing any energy,
he’d know something had gone wrong anyway.

Damn.
It. All.

Closing
my eyes, I concentrated one last time. This time, Norman went silent. I peeked
a look at my breasts. They were equally sized, impressive double D’s large
enough to make a porn star jealous.

I
sighed with relief. That was cl-

Norman
pounced on me, knocking me to the ground. He buried his face in my boobs,
squeezing them hard.

“Ouch!”
I snapped. “That hurts!”

“They’re
so soft!” he squealed, licking them and leaving behind a long trail of drool.
“I want to bite your nipple.”

“No,
no, no!” I said, smacking his mouth away. At his hurt look, I ran a hand
through my long, black hair and said, “Look, I’m sorry. But rule number one of
handling a woman is to be gentle. I know Angelina and Jolie can take a lot of
abuse, but they’re made out of cloth, so they don’t care how you treat them.”

Norman
nodded, eyes glued to my humongous breasts. “Gentle. I can be very gentle…” The
last few words were muffled as he smothered himself in my boobs.

The
skin along my chest and arms tingled as his soul began seeping into me. I
sighed. It’d been a while since I’d had such a pure soul. Norman might be a
creep, but he was harmless.

After
a few more minutes of sucking on my boobs so hard I was sure to have bruises, I
pried him off and said, “Why don’t we do your skit? You were really looking
forward to that.”

I
could only imagine the energy boost this guy would give me, if he made it that
long. The sweeter the soul, the harsher first contact with a succubus or incubus
was.

And
Norman’s soul was ripe for the picking.

Norman
stood and swayed. I steadied him as he reached for the costume. “Yeah,” he
slurred, his eyes fluttering shut, “I’ll just, um, get that fer yeh…”

He
fell face-first on the bed, knocking over the partially finished popcorn bowl
and sending kernels flying everywhere.

I
stood there, staring at my fast-asleep client. “Seriously?”

When
it became clear he wasn’t waking up anytime soon, I threw my hands up in the
air with an exasperated growl, grabbed my stuff, and left.

“What
a bust,” I grumbled, shoulders downtrodden as I walked down the stairs and out
the side door. The cool Kansas air helped rejuvenate me as I walked toward my
little used Honda Civic.

I
loved fall, because it meant I got to wear cute sweaters and jackets. Plus, the
foliage was so pretty, being dyed colors of gold, red, and orange this time of
year.

Being
a Sunday, near midnight, there wasn’t a soul in sight. The sky was overcast,
leaving the dim streetlamps as the only source of light, and the air was an odd
mixture of garbage and dust.

I
smiled.
Smells like Athens, Kansas.

The
sound of my heels striking concrete echoed off the buildings around me as I
walked, the only sound breaking the comfortable silence, save for the city
background noise. Even though Athens was located only ten miles outside of
Kansas City, it was about a third of the size and subsequently, tended to shut
down around nine p.m. Or after church on a Sunday, usually around seven p.m.

The
events - or lack thereof - from this week poured through my mind, fueling my
agitation.

This
was only the second client I’d had this week, and neither had resulted in sex.
While succubi could pull energy through any means of contact, direct
penetration was the best method for claiming the most soul the quickest.

I
narrowed my eyes. This was also the second time this week I’d been told I
wasn’t sexy. Actually, that was kind of a recurring theme with my feedback. I
was taking strides to improve that, but nothing seemed to be working so far.

“Not
sexy my ass,” I grumbled. “I can be sexy. I can be a freaking smoke machine!”

Wham!

I’d
turned the corner without looking where I was going and plowed into what
appeared to be a garbage bag, sitting right in the middle of the sidewalk.

Luckily,
I was able to reclaim my balance, and I whirled around to look for the
offending object. “What the hell?”

I
stopped. The bag was gone.

Confused,
I looked around. Nope, still no bag.

“Wow,”
a voice behind me said. “Did I luck out.”

Gasping,
I turned to find a man at least six feet tall looking down on me with a hungry
leer. But being cornered by a strange man in an abandoned alley wasn’t what
worried me.

It
was the fangs hanging over his bottom lip that sent my heart racing.

Frantically,
I reached into my purse, groping for my key chain which held my Silver Mist
bottle. Instead of pepper spray, paranormals carried Silver Mist, which was
basically fine silver particles that would burn the shit out of a were or vamp.

The
vampire walked toward me, one slow, deliberate step at a time. With his
scraggly hair, long, unkempt beard, and dirty clothes, he looked and smelled
more like a bum than one of the aristocratic undead.

That
didn’t make him any less dangerous. If anything, it made him twice as much of a
threat.

“You’re
pretty,” he said, that creepy grin inching up his face. “And you smell good.
Like sex and cotton candy.”

Huh.
Well, that was a new one. Since succubi were masters of attraction, our scents
could also attract victims. Our bodies would take on the smell of our prey’s
favorite smells. Curiously, it was vampires who smelled sex the most,
regardless of whether they were male or female.

I
swallowed hard, backing away at a steady clip and searching my peripheral
vision for exits. The alley didn’t seem this long when I was walking down it a
moment ago. And where was my damn spray?

The
vampire licked his lips, his eyes glowing fiery red. “Just a bite,” he moaned,
hands making to grab me. “I’m so hungry. Mice and stray cats don’t have much
blood to offer.”

My
fight-or-flight instinct kicked into high throttle. Dropping the stereo, I
wheeled about and took off at a dead sprint, running as fast as my heels could
carry me. It was a miracle I didn’t sprain my ankle.

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