Page 8 of Snowed In with an Incubus

Her smile dimmed. “I didn’t expect to be talking you into this.”

Every snide comment he’d overheard about incubi echoed through his head. He stiffened. “Right, because incubi are just mindlesssex machines.”

“What? No!” She sat up, hand dropping off his knee. “I just thought—shit. I’m sorry.”

Embarrassment flowed off her in waves, hot and sickly sweet. He watched the blood rise in her cheeks. Everything was washedin pink from his fire vision, but he could still see the skin darken. It made his mouth water. He wanted to watch her skindarken in other places, too. Wanted to put his mouth on her breasts, her hips, her thighs. Suck a bruise into the crook ofher neck—

His back pulsed. The wings were almost manifesting.

“You weren’t wrong,” he said. “I just … I don’t want anyone thinking of me as that creature from the movies. That seductive,manipulative demon who only has one thing on his mind and doesn’t care who he hurts to get it.”

Jaz’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. He’d gotten snappish at the end, he acknowledged as he rubbed his sweaty forehead wherehis horns were threatening to emerge. He just … never talked about this stuff. Other monsters tried to bring it up sincehe moved to Claw Haven, but he always made jokes until they backed off, or failing that, he backed off himself. Reg was themost persistent out of all of them. You can’t move to a monster town and then never show your horns, he liked to say. But he shut up when Sam tried to leave the conversation. Which was often. Because Sam didn’t talk about this. He didn’t see the point. Being an incubus meant he had to take a potion every week, and he had to focus on not losing himselfduring sex. In all other parts of his life, he was a normal guy. Nothing monstrous about him.

“I’m sorry,” Jaz repeated, still stinking of embarrassment. “I thought …”

She thought he wasn’t attracted to her. He almost laughed. He was so attracted to her that he’d had to stop himself from leaningin during the tattoo and licking up the sweat from around the ink.

“It’s on my mind,” he said. “It’s just not the only thing. And I won’t hurt anyone for it.”

A fresh wave of pain rushed through him. He bent over with it, shaking. It took everything he had to force his wings to stayunder his skin, his tail from bursting out, his horns to stay inside his head. He was in control. Not the hunger.

When he looked up again, Jaz’s face had changed. So had her scent. No more embarrassment, thick and cloying. In its placewas a sweet, heady determination.

“The way I see it,” she started, “we have two options. One of us sleeps in the back room. Or …”

She paused. Her hand came up again, and for a second, he thought she would touch his knee. But it kept rising, shaking herjacket pile off until she was just in her long-sleeve shirt.

She trailed a hand over her collarbone. Sam found himself leaning forward before he realized it and had to jerk back.

She splayed her fingers underneath her shirt collar. “You can smell it, right? How much I want you?”

“Yeah,” he rasped. His dry throat clicked. “I can—I can taste it.”

Her breath hitched. Her pupils swelled, and he swayed with the desire to blow them even bigger and make her mouth drop openin pure pleasure. He’d always been good at that, always been giving. He’d made sure of it. It was the closest he ever came to losing himself during sex—when he had a woman crying out in ecstasyagainst him, unable to do anything but take it as wave after wave of rapture washed over her. He didn’t believe in that purposecrap, but during those moments, it was hard not to believe that was what he was made for. That his purpose on earth was towring every last drop of satisfaction out of them until they couldn’t take it.

Jaz’s lips parted. “What do I taste like?”

“So good,” he said, hushed. “God, so good.”

She pulled her first shirt button free. The flush ran down to her chest and into her bra. The desire was so heavy he coulddrink it in. He could feed, finally. He’d gotten sips of it, accidental inhales when he wasn’t concentrating with his girlfriends, but he’d never hadit on offer like this. Never been told he could drink his fill.

Jaz leaned back against the couch and took off her shirt. Then she undid her bra. Her breasts spilled out, and he heard himselfmoan. He wouldn’t be able to keep his horns in, he realized as the hunger threatened to overwhelm him. He was going to change,no matter how hard he tried to stop it. Not that he cared much right now; it was difficult to care about anything with Jazsplayed out in front of him, delicious and waiting.

Jaz grinned up at him.

“Come on, hungry boy,” she whispered. “Eat up.”

Chapter 4

This is not where I expected to end up today, Jaz thought dazedly as Sam sucked on her breasts. But I’m not complaining.

Sam moaned, the noise muffled against her skin. He had her pressed against the back of the couch, thumbs rubbing surprisinglysoftly at her waist. His mouth worked at her nipple—licking, sucking, biting—before he pulled back, strained. Like he wasstopping himself. Jaz wasn’t worried that he would take it too far.

She’d only known him for a couple of hours, but he’d been so resolute that he wouldn’t hurt her. Then again, she did havea habit of being too trusting. Maybe she should be afraid. But it was difficult to be afraid of Sam, who had been so sweet to her.

Sam shuddered. Jaz gasped as she felt a strange flowing sensation underneath her skin, hot and tingling. He’s eating me, she thought, grinning. That was what incubi did, right? They sucked up desire and fed on it. Jaz never knew it would feelso nice.

She pulled his face up, looking into those burning eyes. “Still with me?”