Simple Succubus Tattoo 소설 & 이야기

Nick stated and then looked at me, "She wanted me to kill you and the werewolves, indefinitely." "Yes, apparently, the blood moon is a significant sign in their world and would make them even more powerful, even than the witches." I nodded, "So, if she had her way, it would practically be the end of the world?" I asked, Nick and Jackson exchanged a glance, "More like Hell being released on Earth." Jackson said, "A succubi's main power is seduction, but they also have kisses that can either put you to sleep or worse."

“Yeah, he tried to tell me he was eighteen. I figured he was lying, but I needed the experience, so I put him under the needle.” “I like that tattoo,” Rebekah said. It looked like a crack in the earth that led to hell. The fingers of a demonic hand protruded from the fiery interior, clinging to the edge of the fissure, as if trying to escape. She sucked a breath through her teeth as the needle passed over bone for the first time. “Ow.” Another surge of adrenaline coursed through her body. Butch paused to let her catch her breath. “Okay to continue?” he asked.

Then, within her foam cocoon, the succubus began to feed in earnest, sucking every last drop of life from Bentley's cock as his body shuddered with one last, never-ending orgasm. The full-bodied figure of a beautiful blonde girl, still covered in little patches of soapy lather, stood up in the bath and pulled out the plug. The water drained away until it revealed a ghastly reminder of her recent passion. At the bottom of the bathtub, swaying in the last dregs of draining bathwater, was the empty skin of Robert Bentley. The succubus looked at it thoughtfully before carefully rolling it up and lifting it out of the tub. Her mistress might be able to find a use for it, she thought.

But I didn’t. I moved closer as I leaned slightly to peek through the narrow opening. What I saw… Jesus Christ. A lithe woman who could pass for a Succubus was wrapped around him, his hands was fisted in her hair, and his dick was buried deep in her throat. Her back hit the wall and he pinned her there effortlessly, driving his cock into her like a demon possessed. His body moved against hers with a brutal kind of desperation, and she didn’t resist. The light above them flickered and I saw the full expanse of his back, the tattoos inked over muscle and scars. The way his fingers dug into her hair. The sound he made, low and guttural, like a man in pain yet experiencing immeasurable pleasure.

The Succubus came wildly and gushed her liquid on the face of the bound helpless man. Emma was amazed by how Terra climaxed. The golden fractured star on her chest glowed brightly as her pussy nectar dripped thickly over the man’s buried face. The Succubus released the man who was coughing out liquid which Emma deduced to be Terra’s pussy juice. The man’s face was wet and dripping. He was on his back trying to catch his breath but the Succubus was not even done yet. With her strong and flexible tail still around the man’s neck, Terra pulled up onto his wobbly feet and pinned him up against the wall with his feet dangling inches from the floor.

Uncle Lenard answered instead, “You should’ve seen her markings. They looked like they were moving as she held onto her hand. It was almost like a succubus.” “A succubus?” My brow perked up in question, “What is a succubus?” He shrugged, “I read it on one of my books. It’s like a spawn of the sort, something that sucks the vitality of a mortal. Only, I don’t think she was sucking out your vitality dear nephew. I think she was taking away your pain and giving it to herself.” I gasped, I took a step back, “That makes no sense. She—

“I am sorry, Lord Sotirios. You must, however, be able to understand why I wouldn’t want to become like the man who killed my family.” “I do understand,” said Salem. “And if you truly wish to stay mortal, I will respect your decision. But just so we understand each other, I would not have you become a vampire like Mr. Cillian. I would have you become a succubus. I would have you become lilitu, like me.” He stepped closer, until we were inches apart. “If you become a succubus, Mr. Cillian will have no quarrel with you. You’ll be safe. Indeed, you’ll thrive. You’ll be able to enter dreams, as I entered yours. You’ll grow wings, and possess eternal youth . . . even eternal beauty. Think of it,

Naomi fretted. "That won't happen. She wouldn't dare," Stuart answered confidently. He insisted succubi could only bind to one master for life. "Louisa is bound to me. She'll obey me." In the steam-blurred kitchen, a bitter smile tugged at my lips. Stuart's misconception ran deep. Nobody had ever told me a succubus could only ever have one master. If you end up with a bad one, of course you find another. I came out carrying the bowl just as Stuart was ranting about succubi being the lowest of creatures—dependent on a master's charity for love, with no path but death if they left him.

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” I look at the tattoo of a skull surrounded by black flames. My whole right arm is decorated with tattoos from shoulder to wrist. My skin prickles with every caress of her fingers, but I don’t stop her from touching me. The tattoo sleeve has several tribal symbols, and there are a seal trident and a frogman tattoo on my shoulder. Each tattoo represents something in my life. The skull represents my status as an Assassin, and the cross is a play on my name. Her finger moves down the line of my intricate cross, then to the inside of my rib cage, where I have an inscription. Qui velit, ut vivat in aeternum.