“Holy shit!” My voice was tiny, and almost a whisper. I froze like a deer in headlights.

I wasn’t sure if I should scream or not.

 Do I really want to call attention to my own nervous breakdown? Surely, I have gone insane. 

Whoa, he is so… beautiful. 

No longer was he this hazy image in my mind, but warm and living flesh with its crisp and defined edges. His hair was straight and black, and fell casually over his forehead as he leaned over me. Feeling his body against mine, I could tell he was long, lean, and muscular in all the right ways. 

However, I had a hard time taking my eyes off his face for even a millisecond. I stared at his wide lips for a moment, the way they crinkled at the corners in amusement. My gaze drifted to his almost too-straight nose, accentuating a narrow but strong jawline. His eyebrows were dense but sleek. They trailed off to the sides of his face in a pointed arch, and provided sublime emphasis to each expression. Thick black lashes framed his most disarming feature, his eyes. 

Those eyes stared down at me, patient, amused, and curious. They seemed to glow in the dimness of the room, a unique blue-green color. It was like looking into shallow ocean water, the kind I’d seen in ads designed to lure people to their dream vacations. There was something unnatural about the way those arresting eyes subtly reflected the light. Something I’d never seen before. Something . . . other.

I unfroze to take in all the air I could fit into my lungs. That fraction of a shift was all it took to make the light in the room refract intensely through his pupils. Before, I had only witnessed that in cats and wild animals at night. I froze again, biting my lip, and if it was possible, my eyes were even wider than before.

He broke the silence that hung heavily in the air. “Have you decided whether you are going to scream or not?”

“You. . .  are not . . . human.” The words left my mouth in a long exhale.

 “No. I am not,” he agreed plainly. 

“Then what…” I choked. “What are you?” I struggled to keep my breath even and flowing.

He tilted his head to look at me from the corners of his eyes. “The labels have to come out so soon? They always do, I suppose,” he said passively. He then began to delicately trace his fingertips along my neck and jawline, and gently brushed wisps of hair back from my face. 

Despite being paralyzed in fear, the faint grazing of his fingertips against my skin triggered shivers of arousal through me.

He spoke softly. “Our kind has many names, some of them nastier than others. In your language, we have been called night demons. A name I never much cared for. Demons have such a bad reputation.” His eyes darted back up and locked in with mine. “However, most people would probably call us--”

“Incubus.” I whispered. As the word formed on my lips, I pressed my head back into my pillow hard, to gain those extra inches of distance between my face and his. 

His lips stretched into a wide smile “Oh, indeed, she is clever! Yes, you have the potential to be so very interesting.”

I found that to be unsettling. I had read enough of mythology and lore to know that an incubus was a demon that seduces women while they sleep. I brazenly blurted out my next question without thinking. “Aren’t demons evil?!” 

He laughed a little too loudly, with maybe a hint of resentment. “Evil? What exactly is evil?!” His eyes brightened and he shifted his weight. “I'll tell you what evil is. Evil is all a matter of perception. Evil is when someone does something you don't like or agree with. Or maybe something you just plain do not understand. After all, even good people can do true evil with the purest of intentions.” He continued on very matter of fact. “Do I think I’m evil? No, I do not.” 

I was taken aback by his philosophical answer. Though my fear had not been forgotten, my curiosity was growing rapidly. I mustered the courage to speak more boldly. “Okay… It doesn't take a genius to gather why you are here, but what in the hell do you want with me? Why don’t you go find some female incubus to roll around with?”

“Succubus,” he corrected.

“Right. Succubus,” I said both a little embarrassed, a little annoyed, and still completely freaked out.

He puckered his mouth to the side. “We can't get what we need from another succubus, or incubus. I’m not here for sexual satisfaction.” 

His answer dredged up more lore from the corners of my mind, and was suddenly overcome again with new feelings of anxiousness.

 I remember now! “You feed off humans! You take their life force when you have sex with them don't you? Oh shit!” I started to hyperventilate. But I don't understand! Is he here to rape me? I began to lose whatever cool I had managed up until that point.

His eyebrows came together, and he frowned. It was as if my alarm was causing him distress, and for a moment I almost felt sorry that I could cause such a look to linger upon his splendid features.

“Shh-shh-shhh. Please calm down. Please! Your angst is unpleasant,” He winced with his finger resting lightly on my lips, and then promptly sat up and backed off from me completely.

“What?” I snapped, while squirming away from him “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” 

“Please just calm down, and I will explain,”he spoke urgently. “If I was here to hurt you, I would have done so already, true?” 

By this point I was tremendously confused, but the seeming logic in his words softened my growing panic. 

He gave me a theatrical look of a wounded puppy, while his fingers went to his temples.

 In my moment of freedom, I chose to prop myself up on my elbows. It was the first step in getting up to run away, if need be, though he apparently lacked any intent to attack or restrain me. My heart finally felt less like it was going to escape my body by jumping out my throat.  I could see him visibly relax as I felt my own tension ease.

It was at that moment my gaze swept over his body, which was shirtless, but wearing trim black pants.

Whoa, good gravy, that's a beautiful man. I swallowed, and feeling rude, averted my wide eyes to the ceiling. Heat rushed my cheeks.

He took in my expression, chuckled and sighed. “Too much as of yet? I could put a shirt on if that would make you feel more comfortable.”  With a wave of his hand and a curling shimming of dark mist he held a fabric garment in his hand, and made the gesture as if to start putting it on.

I started to bite the side of my finger out of nervous habit, while I resumed eyeing his perfect features. In reply, I made a barely audible squeak at him, which was meant to be something to the effect of “Nah, you’re good.  You just keep doing you.”

He loosed a soft laugh. “Alright then.” In a similar swirl, the shirt then disappeared again. Now, where were we?” He continued smoothly.

Having witnessed what I could only deem as magic, I decided that I was definitely trapped in a very strange wet dream, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me from getting to the bottom of things. “What do you want from me?” 

He gave me an alluring smile. “Your pleasure.”

“Um… what?” Nuts. I’m completely nuts. Or definitely dreaming. Or maybe both. I gnawed on my finger harder, hoping the sting of my teeth into flesh would wake me from my bizarre delusion.

“Well, it would be rudimentary to simply say I feed off your life force. I do take in some of your energy, so to speak. To be more specific, I drink in your pleasure.” He allowed me a moment to absorb that idea before continuing. “Human pleasure has a unique energy that is strong and can sustain me. And best, it is a renewable resource. So, when I say you have nothing to fear, it is because there is no benefit whatsoever to me hurting you, and all the profit to gain in making sure you are happy, and enjoying yourself thoroughly.”

He spoke with a sense of sensuality that sent a shiver up my spine.

He reached out and began to delicately trace his fingertips on my skin again, caressing my shoulder and trailing down my arm. He followed the curves of my body with his eyes tenderly. “I also want you to know that I am very, very skilled at making people . . . happy. You see, being what I am, makes me empathic.”

That rang a bell. I had read about empaths in one of my favorite science fiction novels. “Like a psychic?” I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted him to stop touching me. I definitely liked the tingling feeling it left behind. It was such an enticing sensation. Though I felt completely bananas for feeling anything near turned on while so alarmed.

“Mmm, to be specific, I cannot read your thoughts, but I can feel what you are feeling.”

“So, it like, hurts for you when I am upset?”

He pressed his lips together firmly and nodded his head. “It definitely is not pleasant.”

Something in his demeanor told me he would go to great lengths to avoid things that he deemed unpleasant. “Empathy is the most fitting tool to make sure that you get what you need, and that I get what I need, because I cannot be truly satisfied. . .” he leaned in closer so that his lips were just inches from my ear, “until I completely gratify your most visceral desires.”

It felt like I had butterflies fluttering around my ribcage. He was obviously exceptionally talented at the whole seduction thing. “Okay then.” I took in an immense breath, hoping that the influx of air would help clear the fuzzy feeling hindering my ability to rationalize. “Why me then?” I felt like I was asking the same question over and over.

“Why not you then, Celeste?”

I stared at him flatly, resenting his deflection.

He chuckled. “Oh, fine then. If you must know, it was not any single thing. First off, you wanted me, or at least the idea of me. I could sense that. We choose our companions carefully, and they need to be open-minded to our mutually beneficial exchange.” He paused thoughtfully, tilting his head. “You . . . are also louder than most. You were easy to find because I could hear your needs from far away.”

That had me puzzled. “I’m loud?”

“Yes. Quite.” He slowly leaned in taking advantage of my stupor and kissed my neck, letting his lips remain almost too long upon my skin.

There was a reality to those kisses that my imaginings could barely touch upon. My synapses fired in response to the contact. I sharply took in another breath making a hissing sound. I then placed my hand on his shoulder and pressed him back. “You are the voice I heard yesterday! You called my name! How long have you been following me?”

“Not too terribly long,” he said coolly, but his tone turned somber. “Sometimes it was hard to bear. You are often unhappy. If we were not so compatible, I am not sure I would be here. But I made a choice, and here I am. So now, please, allow me to show you what complete bliss feels like.” He leaned in toward me again. 

Wow. He is eager to get right to it, isn’t he! 

I moved my hand to his chin, covering his sultry lips with my thumb. The action sent a tingling sensation rippling through my gut.

“Hold your horses, Cowboy. I have more questions,” I said, somehow managing to keep my voice steady.

He nibbled on my thumb with a mischievous look in his eye. He knew what he was doing to me. If what he claimed was true, he could probably sense the reaction my body had to his every caress. I let my eyes wash over his stunning features once more. Every inch of him was a work of art. He was the epitome of “my type.” I thought it unlikely that anyone else could possibly find him as beautiful as I did. It’s like he was made for me. 

Did I really dream him up?  

“You said we were compatible . . .” He patiently let me take a moment to compile the rest of my question. I thought of his magically-appearing shirt. “If you are an incubus, then do you always look like this? Or is this just some illusion you made just for me?” I speculated that he might have a tail and red skin, like the creepy little cartoon devils I saw growing up.

“Oh, your questions are good! You are indeed sharp. I like that.”

Huh? I then wondered if the over-the-top flattery was part of his people-pleasing skills.

“I actually do look like this. Being physically appealing to you is a typical attribute to our compatibility. This way I do not have to expend extra energy to try and please you by looking different.”

That’s good news, I suppose. “You can do that?” Would he do that?

“Yes.”

I pondered the idea, and quickly decided there was nothing to improve upon. Nothing. His eyes glinted and he prowled toward me like a cat, crossing his arm back over my torso. “You want me,” he said without question.

“I um . . . I . . . I don’t know.” I shuddered, suddenly very nervous again.

He breathed with a hint of exasperation, but his expression remained warm. As he blinked quickly, his eyelashes fluttered open and closed like exotic butterfly wings. 

“I know you want me, but you need to be certain of your desires. So, I am asking you to take a moment. Figure it out for yourself. This doesn't have to be complicated. I will wait. After you have made your decision, if you want me to leave, then I shall go. It's that simple. And, if you want me to stay--” He trailed off, a confident smile lit up his face.

Oh god, that is sexy.

My mind began to race. There was too much pressure in that moment. It was such an immense decision to make.

 He’s not wrong. Obviously, I am attracted to him. He definitely turns me on, even when I’m so nervous. But do I want to lose my virginity like this? He is not even human! 

Wait, does that even count then? It's not like he loves me either. Wasn't that what I was waiting for so long? Love and trust? Do I trust him? I have no real reason to trust him, which would make me a complete idiot to follow through with this. 

Or, would I be a complete moron for passing up one of the most amazing opportunities of any woman's lifetime? I have a man before me sure to be skilled in pleasing, with promises to excite and pleasure me probably beyond what any other man can offer sexually. His every action will revolve around the simple concept of whether I like it or not... That puts me in a position of unbelievable power.

 If I believe everything he has told me so far, and I think I do, then I feel relatively safe. Maybe, that is all I ever truly wanted for my first time. I’ve told myself time and time again, I wanted losing my virginity to be special. This being special would be an understatement!

With that, I had formed my decision, but I couldn’t find the words to say it aloud. My body started to tremble a little from the excitement. And my eyes locked onto his and I could see with perfect clarity that he knew. He waited, looming over me so calmly, with an incandescent smile on his visage to encourage me. 

What is he waiting for if he knows my decision? 

I then realized he wanted me to declare it, so I would never have any reason to doubt it was my own. 

I acted on impulse. Taking hold of his magnificent head, I boldly pressed my lips onto his. That moment felt like a firework and all of my inhibitions started to burn away. I pulled back and released an unsteady breath. “Yes.”

 He grinned broadly and leaned in again to kiss me back. Our tongues stroked each other’s with a perfect level of firmness. His fingers wrapped around the back of my neck and he carefully cradled my head. I felt my carnal need grow, broiling inside me. 

Everything began to feel more urgent. He peeled back the blankets that were a barrier between us. Once through the layers, he paused and smiled at me, as if to tell me, he liked what he saw. I had worn a tank top and cotton underwear to bed out of sheer laziness. I couldn’t imagine what he found appealing. The thought occurred to me that he looked like a kid about to tear through some gift wrap to get to a present. That idea nearly made me smirk right back at him. With his help, I pulled my tank over my head, exposing my breasts. He admired them briefly, before he sat up and slowly pulled down my panties.

This is real! This is really happening! 

I swallowed hard as my mouth began to water with that realization. There was a literal aching in my lower abdomen, and a swelling feeling began to take over my loins. I felt like I might die of anticipation, if not from the nervousness.

Soon his garment was gone. I had missed its departure completely. I suspected that they disappeared with a wave of his hand, or maybe a blink of an eye. He lowered his body down toward my own. I was all too aware of the stiff part of him that pressed firmly against my thigh. I felt like my posture was awkward; I didn’t know whether to spread my legs or to maintain my prudish position until he guided me further through the experience. In that moment of hesitation, I deliberated one final time. 

This is supposed to be the part where he puts on the condom. 

“What is it?” he breathed.

I then chewed on my lower lip, not sure how to broach the subject. 

I was right. This is awkward.

He lowered his lips to my ear and spoke seductively. “What do you desire, my mistress?” 

I shivered before responding. “Ummmm . . . could you put on a condom?”

He chuckled and looked down at me with mirthful eyes. “I will not get you pregnant, if that is what troubles you.”

That sounds like a standard line that a sleazebag would use. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Won’t, or can’t?”

“That is a little complicated. Right now, you just need to know that I will not.”

“What about STDs?” I prodded on in paranoia. “Undoubtedly you have been with a lot of women.” I hastily added, “Not that I mind that. It’s just . . .”

“That is also a complicated topic, but I assure you, there is no need to fret. I cannot carry diseases.” He sighed and smiled resolutely. “All of this is irrelevant, of course, because I know you will not be happy until you feel safe. So, I will do anything to make you feel safe.” He brought his hands together, and with an odd gesture pulled them apart. I stared in surprise as a gold wrapper fell from midair into his hand. 

 He brought the small package seductively to his lips and began to tear the wrapper carefully between his teeth. His eyes remain locked on mine.

Once its precious contents were released, he continued to look me in the eye as he secured it in place with one hand. When the task was completed, he leaned in to kiss me gingerly once more. 

That wasn't so bad after all, I guess.

He pulled away again with a measuring look, and then carefully nudged his knee between my thighs spreading them apart. It was evident by his expression, that he could feel my anxiety, which was climbing to a new height.

He paused and his brow furrowed. “This is your first time, isn’t it?” He asked with complete sincerity and sympathy. 

“Yes.” I said just above a whisper.

He bit his lower lip momentarily. “I will not hurt you,” he said reassuringly.

“I know.” I said this in part because I knew my hymen was long gone. I had accidentally broke it years ago. 

I also realized that I inexplicably trusted this stranger of a man, this curious creature.  It was remarkable, because trust was not a thing that came to me easily.

He kissed me again letting his mouth linger softly upon mine, and slowly he adjusted his position, and slid into me. It was the most tremendous sensation, a relief to feel him inside me, quelling the ache of a space that needed to be filled.

I shoved my fingers inside my mouth and bit down to avoid making any outburst.

If I wake anyone up, it might possibly be the worst thing that could ever happen in all existence.

I reveled a bit in how good the pressure of him inside me felt. His size was just enough for a satisfying spread without actually making it sting. He and I were the perfect fit. I shortly pondered if that was another aspect of our being 'so compatible'.

His mouth planted sultry kisses upon my neck. He began to move rhythmically, sliding in and out with deep gratifying thrusts. I was going mad with sheer delight, my insides felt like they were on fire. Already, I was on the cusp of an orgasm. I could feel it tickle around in the back of my mind, begging for me to succumb, but I wanted to postpone it as long as I was able so I could linger in the intense sensation.

He sat up, no longer planking over me, and his hands began to travel. One slid up my torso, resting upon a breast, and then gently massaged it. His other hand moved south, cupping my backside for a moment before continuing its journey down my leg. He closed a grip on my ankle and gently pulled my leg into the air above me. It was a position that didn't feel as awkward as I’m sure it looked. Still, I was grateful for my flexibility in that moment.

He began moving again, and I immediately realized his motives. He shifted slightly to the left and right, soon finding a wonderful place deep inside me. It registered faintly on his face when he found what he was looking for. 

It occurred to me his empathic talent was like a radar detector, enabling him to sense when he hit the most delightful places. He continued to glide in and out of me, manipulating that region with his movements.

 It took all that I had to keep from crying out. Fortunately, that distraction was helpful with putting off my climax. His hand on my breast then moved down to my lower abdomen. He flattened his palm and then firmly pressed down into my torso. It made the sensation of the tip of him inside me just that much more distinct, and I could no longer hold out. 

 I went to delightful pieces. I think it was the most powerful climax I’d ever had. No surprise, it left me gasping for breath and curling my toes. The intense pulsing and tightening lasted for longer than usual. My one hand grasped the back of his head, gently tugging his hair in that fierce moment. His eyes rolled upwards in rapture, and he bit his lower lip hard. This was what he was there for. It was what he needed, and it was so gratifying to see him get it, pleasure for pleasure.

When that first overwhelming surge subsided, I was quickly taken by the desire for another. I nearly set him off balance on top of me as I grabbed hold of his hips and began to grind into him. He had little chance to react, but looked pleasantly surprised. It didn't take me long. I chased the spark in the back of my mind, luring me to another climax just waiting to be had. I moved faster and faster. He moaned in response, which in turn amazed me. Soon I had my way, and a second climax sent tiny tremors through my body; I arched into him. My hand slid up his back as he grabbed a fistful of pillow on each side of my head. If it were possible for us to press any tighter together, we did. His brow furrowed, his eyes shut tight and his jaw hung slightly in an expression that looked almost painful. He let out a sound of relief and relaxed. He was spent. I was spent.

He lay on top of me for some time. With urgency no longer ruling my awareness, I basked in the sensation, just feeling his body against mine. We both gradually caught our breath, smiles plastered on each of our faces. There was no doubt in my mind that what just transpired was one of the best experiences of my life. I couldn’t imagine it getting any better than that.

“That was something special,” he mumbled as he recovered. He looked fresher, and more vibrant than before, if that were possible.

I felt wiped out. Exhausted. Sleep seemed like a wonderful idea, but I staved off that feeling to stay in the moment. I nodded at him assuming he said that to everyone. I didn’t care. 

He is beautiful. What he did to me was . . . beautiful.

He propped up on his forearms. “No, I am serious, that was . . . You being that loud made it so . . . extraordinary.” He laughed as though he could hardly believe it.

My eyelids felt heavy, my limbs like cooked noodles. “I am so tired.” I said weakly.

“I know. That is normal.” he said with a small sympathetic smile. “Your weariness is part of the exchange. With rest, it will pass.”

I closed my eyes slowly and it took a good deal of willpower to coax them back open. I stared into his shimmering blue-green eyes. They were so earnest at that moment.

“What is your name?” I asked.

 His smile grew. “You are welcome to give me one.”

I looked up at him skeptically. 

Fine. I’ll play. I closed my eyes. I told myself it was just to help me think. A name sprang to the front of my mind within moments.

“Damien.”

He laughed lightly. “I like it.”

Lethargy crept into my voice. “Someone once told me that it meant demon. I always loved the name despite that.” I murmured, before failing to restrain a yawn.

“Not quite,” he said softly. “Its origin is Greek. It means, ‘he who tames’.”

I smiled at that, without thinking it over too deeply. My eyes were still closed, and before I knew it I had plunged into the depths of the sea of sleep.