Page 2 of The Filled Vessel (Cambric Creek After Darkverse #4)

Chapter three

Corviss

T he apartment was empty, save for the girl.

There was an annoying, repetitive drip coming from the kitchen, one that would need to be fixed if he was going to be forced here each night, but the rooms were dark. Half-opened curtains cast long shadows across the floor, easy to slip within. Perfect . He’d flown in through one of the shadows, dropping with a muffled thump as he changed, rising upright, navigating his way down the short hallway until he reached the bedroom.

The girl was a lump. A rounded mound beneath the bed clothes. He didn’t know why he’d been half-expecting her to be stretched across the bed naked and writhing, or else, already secured to the bedposts, spread eagle, his for the taking. Instead, she was a lump beneath her covers. She didn’t appear to be any more alluring or lascivious than any other human he visited in the course of his main work; no different than the countless other lumps of flesh upon which he’d squatted.

Corviss sighed in vague disappointment. He wasn’t sure what he was meant to do, and the very notion of uncertainty was enough to ruffle his feathers.

Ambiguity was not something with which he was comfortable or familiar—his job was one of a straightforward nature, and he did it well. Sit on the humans, peck into their unconscious minds, and introduce a ribbon of fear. His presence alone was sometimes enough to do the trick. He fed on their fright, gobbled up their unuttered trauma, gorged himself on their panic.

This was altogether different.

He disliked being uncertain , a distasteful emotion if there ever was one. He didn’t particularly like being in the position he found himself trapped within in the first place, didn’t care for what was now expected of him, and dearly wished he’d simply skipped out on the responsibility. This is what you get for making deals with devils .

“It’s the easiest gig in the world. By the time you’re on the third or fourth visit, these humans are begging for it. You show up, blow a load, and clock out. By the end of the month, you’ll be begging me to make the switch full-time.”

The incubus’s words were earnest and confident, his voice oily and cocksure. If the bastard was angling for a crossroads gig, Corviss thought, rolling his eyes, he’d not be surprised to hear it. Besides—he already knew he had the easiest gig in the world—squat on their chests, render them immobile, and let them sink into an inner world of fear. That was it.

He’d done his taxes last year on the job, squatting on the chest of a CPA, picking through the man’s consciousness for hidden loopholes. Just a few months ago, he’d secondhand watched several seasons of a popular true crime drama through the mind of the human who had binged the show earlier that day, leaving him engrossed in the storyline, jotting down a note in his calendar to revisit the woman once a few more seasons were released.

What the demon described sounded strenuous, and the thought of having to actually work was hardly appealing. He was, alas, in no position to decline the offer.

“Enjoy the sulfur springs,” was all he’d said tonelessly to the smug incubus, vowing to himself that he’d never be persuaded into socializing off the clock ever again. He had come up short in a gamble, and now he was forced to pay back the debt. Once this is done, you’re never drinking again.

Sighing heavily once more, he unzipped his long, black coat, shaking out his wings. The girl stirred when he pulled back the blankets, a small prey-animal whimper coming from her throat as he pushed up the long t-shirt she wore before climbing onto the bed. She was bare beneath, which at least made things a touch easier, he supposed.

He had no idea what to do, where to start, how to go about any of this!

. . . And so he fell back on familiarity, taking up his customary position on her chest, instead of opening the girl’s legs. She was soft and warm, and he wiggled himself against her as if she were a nest, deciding there was no one around to witness the undignified movement. Her brow furrowed as he made himself comfortable, her subconscious aware of his presence, struggling to push him off. Struggling was, of course, futile.

Corviss resented being referred to as a demon, as humans so often did. They had no idea the sophistication and skill that went into achieving a seamless paralysis, and no low-bred demons he knew had ever aspired to learn, not to his knowledge.

Most of the humans he visited had no idea just for how long he perched upon them, rendering them frozen. It wasn’t until their conscious minds swam up through the dreamsea, struggling to wake, that they became aware of anything at all. By then, he’d already fed on the fear they seeped, fear from the nightmares he planted, sating himself until they struggled, and when they began to push back, he was usually ready to move on.

His job wouldn’t be as simple with this girl.

He was expected to leave behind a calling card—one expelled from his cock, directly into her womb, if possible. Not that it would make any difference, he snorted, not for him. Demons and humans had been molded from the same inferior clay, but his seed would never take hold in such an inferior vessel. Unless this lump of human was actually a harpy, capable of laying a true egg, there would be no threat of visitation obligations every weekend and presents on Solstice morning for him. Thank the stars for that .

If the incubus had an insemination quota to keep, the dumb fuck had done a poor job of settling his debt, but that wasn’t Corviss’s problem.

He waited until the girl’s breathing evened out once more, looking around the room, wondering if there was something there with which he could amuse himself. The only thing you're meant to use for amusement is the human beneath you, you fool. He wrinkled his nose at his own inner voice, his wings rustling. He was right, he was forced to admit. He would need to get started eventually. First though, he wanted to peer into her mind, as old habits were impossible to break.

The girl's eyebrows had drawn together, her heart rate picking up slightly, and he pressed a long finger to her forehead, shadows unraveling and rooting into her brain. Corviss tipped, delving into her inner world to see her nightmare as it began.

A candle. A fat candle in the middle of a glyph-strewn square of fabric. He watched the girl standing before it, her lips moving as she read. This must have been the ritual she performed, the one that called the absent incubus up, the reason he was there at all. He watched from his perch in the corner of the room as the candle flame flickered, igniting the cloth upon which it sat. The cheap, pressed-wood table went up in a heartbeat. Her mouth had dropped open, her face frozen in a mask of panic, and in her eyes he saw the flickering flames of her apartment, overtaken in a matter of moments. Beneath him, the girl flinched, and he sucked up her fear.

There was something else there, though, something even better. Flames leapt around them, but in her eyes he could see the reflection of the deeper nightmare, beyond this superficial fear. Corviss pushed his way into the dream girl's eyes, dropping through them as easily as jumping into a swimming pool.

The surface of her dreamsea was desolate and black, rolling waves as far as the eye could see beneath an inky, starless sky. He disliked the isolated emptiness, wondering what was wrong with the girl to have such a landscape within her, before diving below the surface to the waiting nightmare.

A shop, lined in shelves, littered with indistinct items. The girl stood in the center of one of the aisles, shrunken and small, standing before the tall, leering shape of a dark-haired man.

The man in her dream gave Corviss pause. Her somnolent mind painted him with overdrawn features and a comically villainous, cruel air—his wide mouth stretching in a sneer, canines pointed and gleaming . . . but around him was an air of menace and magic, and Corviss could tell even through the dreamweb that her subconscious depiction of him was not far off from reality. Perhaps she had made a deal with a devil of her own . He watched as the strange man captured the girl like a bug, placing her screaming beneath a dome of glass, another curiosity for his shelf.

Beneath him, she trembled, exhaling another whimper, her arms twitching. He wanted to stay like this, delve deeper, taste the hidden recesses of her mind . . . But you need to get on with it.

He sighed. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable. Shifting in his crouch, the girl jolted beneath him. One of the talons on his bird-like feet had nicked her skin, and the blood welled in a thin, ruby streak, proof that he had been there. He did not leave closets ajar and the spaces under beds disturbed like some amateur. Instead, the lucky few were left evidence of his existence with the odd cut or bruise, the weight of him sitting upon their chest enough of a remembrance to make them afraid to fall asleep, usually.

He wondered if this girl would be afraid, once he was finished with her. Her skin was soft and supple, her curves full and round. She had done nothing to cover her nakedness beyond donning the thigh-skimming T-shirt, and she shivered when his fingertips ran over her collarbone and down the valley between her heavy breasts. Her nipples were a warm, dark brown, quickly tightening to buds as he pinched them, rolling them between his knuckles. Beneath him, her breath caught, coming out in short little pants as he pulled and twisted, kneading the globes of flesh until another one of those little whimpers issued from her throat. She was soft, so incredibly soft, the heavy weight of her breasts jiggling beneath his palms in a way that was nearly hypnotic.

When his hands continued their journey down her body, he was hampered by his own position atop her. Shifting slightly, glaring when she jostled him again, his talons dug in to steady himself as he moved, picking up the exploration of her skin on the other side of where he rested. She was luscious. The soft swell of her stomach gave cushion to his perch, her full hips gave way to even fuller thighs, and the dark thatch of neatly trimmed hair between them beckoned.

Behind him, her head jerked and her chest heaved, whatever nightmare that now gripped her reaching its zenith. He knew what would come next, and realized he was running out of time.

The first press of his fingers between her legs was hot and silky, just as soft and warm as she had been when he first seated himself atop her. He delved into her, sliding first one digit and then two through her hot flesh, her pulse easily felt as it raced wildly. When he curled a finger into her body, she stiffened, and for a brief moment he thought she was entering the final stage of his presence. But when her legs opened a touch further, a shiver moving through her as she did so, he realized it was an involuntary response.

Back and forth his wrist moved, fascinated by the way her chest heaved and her body jerked, and soon his fingers were coated in a viscous slickness, one that made it even easier to stroke her. His thumb moved over a little button of flesh that made her jump every time he hit it just so, and so he continued doing exactly that, amused by the response and the way she shook beneath him. He wasn't sure if she was still embroiled in her nightmare or if her subconscious mind had moved on, and he didn't care enough to remove his fingers from her body to dip back into her head to find out. Instead, he continued doing exactly as he was until the girl had some sort of fit, her legs going straight, and her muscles tightening around the intrusion of his fingers.

It was nearly a shock to find his cock had grown hard.

He may have possessed the lower haunches and great wings of his namesake, but he had the torso of a man, the cock of one as well, he was relatively certain, at least. The fat sac that swung behind it felt heavy and hot, ready to be emptied. The incubus’s words came back to him, and Corviss grinned. Show up, blow a load, and clock out . It really was that simple, he thought with a chuckle. But now he truly was running out of time.

There was something wildly exciting about touching her as she slept. He understood why the demons enjoyed their job as much as they did, as he pulled her legs apart, the lips of her sex opening like a flower for him. Her breath was a soft pant, her body spread out before him like a buffet, and he could not resist the temptation to slide in and sample the pie.

He hissed at the first press of his cock tip to her molten heat. He had never mated a human before, it wasn't in his job description and he had previously found the idea distasteful. He might find it distasteful again once this month was through, but right now he didn't have a choice in the matter—he had debts to repay, didn't fancy the idea of crossing a demon, and his cock was hard enough at the moment that he didn't quite care whom he buried it in.

He pushed forward, gasping with every inch that disappeared, devoured by her pussy, not stopping until his sac was flush to the curve of her generous ass. She was tight and hot, squeezing him like a vice, and he could not help groaning at the sensation. Pulling back slowly, he hilted himself on his first thrust, suddenly not understanding why he’d never mated a human before. His cock was tightly wrapped in her molten heat as he withdrew to the tip, much hotter than anything he’d experienced before, and as he thrust forward again with a gurgle of pleasure, Corviss decided it didn’t matter if it was in his job description or not. If they were all this hot, if they would all squeeze his cock this way, he’d be fucking every human he visited going forward.

The girl made another small whimper, and he considered for the first time that he could do his job and this job, simultaneously. Clocking in on both!

He wondered what it would be like, being in her mind, in her dreams, and in her body, enveloping him like a warm glove, the temptation to double dip too great to pass up. The first press was a ripple, the girl sighing as he moved within her somnolent mind, simultaneously opening her legs wide to give him better access to bury his cock deeper into her.

Dipping back into her dreamsea only heightened his pleasure in the waking world, he quickly discovered—they were weightless, suspended in waters that were now gold-lit, bodies entwining. Building on the water’s hue, he wove a golden thread of pleasant dreams into her mind, skating his hands down her body as it took root, gratified when she thrust herself upwards against him enthusiastically in response. He groaned again. This felt incredible. The time for restraint was over, he decided, gripping her hips tightly as he began fucking her in earnest.

She could feel him thrusting into her in her shallow sleep, and rather than fight it, her thighs tightened around him, the limbs that were stiff with paralysis in the waking world able to wrap around him in her mind. Corviss drew back slowly, dragging his cock against her inner walls before thrusting forward again, the sucking heat of her pussy making his eyes roll back.

The girl moaned full-throated against his feathered shoulder, although the sound was barely a choked gurgle in the waking reality. The demons and their rough ways could hang, he decided, for he much preferred this softer-colored dreamsea, where her little gasps of pleasure were like a tiny song as his hips rolled into her. He was no one to her here, and she was with a fantasy lover, perhaps someone she loved in her upright life, but he was happy to play the part.

“Don’t stop,” she keened, her feet hooking around him, encouraging him to thrust deeper. “You know just how I like it. Give me your cock nice and deep.”

He was helpless to obey. Tomorrow he would not waste so much time, not when he could be doing this .

His hips snapped against her, chasing release, his cock suddenly feeling as if it needed to explode. It was base and carnal and altogether human , but it could not be helped. He had never before felt the urge to come as hard as he did just then, his balls tight and overfull, each thrust against her bringing him closer to the edge of the precipice upon which he stood.

He wouldn't be here if she'd not summoned him, Corviss reminded himself as he rose on his avian feet, using his entire lower body to thrust, getting into her as deeply as he could. She'd meant to summon something else, of course, but that couldn't be helped. She had wanted one of them to come to her, come in her; she would never have purchased that candle, wouldn't have lit it and said the incantation that had called the incubus, wouldn't have gone through the steps of such a ritual if she hadn't wanted to be fucked by a demon.

He felt the moment the girl stiffened beneath him. Rigor overtook her limbs, her spine straightening, the muscle in her jaw jumping. This was how it always went, once they began the cycle out of their dreams, ending their time with him. She had been immobile since he first sat upon her, but now her conscious mind knew it, fighting its way back to the world of wakefulness. He was no demon, but at the moment, he had no complaints. When his cock at last erupted, he surged forward with a grunt, his hips jerking against her thighs. The girl’s hands had twisted like claws in her sheets, her jaw working, and her eyes squeezed tightly shut, unable to do anything other than allow him to fill her.

When he pulled off of her last, Corviss staggered backward, limp cock swinging wetly between his feathered thighs. She was trembling, and he knew it would only be seconds before her mind broke through the fog, forcing herself awake, and he needed to be gone.

Tomorrow, he thought to himself. Tomorrow he’d not waste so much time. He would delve into her mind and determine what frightened her the most as he slid his cock inside of her, warm and tight and wet. This wasn't such a bad deal after all, he thought, rustling his feathers with a grin. Making deals with devils was unwise, but sometimes, the debt worked in his favor. Tomorrow we enjoy ourselves .

He bowed to the girl’s frozen form with that thought, exploding in a burst of black feathers, taking wing into the shadows and leaving the waking world behind.