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He shakes his head. “My mother was a succubus.”
A demon that devours lust. I’ve heard stories. Warnings. They rape you when you are asleep, seduce you when you are awake. They drain you dry of life, feeding on your energy, until you shrivel into a husk of a corpse.
Fear chills my blood. “And you?”
“I’m an incubus. Half. I inherited some tendencies from my mother.”
“Which?”
“For me, lust is a distraction.” His voice roughens. “An obsession.”
I clench my jaw and resist the urge to confess that I’m in heat. Telling him would do nothing to improve my situation.
“Sometimes,” he adds, “I can’t resist temptation.”
“You said you don’t force yourself on women,” I say, my words sharper than steel.
He locks gazes with me. “Never. That isn’t what I mean by lust. Rape is violence.”
“Then what do you mean?”
He closes his eyes for a moment, as if to calm himself. “I’m trying to do my job, not lose myself to mindless fucking.”
A shiver runs down my spine. “Would I die?”
“What?”
“If we slept together.”
“No.” Rook raises an eyebrow. “I kill my enemies with a sword. Or a dagger. Steel is faster. Need I say more?”
“But—”
“An incubus doesn’t need to drain their lover. They can sip the pleasure, savor it, one fuck at a time.”
The way he says it in a raw voice makes me sure he’s imagining exactly how he would wring every drop of bliss from my body. Tension pools in the pit of my stomach like molten gold. I want him to show me how.
His words turn icy smooth. “But don’t bother tempting me. I won’t free you just to fuck you. Well, maybe only after you melt that lock.”
My stomach somersaults. He can’t be serious. Will he reward me by fucking me?
Out loud, I tell him, “God, why do you have to be so professional?”
When he smiles, damn, he’s handsome. “I appreciate the compliment.”
We keep walking through the lush forest of maples. Rather than brooding silence, Rook hums an unfamiliar song under his breath. I trace the wicked curve of his horns with my gaze, imagining what they would feel like in my hands. Imagining his body over mine and his hard cock jutting from his leather trousers.
I’m playing with fire.
But I’m a dragon. I like fire.
How dangerous could one night with an incubus be?
CHAPTERSIX
Wind whirls down from the mountains and steals the heat from my skin.
I’m shivering under the borrowed cloak as I ride Bolt. The tiny hairs on my arms prickle. Rook doesn’t even notice. The bastard must be warm in his leather armor and his tight leather trousers. Damn, his ass is distracting.
