Page 23
Story: Accidentally Vacationed with an Incubus (Briar Coven #2)
I stretched luxuriously, my body melting into the sheets, the deep satisfaction from last night settling into my bones. Flexing my fingers, I focused, willing my magic to respond.
Nothing.
Should I feel guilty for using up the first sliver of magic I’d gotten back in years on the most intense orgasm of my life?
Absolutely.
Did I?
Absolutely not.
“Jen.”
My body clenched at the memory. A fresh pulse of heat curled through me, my mind immediately flitting to the next scene we’d be tackling.
Kieran clings stubbornly to his ruse of being completely unaffected by Mina, gruffly dismissing every attempt she makes to call him out, until she finally snaps. Frustrated, she blurts out the truth. She saw him in the woods. She heard him moaning. And it was her name on his lips.
What follows is a reckless game of chicken, neither of them willing to back down.
Mina dares him to prove just how unaffected he is.
Kieran, determined to win, leans in and kisses her, pretends it means nothing, even with the hard, contradictory evidence straining against his pants.
And when that isn’t enough, when she challenges him further, he takes it to the next level, claiming he could have his nose pressed right up to the source of her desire, and it would still do nothing to him.
So, she dares him to try. And to her shock, he accepts.
Kieran drops to his knees, his face inches away from temptation, his confidence unwavering until his wolf scents her. The last shred of restraint snaps, and the need to taste her, claim her, consume her takes over. And this time, he doesn’t fight it.
My original version petered out at this point, with a cringe-worthy: He licked her juices, and the taste was indescribable.
.. He grew harder at her moan, and it was the best feeling when she came on his lips.
And when he rose, it took every fiber of his being to glare down at her and say, “Nothing.”
Yeah... I was definitely going to need all the help Devlin had to offer for that one.
A shiver ran through me at the thought that tonight he might actually use his tongue on me—provided he didn’t come up with some mad idea about using teaching aids again.
But then, just as quickly, another thought hit me like a punch to the gut.
What if he finds someone else to date?
My stomach hollowed, the excitement from moments ago dampening. I’d made him a promise. And if I held up my end of the bargain, it wouldn’t be fair to expect him to keep helping me with the sex scenes—not if he was trying to build something real with someone else.
You could always ask him to date you.
I waited for the inevitable torrent of inner voices to sound their concerns, but to my surprise, there was no opposition whatsoever.
Had I finally let go of my obsession with the Samhain summoning? Had I stopped clinging to the idea of saving myself for my mate? I mean, it wasn’t like he’d be expecting me to be a virgin after all this time.
In fact... it might actually be a bit weird to summon him after all these years and explain that I’d been virtuous out of some self-imposed duty.
I was part succubus, after all. And he would be a full-blooded incubus.
What if he didn’t want an untouched, blushing, inexperienced mate?
What if he wanted someone confident, someone skilled—someone who didn’t turn into a rambling mess every time she was flustered?
And Devlin could help me with that.
It wasn’t like I was going to fall in love with him. This would just be a fling. A fleeting romance. A way to write my scenes, prepare myself for my mate, and let Devlin experience dating.
Three birds. One stone.
My heartbeat quickened as I climbed out of bed and hurried over to the full-length mirror, giving myself a once-over.
My pajamas were a cute little set, hugging my curves in all the right places.
They were a little snug on my hips—unsurprising, considering I hadn’t worn them in nine years—but I’d always been proud of the soft curve of my stomach.
And I’d definitely caught Devlin’s eyes lingering on it at breakfast yesterday.
My bedhead, however, was an absolute disaster. It took forever to comb through the knots, but finally, my dark mane flowed smoothly down my back. I even tucked my hair behind my ears instead of my usual habit of letting it curtain my face, a flimsy attempt at hiding from the world.
I reached for my hoodie—the trusty old thing that had been my shield for as long as I could remember—then paused. I was about to ask Devlin if he would consider dating me. If I had my hoodie, I knew I’d shrink into it, use it as a barrier, let it swallow me up the moment I lost my nerve.
Not this time.
After brushing my teeth and giving myself one last check in the bathroom mirror, I took a deep breath and headed downstairs, my heart pounding harder with every step.
The confidence I’d built up about asking Devlin out evaporated instantly when I poked my head into the kitchen.
He sat at the table, his gaze locked on the window, staring out toward the edge of the forest. His chin rested on his palm, his teeth chewing at the nail of his ring finger, his jaw tense, brows furrowed in deep thought.
His leg bounced erratically under the table, his entire body contracted tight with worry.
Something had him on edge.
“Um, Devlin?” I asked hesitantly.
His eyes snapped to mine immediately, widening as they scanned me from head to toe—before his features settled back into anxious distress.
Suddenly, I felt ridiculous for coming downstairs in such a skimpy pajama set. I resisted the urge to bolt back to my room, grab my trusty hoodie, and wrap myself in its safety.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingered for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.
Devlin chewed nervously on his bottom lip, then gestured at the seat across from him.
I sat down, my pulse ticking faster, and as I moved, a loose strand of hair slipped from behind my ear, falling over my face. Devlin’s hand twitched forward, reaching as if to tuck it back into place, but then he caught himself and pulled away, his fingers curling into a fist on the table instead.
“You’re worrying me, Devlin,” I said quietly.
That seemed to snap him out of whatever the hell was wrong with him.
His features softened, the tautness in his shoulders loosening just slightly. “Sorry, Jen. I didn’t mean to.”
My brows furrowed. “What’s happened?”
His lips pressed together, his jaw ticking as if he were debating something internally. Finally, he let out a slow breath and said, “Last night, I went for a stroll through the forest.”
“Okay...” I said slowly, having no idea where this was going.
“And... when I got back...” His voice faltered. A moment later, his hands disappeared beneath the table, and when they resurfaced, they held a tattered paper folder. Without a word, he set it in front of me, sliding it across the smooth wood with careful deliberation.
My stomach turned to stone.
I pushed it back toward the center of the table, away from me.
Devlin’s eyes flicked between me and the file.
“Did you read it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my gaze fixed on my fingers as they twisted together in my lap, bracing myself for his answer.
“No, of course not, Jen,” he said quickly, his voice pleading.
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s just... I don’t know. Why would someone leave the files to your parents’ case at your door? Presumably, you’ve already seen the contents?”
I swallowed hard and nodded. My arrest had been a blur—the evidence shown to me only briefly, more of a formality, given that I had admitted to what I’d done.
I remembered seeing the reports and only a few of the crime scene photos before I’d had to look away, unable to stomach the sight of my parents’ bodies.
Devlin’s voice cut through the haze. “So, what’s the point of sending them to you anonymously?”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “To torment me?” I murmured. “To remind me that I may have served my time—but they’ll never forget?”
Devlin’s lips thinned, his eyes flashing with something dark and dangerous. “There’s a camera on the porch,” he said, his voice tight. “Can you access it? See who came to the door?”
I shook my head. “We used to be able to, but BooDini was tricked into letting some burglars in one summer. When the footage showed it helping them steal our stuff, it sulked and got rid of the hard drive.” Devlin’s lips parted, clearly about to say something, but I cut him off before he could.
“Look, Devlin, it doesn’t matter. I expected some backlash from the community.
” I inhaled sharply. “Can you just... put it away somewhere? "
He hesitated, the strain in his jaw telling me exactly how much he didn’t want to let this go.
But finally, with a reluctant exhale, he rose from his seat, crossed the kitchen, and shoved the file into one of the already cluttered drawers.
Returning to his seat, he let out a frustrated breath, his fingers drumming against the table before he muttered, “I just don’t like the idea of a stranger showing up at the house. ”
I arched a mock-accusatory brow. “Oh, so it’s not okay for a stranger to drop off something in the dead of night, but it is perfectly fine for one to break in, jerk off in the bath, and then offer the owner a bargain to help her write the sex scenes of her book?”
My comment was meant to lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect. Devlin stiffened, his shoulders going rigid, a flush of red creeping up his neck. “About that...” He swallowed hard. “I owe you an apology.”
“Huh?” was all I managed.
His bourbon eyes flicked down, like he couldn’t bear to meet my gaze. “I crossed a boundary last night. And I’m sorry. I absolutely understand if you want me to leave.”
“Devlin, what the hell are you talking about?”
Table of Contents
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- Page 23 (Reading here)
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