Page 4 of Oh No! There’s an Incubus in my Hot Spring (Getting Cozy with Demons #1)

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Oh No! There’s an Incubus in My Hot Spring

I whirl toward the voice, splashing water over the balcony. Some of it connects with…something. Some presence. The water slides down a face and chest made visible only by the moving water.

I push my hands out and splash more water in that direction, highlighting the figure again. It has a very masculine jaw, strong figure, broad shoulders, and horns. Of course it has horns. This has got to be some kind of prank. Maybe Irene set Leonard on a quest to scare the new girl.

“Who are you?” I ask stupidly as I cover myself with my arms.

“I think the more important question is, what can I do for you?” the deep, smoky voice replies.

“You’re trespassing,” I say. “Get out before I call the police.”

The apparition hums in amusement. “I love a witch with spirit.”

“Seriously, leave,” I declare, standing my ground despite my little lizard brain screaming at me to run as he moves closer.

Mist swirls off the water and the entity before me materializes as if fueled by the spring itself. Dark gray skin with twisting teal tattoos ripples into existence over hard abs and taut pecs. Long silver hair frames his masculine jaw, and white fangs glint behind his sultry smirk. His eyes glow like magical chips of ice as he assesses me. Curved horns jut from the top of his head, encircled by an unearthly halo of blue and white transparent mist. Wings snap out from behind his back, and a spade tail whips out of the water.

I whirl toward the edge of the pool and wade as fast as I can. The demon surges behind me, capturing me around the neck and waist. I suck down a deep gasp to scream, but he covers my mouth with a claw-tipped hand. “Don’t do that, lovely. You’ll disrupt the peace.”

I shout and bite the meat of his palm, scratching his arms and flailing for my life, but of course this monstrous creature isn’t hurt by my blunt little nails and teeth. He pulls me against his chest and shushes me.

“Calm, now. I would never hurt my witch,” he purrs against my temple and his voice stirs something low in my belly.

He isn’t hurting me, this is true. But, oh my fucking god, demons are real. His tail wraps around my leg, slithering like a snake from my thigh to my knee. I go still, panting through my nose and gripping each of his muscular wrists tightly.

“That’s a good witch,” he says. His hand slides off my mouth, and the drag of his skin sends a shiver down my spine. He rests his palm on my throat, his nails drawing little designs on the side of my neck. If I scream, he could rip out my jugular in a second.

I swallow hard. “What do you want?”

He groans, a seductive noise unlike anything I’ve ever heard. “I want your pleasure.”

Oh, gods, he’s the rapey kind of demon.

I’d rather die.

“Your heart is thundering for all the wrong reasons, lovely,” he says, his lips brushing the tip of my ear. “You don’t need to fear me.”

I take a shaky breath. “You haven’t given me a reason not to. You just told me you’re going to take my pleasure.”

“No, never take. Only what you’ll give.” His hand slides over my belly.

My nipples harden against the cool evening breeze. “I don’t really feel like giving.”

“I don’t need much. Just enough to stay corporeal.”

“What do you mean?”

“My magic is fueled by your pleasure, and magic supports my physical form on this plane, among other things.”

“So, you’re…an incubus?” I ask, shivering.

“You can call me whatever you like. What’s your name?”

My brain whirls as I remember myths and things about demons, like if they have your name they can use their magic against you. Wait, no, that’s Fae.

“There’s no danger,” the incubus croons as he strokes down my throat to my collar bones. “Even if I had enough magic to stimulate you, I wouldn’t act against my witch’s desires. All I need is just a little taste of your pleasure to bond to your energy so I can feed off you regularly.”

Bond and feed and regularly all bounce around in my skull. “I’m not selling my soul to a demon,” I snap, despite the sharp claws running along my neck and stomach.

He chuckles. “That fire . I could subsist on it alone. You won’t be selling me your soul. We’ll create a bond. It’s completely different.”

“Read my lips,” I say, turning my head to look at him. Oh, that was a mistake. He’s hauntingly beautiful.

I swallow that thought and push forward. “En. Oh. No.”

He licks the tip of his fang with a brilliantly red tongue. “If you want me haunting the halls like a ghost, then refuse me.”

“Why don’t you just…go away?” I ask, frustrated.

His hand skates along my jaw and he grips my chin. “I can’t.”

My front is so cold, but the heat of him against my back keeps me from shivering. “Why not?”

His thumb traces my bottom lip and his glowing eyes follow the movement. “It’s a terribly long story, but this is a place of power, and I am as intertwined with it in spirit as the water is with the stone.”

“How do I untwine you?”

He smiles, his gaze darting up to mine. “You would free me?”

“Immediately, yes. Just tell me how,” I say.

“You’re not powerful enough. We would have to awaken your magical capabilities first, and then grow them significantly.”

“I’m not looking to become magical,” I lie. It would be badass to have magic. I’d always dreamed one day I’d get my Hogwarts letter, but I’m guessing his magic comes with a steep price. Like my soul.

“It’s the only way if you want me free to leave,” he says.

How can I run a business with an incubus infesting my hot spring? It’s a hurdle I don’t know how to overcome. Hire an exorcist? Could I even find a real one nearby? I thought it was all fake up until ten minutes ago anyway.

“Well?” he asks, his nails raking across my stomach. Pulses of toe-curling tingles fire through my body at his touch, but I do my best not to show it. I don’t want him knowing he’s affecting me.

I sigh. “Fine. How do I awaken my magic?”

His fingers make figure-eight patterns over my belly button. “I will awaken it by giving you some of my magic. The more you feed me, the more magic I can give you, and we’ll grow your own capacity over time.

“There will be some activity that feeds your magic most of all, and we’ll need to discover what that is. In time, you won’t need my magic anymore, and you’ll be able to perform the ritual that will release me from this place.”

“Okay, so give me some of your magic.”

His stiffening cock flexes against my backside. “You will bond with me, then?”

“What? No, you said you’d give me you magic.”

“To do that, we must be bonded.”

I scowl at him. “You tried to trick me.”

He shrugs. “Only a little.”

I grit my teeth and steel myself for getting my guts ripped out. “It’s not happening. Now, let me go.”

Slowly, his hands slide off my body. I rush to the edge and whirl back to look at him. He’s already fading, his body growing transparent.

“You’d let a dying man starve?” he asks, his face pained and earnest.

“You’re not a man,” I say, covering my chest. “You’re a demon.”

“And yet I didn’t hurt you, or take from you,” he says.

I bite my tongue, watching as he dematerializes into the mist.

“I’ll be watching you,” he whispers as his body fades into the black of night.

Would I prefer to see the pleasure-seeking demon, or not see him? If he’s truly stuck here, I think I’d want to know where he is at all times.

“Fine! Stop going all incorporeal. I’ll…feed you.”

He rematerializes directly in front of me, and I gasp.

“You’ll bond with me?”

“No, but I’ll give you what you need, only because I want to be able to see you. No creeping around.”

“You don’t want to free me, then? You want me to stay?” he asks, tucking a wet strand of hair behind my ear with his talon.

I shy away from the motion. “No, but I’m not going to bond with you. I’ll figure something else out. An exorcist, or whatever.”

He laughs. “If you say so, witch. Now…” His eyes sparkle like living gems and he captures me in his stare. “What would you like me to do for you?”

Oh, gods, this is so wrong.

“Ah-ah,” he chastises, running his finger over my lip. “No shame.”

“Can you read my mind?” I ask.

“No, but I can feel your emotions. They’re as plain to me as the look in your eyes and the way your body responds to my touch.”

Fuck, he did notice.

“Pleasure does not always come from sexual stimulation,” he says. “And even if you did want an orgasm, you’re too tense to accept one from me.”

Isn’t that the truth. Why didn’t Jason ever understand that?

“Then, what do you suggest?”

He takes a step forward, the water parting around his hips and making little whirlpools at his sides. “Allow me to massage your back.”

“Just a massage?” I ask, tightening my arms over my chest.

“That’s all, unless you want more,” he says, his voice a seductive promise that I will indeed want more.

“Okay.” I turn away from him and look at the glass door into the building.

I hear him move behind me and see his reflection through the mist.

“I’m going to touch you,” he says, just before his warm hands fall on my shoulders. I watch as his nails shrink, receding into his fingers, until they’re blunt like mine.

“Sit back in the water more. It will help,” he says, tugging on me gently.

He guides us to the edge of the pool and sits on the bench, then pulls me down onto his lap. He keeps a respectable distance between his groin and mine, balancing me on his knees. He’s so much bigger than me, I almost feel like a child.

His thumbs press into my upper back and he circles my tight muscles, enticing me to unfurl before him. Each stroke he goes a little harder, until I’m struggling to stay quiet, struggling to stay upright instead of leaning into him.

He works his way up to my neck and I drop my head forward with a groan.

“That’s a good witch,” he murmurs.

“Sylvia.”

“What’s that, lovely?”

“My name,” I say, hoping I didn’t just make a huge mistake.

“It’s a beautiful name. Sylvanus, nymph of the woods…you’re right at home here,” he says, digging his fingers into the tight knots along my upper back.

This demon has magical fingers.

“What’s your name?” I ask, leaning back deeper into the water to let the heat and the massage work together.

“I’ve been called many things throughout the ages.”

“But do you have a given name, from your parents? Or, uh, creator?” I ask.

Are demons born?

“My creator did name me, but it can’t be replicated by a human mouth.”

“I see.”

My upper back hits his chest and I jerk forward. “Sorry.”

The massage is ongoing despite my hasty movements. “You may touch me all you like, Sylvia.”

“What name do you like best? I can’t just call you Demon, or Incubus, or Hey You all the time.”

“I’ve been called Asmodeus, Jarilo, Hedylogos, Kama, and many more, but I don’t have an affinity for these words. If you want to call me Heyu, I would have great affinity for this name.”

I can’t help but laugh. “So what you’re saying is, you want me to name you?”

“If it would please my witch.”

“I want to go on the record that I have a duck named Charlie, and therefore you can’t expect much of me in the naming department,” I say.

He chuckles and the vibration moves through my chest like a wave, all the way down to my core. “Imagine a name you would like to cry out at the height of your pleasure.”

His words coil up around my insides and squeeze, but not in a good way.

“There was a name I used to want to scream, but he’s out of my life forever now, and there’s no other name…” What the hell am I doing? Getting cozy with a literal demon who wants to bond my soul. My self-preservation instincts must’ve taken a hiatus.

I lurch out of his grasp.

“I didn’t intend to hurt you,” he says, his voice soft.

“You didn’t. I have to go,” I say, wading toward my clothes.

“Go where?” he asks, appearing next to my lamp in a sparkle of blue mist.

“You’ve obviously gotten enough magic, so I have to go.”

“You said that. Where?”

“I don’t have to tell you where I’m going.” I step out of the water and hastily pull on my clothes.

He stands and my gaze falls to his hips and his sizable, flaccid cock. Jesus, who would even want something that big in them?

Me.

I shake my head. “I have to go.”

“I won’t detain you,” he says, stepping aside.

My clothes are sticky against my skin as I reach for the door. I look at him over my shoulder. “Thanks for the massage.”

He sketches a shallow bow. “Your pleasure is my feast.”

This is insane.

This is insane!

I charge through the door and run for the stairs—which are narrow, dark, stone, and lacking a handrail. I remember this all too late as my foot slips on the third step. My ass screams as I slam down against the floor and tumble forward like that boulder from Indiana Jones. I hit the wall and my hearing goes fuzzy, my shout of pain sounding distant.

I can’t believe I bought a demon-haunted hot spring and then died tripping down the stairs instead of getting mauled to death. What a pathetic way to go…