Succubi Chapter 55. I Don't Follow Their Rules
"Dessert?" I repeated, eyebrows lifting.
It wasn't that I didn't understand what she meant.
I wasn't that dense.
I just… needed a second.
A second to play dumb.
To breathe.
To delay whatever infernal rollercoaster this was about to become.
Lilith's smile was slow and devastating. "Mmhm."
I cleared my throat. "What about… the 'turn' thing you mentioned before? You know. With the others?"
Her eyes sparkled—amber and dangerous. "Oh, sweet Evan. I'm Lust."
She stepped forward, the candlelight catching the soft sheen of her bare thighs under the apron's hem.
"I don't follow their rules," she said, voice slipping into a velvet purr. "I need more… food than the others."
As she said that, one of her hands slid beneath the hem of my shirt—fingers brushing the base of my abs with a maddening slowness, dragging warmth in every path they traced.
"And you…" she continued, fingers now resting against the groove of my stomach like she was feeling the outline of something precious, "you taste better when you're resisting."
I inhaled sharply.
Lilith stepped closer, the soft rustle of her apron brushing against my pants. The warmth of her body bled through the fabric. There was nothing between us but suggestion—and her intentions weren't just implied anymore. They were declared.
She leaned in. Her lips barely touched my neck. Her voice, low and heady, slid into me like silk soaked in fire.
"I like playing with you," she whispered, letting her tongue graze the shell of my ear. "Watching how long you can hold it together."
I bit back a groan, jaw tightening.
"And besides…" she purred, breath hot now as her hand trailed downward—dangerously close to the waistband of my pants.
"I heard what you did with Val in the bathroom."
My spine stiffened, eyes snapping to hers.
Her grin deepened.
"Oh, don't look so shocked. Half the estate could feel the mana spike, but I was right here." Her nails lightly scraped my skin, drawing a hiss from between my teeth. "I heard every gasp. Every moan. And I—" she leaned up, pressing her breasts softly against my chest, "—got. So. Horny."
"Evaaaan~" she breathed.
She said my name again.
But not like the others.
Not like Val, or Gladia, or even Queenie when she screamed it with her usual dramatic flair.
No, this was different.
It wasn't a call.
It was a command.
And fuck me, did I want to follow.
Her hand slid behind my neck, fingers threading through my hair as she tilted my head slightly down to her level. Her lips hovered just inches from mine. Teasing. Warm. Her scent flooded my senses.
"You think you're in control," she whispered, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown wide. "But you're already mine."
My hand found her hip before I even realized it—just to ground myself. But the curve of her waist fit so perfectly beneath my palm it felt like touching temptation itself.
"You wore that apron on purpose," I said hoarsely.
"I wore it for you," she whispered back.
I looked down.
Just the apron.
Tied perfectly behind her back, the loose bow grazing her lower spine, leaving the curve of her ass completely exposed.
And she knew it.
Lilith never offered herself.
She dared me to take her.
She pulled back just enough to study me, her eyes roaming over my expression like she was reading a book only she could understand.
Then she smiled softly.
"You can say no," she murmured. "I'll leave. No questions. No teasing."
Her thumb brushed along my bottom lip, slow and reverent.
"But if you don't…"
She leaned in, her voice a whisper over my mouth.
"I'll ruin you, Evan."
She didn't need to.
I was already half there.
'Is she letting me choose?'
I stared into those molten, sin-soaked eyes.
'Really?'
She wasn't pushing. She wasn't commanding. She was offering.
I liked that.
I smirked.
Because if Lilith wanted to play seduction, fine. I'd play too.
But not her way.
My way.
The dishes were already done. Counter wiped clean. The kitchen was warm and dimly lit by the same candles that had glowed during dinner. Their light flickered across her bare legs, the satin apron hugging her body like a second skin.
But this time?
I wasn't frozen.
I stepped forward.
One slow step.
Then another.
Lilith tilted her chin, clearly amused. Her lips curled like she was waiting for me to falter, waiting to tease again.
I didn't.
I reached for her waist and pulled her to me—not gently. Not roughly. Just with intent. Like I was already claiming the moment.
She gasped, just a little.
"I like options," I murmured. "But don't forget what kind of demon I am."
Her smile quirked wider. "Pride. I know."
"Good," I said, my voice dropping. "Then let me show you how Pride plays."
I kissed her.
Not soft.
Not searching.
Possessive. Deep. The kind of kiss that said 'I'm not just reacting to you—I'm making you react to me.'
Her fingers gripped my shirt. She let out a sound in her throat—half moan, half growl. But I didn't give her room to lead. I pressed her back against the edge of the counter, one hand sliding under her apron to grip her thigh, pulling it up against my hip.
She gasped again, her breath stuttering as I bit her lower lip—just enough to leave a mark. She clung to me, but I held her still, dominant, grounded.
"You thought you could ruin me?" I murmured against her mouth. "Let's see how you handle it when I take control."
Her eyes fluttered.
Then narrowed with challenge.
Oh, she loved that.
And that made me grin.
I dragged the tie of her apron slowly—deliberately—feeling it loosen at the back. My other hand slipped up the bare skin of her leg, fingers grazing the curve of her hip, the small of her back, and then around to the swell of her ass.
She arched into me with a gasp. "Evan…"
The way she said my name?
It made heat coil in my gut.
But I didn't rush.
I grabbed the edge of the apron, pulled it aside to expose more of her. Her breath hitched. Her hands reached for my shirt—tried to pull it up—but I caught her wrists and pinned them to the counter.
"No," I growled. "Not yet."
Her lips parted. "You're teasing me now?"
I leaned in, brushing my lips along her jaw, down to her neck. "I'm returning the favor."
My mouth found the curve of her throat, and I bit—gently, then harder. Her back arched, nipples brushing against my chest through the thin fabric of my shirt.
I moved one hand down between us, past her belly, brushing lightly over her heat—bare and already slick.
"Already wet?" I murmured. "You really were listening."
She trembled beneath me. "I told you… you made me—"
I cut her off with another kiss, deep and slow, stealing the rest of her sentence.
Then I slid one finger inside her.
Her head dropped back.
She moaned.
Loudly.
And I grinned against her skin. "That's better."
I kept her pinned, kept her gasping, curling my fingers just right, pushing inside her at a slow, maddening pace. Her hands flexed beneath mine—trying to move, to grab me—but I didn't let her.
Not yet.
"You want control," I said in her ear, "but you gave it to me the moment you walked in here dressed like this."
She whimpered, legs shaking, eyes rolling back just slightly.
"And I'm going to take everything you offered," I whispered, "and more."
Her whole body shuddered.
I let go of her wrists. Just like that.
She gasped.
And immediately clung to me, pulling me closer, mouth crashing into mine again, wild and needy.
But now?
She was following my pace.
And I was just getting started.
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