Succubus Shadows Chapter 12

It occurred to me at somewhat manoeuvre that I wished the Oneroi would only send me false dreams. They hurt no question besides t here(predicate) was a very, very small comfort afterward in hunch everywhereing they hadnt really happened. Yet, my next few dreams were real matchlesss, and I was forced to halt re lively the past.One memory brought me gage to fifteenth century Florence. At freshman, I entangle up a small blossoming of joy at repeating this. The Italian metempsychosis had been a beautiful quashg, and Id been in awe watching the ingenuity of humans reawaken after the remainder few depressing centuries. Things were made that a good deal(prenominal) to a greater extent interesting because the Church was everto a greater extent pushing back against this artistic flourishing. That kind of conflict was what my kind thrived on.Anformer(a) succubus and I had shargond a house, living luxuriously off of a textile business we ostensibly managed while our merchant uncle (an incubus who was never around) traveled. It was a groovy setup, and I going by the name of Bianca was the favorite child of our local demoness, Tavia, convey to conquest after conquest.It all started to go awry when I hired an eccentric and extremely freehanded painter named Niccol? to create a fresco for our home. He was flamboyant, funny, and intelligent and had been attracted to me from the first day. nary(prenominal)etheless, a sense of correctitude and professional boundaries made him keep his distance. This was something I intended to change, and I frequently stayed with him while he worked on the wall, experienceing it would only be a division of term before he gave in to my ch girdles.Ovid didnt cut anything surface-nigh(predicate) fuck, I told him one day. I was lounging on a sofa, caught up in one of the literary discussions we so often stumbled into. His ability to engage in these talks added to his allure. He looking ated up at me with fling in credulity, pausing in his painting. nohing about love? Woman, bite your clapper Hes the authority He wrote books on it. Books that atomic number 18 allay read and used today.I sat up from my undignified repose. They arent relevant. They were written for a contrary era. He devotes pages to telling manpower where to meet women. however those places arent around anymore. Women dont go to races or fights. We cant raze arse about in public areas anymore. This came out with more bitterness than I intended. The artistic culture of this time was wonderful, unless it had come with a restriction of female constituents that differed from those Id conjuren used to in other places and eras.Perhaps, Niccol? agreed. But the principles are beneaths similarlyd the same. As are the techniques.Techniques? I repressed a snort. Honestly, what could a mere soul hit the sack about seduction techniques? Theyre nothing but superficial gestures. Give your ladylove compliments. Talk about thin gs you digest in common bid the weather. Help her fix her dress if it forces mussed. What does any of that have to do with love?What does anything have to do with love anymore? If anything, those comments are particularly applicable now. Marriage is all about business. He tilted his head toward me in a speculative manner that was typical of him. Youve do something with your vibrissa today thats extremely pretty, by the way.I paused in respin, thr take in off by the compliment. Thank you. Anyway. Youre slump marriage is business. But some of them are love matches. Or love can grow. And plenty of hole-and-corner(prenominal) affairs, no matter how sinful, are bagfuld on love.So your problem is that Ovid is ruining what love is still left? His eyes drifted to the window, and he frowned. Does it look standardised itll rain out there?The zeal of this paper seized hold of me, making his abrupt interruptions that much more annoying. Yes what? I mean, no, it wont rain, and, yes, thats what hes doing. Love is already so rare. By approaching it corresponding a game, he cheapens what little there is.Niccol? abandoned his brushes and colors and sat big bucks next to me on the couch. You dont think love is a game?Sometimes all right, most of the time yes, but that doesnt mean we shouldnt I stopped. His fingers had slid to the edge of my dresss neckline. What are you doing?This is crooked. Im straightening it.I stared and then started laughing as the maneuver revealed itself. Youre doing it. Youre following his advice.Is it working?I reached for him. Yes.He pulled back. This wasnt what hed expected. Hed only intended to tease me, proving his point with a game. stave off his eyes, he began to rise.I should get back to work. He was rarely thrownoff, and Id disarmed him.Gripping him with surprising strength, I jerked him back to me and pressed my lips to his. They were soft and sweet, and after a few stunned upshots, he responded, his vernacular pathetic eagerly into my mouth. Then, realizing what he was doing, he drew away one time more.Im sorry. I shouldnt haveI could chequer the longing in his eyes, the desire hed held back since working for me. He essentialed me, but evening a roguish artistic type felt it was wrong to do this with an unmarried, upper-class woman particularly one whod employed him.You started it, I warned in a low voice. You were trying to prove me wrong about Ovid. Looks wish it worked.I put my hand behind his neck, pulling his mouth back down to my own. He still initially resisted, but it didnt eventually. And when his hand began slowly pushing up the folds of my skirts, I knew Id won and that it was time to disengage to the bedroom.Once there, he abandoned any attempts at decorum. He pushed me down onto the bed, the fingers that so deftly multicoloured walls now fumbling to release me from my complicated dress and its layers of rich fabrics.When he had me stripped down to my thin chemise, I took char ge, removing his clothing with a brisk efficiency and delighting in the way his skin felt low my fingertips as my hands explored his clay. Straddling him, I lowered my face and allow my tongue dance circles around his nipples. They harden within my mouth, and I had the satisfaction of hearing him cry out softly when my teeth grazed their supply ship surface.Moving downward, I trailed kisses on his stomach down, down to where he stood hard and swollen. Delicately, I ran my tongue against his erection, from base to tip. He cried out again, that cry turning to a moan when I took him into my mouth. I felt him grow betwixt my lips, becoming harder and larger, as I slowly moved up and down.Without even realizing what he did, I think, he raked his hands through my hair, getting his fingers caught up in the elaborate pinning and frightfully coherent curls. Sucking harder, I increased my pace, exalting in the feel of him filling up my mouth. The early twinges of his zilch began t ellping into me, like glittering streams of color and fire. While not physically pleasurable per se, it sparked me in a similar way, waking up my succubus hunger and igniting my flesh, making me long to touch him and be fey in return.AhBianca, you shouldntI momentarily released him from my mouth, letting my hand continue the work of stroking him closer to closing. You wishing me to stop?Iwell, ah No, but women like you dontyou arent supposed toI laughed, the sound low and dangerous in my throat. You have no idea what kind of woman I am. I want to do this. I want to feel you in my mouthtaste youOh God, he groaned, eyes closed and lips parted.His muscles tensed, ashes bowleg slightly, and I just managed to return him to my mouth in time. He came, and I took it all in as his body continued to spasm. The sustenance energy trickling into me spiked in intensity level, and I nearly had a climax of my own. Wed only just started, and I was already getting more life from him than Id ex pected. This would be a good night. When his shuddering body finally quieted, I shifted myself so that my hips wrapped around his. I ran my tongue over my lips.Oh God, he repeated, breathing labored and eyes wide. His hands traveled up my waist and rested under my breasts, earning my approval. I thoughtI thought only whores did that.I arched an eyebrow. Disappointed?Oh, no. No.Leaning forward, I brushed my lips against his. Then return the favor.He was only too eager, despite his weariness. aft(prenominal) pulling the chemise over my head, he ravaged my body with his mouth, his hands cradling my breasts while his lips sucked and teeth torment my nipples, just as Id done to him. My desire grew, my instincts urging me to take more and more of his life and stoke my bodys burning assume. When he moved his mouth between my legs, parting my thighs, I jerked his head up.You said once that I think like a man, I hissed softly. Then treat me like one. Get on your knees.He blinked in surpri se, taken aback, but I could tell something about the force of the command horny him. An animal glint shone in his eyes as he sank to his knees on the floor, and I stood before him, my underside leaning against the bed.Hands clutching my hips, he pressed his face against the soft patch of hair between my thighs, his tongue slipping between my lips and stroking the burning, swelling tit buried within. At that first touch, my whole body shuddered, and I arched my head back. Fueled by this reaction, he lapped eagerly, letting his tongue dance with a steady rhythm. Twining my hands in his hair, I pushed him closer to me, forcing him to taste more of me, to increase the pressure of his tongue upon me.When the burning, delicious feeling in my lower body could take no more, it burst, like the sun exploding. manage fire and starlight coursing through me, setting every part of me tingling and screaming. Imitating what Id done to him earlier, he didnt rent his mouth until my climax final ly subsided, my body still twitching each time his tongue teasingly darted out and teased that oh-so-sensitive area.When he finally broke away, he looked up with a bemused smile. I dont know what you are. SubservientdominantI dont know how to treat you.I smiled back, my hands caressing the sides of his face. Im anything you want me to be. How do you want to treat me?He thought about it, finally speaking in a hesitant voice. I wantI want to think of you like a goddessand take you like a whore.My smile increased. That about summed up my life, I thought.Im anything you want me to be, I repeated.Rising to his feet, he pushed me roughly against the bed, holding me down. He was ready again, though I could see the effort it took. Most men would have collapsed after that loss of life energy, but he was fighting through his exhaustion in order to take me again. I felt the hard press of him against me, and then he pushed nearly shoved himself into me, slip almost effortlessly now that I w as so wet.Moaning, I shifted myself up so that he could get a better position and take me deeper. His hands clutched my hips as he moved with an almost old aggression, and the sound of our bodies hitting each other modify the room. My body responded to his, loving the way he filled me up and drove into me. My cries grew louder, his thrusts harder.And, oh, the life pouring into me. It was a river now, golden and scorching, renewing my own life and cosmea. on with his energy, he yielded some of his emotions and thoughts, and I could literally feel his lust and affection for me.That life force warred with my own physical pleasure, both consuming me and driving me mad, so that I could barely think or even separate one from the other. The feeling grew and grew within me, burning my core, building up in such intensity that I could barely contain it. I pressed my face against him, smothering my cries.The fire within me swelled, and I made no more attempts to hold off my climax. It burs t within me, exploding, enveloping my whole body in a terrible, wonderful ecstasy. Niccol? showed no mercy, never slowing as that pleasure wracked my body. I worm against it, even as I screamed for more.Doing this might work Niccol? immoral in the eyes of the Church, but at the heart of what mattered, he was a decent man. He was kind to others and had a strong character whose principles were not easily shaken. As a result, he had had a lot of goodness and a lot of life to reach out, life I absorbed without remorse. It spread into me as our bodies moved together, sweeter than any nectar. It burned in my veins, making me feel alive, making me into the goddess he kept murmuring that I was.Unfortunately, the loss of such energy took its toll, and he lay immobile in my bed afterward, breathing shallow and face unbalanced. Naked, I sat up and watched him, running a hand over his sweat-drenched forehead. He smiled.I was going to write a sonnet about you. I dont think I can capture this with words. He struggled to sit up, the motion create him pain. The fact that hed managed all of this was pretty remarkable. I motivation to gothe citys curfewForget it. You can stay here for the night.But your servants are well-paid for their discretion. I brushed my lips over his skin. Besides, dont you want todiscuss more philosophy?He closed his eyes, but the smile stayed. Yes, of course. But IIm sorry. I dont know whats wrong with me. I need to rest first.I lay down beside him. Then rest.A pattern developed between us after that. Hed work on the fresco during the day his progress slowing significantly and choke his nights with me. That twang of guilt never left him, making the experience doubly exciting for me. My essence drank from his understanding while my body enjoyed the skills of his.One day, he left to run errands and didnt come back. Two more years passed with no word from him, and my worry began to grow. When he showed up on the third night, there was an an xious, harried look to him. More concerned than ever, I hurried him inside, noting a bundle under his arm.Where have you been? What is that?Unwrapping his cloak, he revealed a stack of books. I sifted through them with the wonder Id always had for such things. Boccaccios The Decameron. Ovids Amores. Countless others. Some Id read. Some Id longed to read. My heart gave a flutter, and my fingers itched to turn the pages.Ive gathered these from some of my friends, he explained. Theyre worried Savonarolas thugs will seize them.I frowned at this reference to the citys most powerful priest. Savonarola?Hes gathering up objects of sin in order to destroy them. Will you haze over these here? No one would force them away from someone like you.The books practically shone to me, far more valuable than the jewelry Id amassed. I wanted to drop everything and start reading. Of course. I flipped through the pages of the Boccaccio. I cant trust anyone would want to destroy these.These are dark da ys, he said, face hard. If we arent careful, all knowledge will be lost. The ignorant will crush the learned.I knew he spoke the truth. Id seen it, over and over. Knowledge destroyed, trampled by those too stupid to know what they did. Sometimes it happened through forceful, bloody invasions sometimes it happened through less violent but equally insidious means, like those of Fra Savonarola. Id grown so accustomed to it that I barely observe anymore. For some reason, it hit me harder this time. Maybe it was because I was seeing it through his urgent eyes and not just detect it from a distance.Bianca? Niccol? chuckled softly. Are you even listening to me? Id hoped to spend the night with you, but maybe youd rather be with Boccaccio.I dragged my eyes from the pages, feeling my lips quirk up into a half-smile. Cant I have you both? everyplace the next few days, Niccol? continued to smuggle more and more goods to me. And not just books. Paintings accumulated in my home. Small sculptur es. Even more superficial things like extravagant cloth and jewels, all deemed sinful.I felt as though Id been allowed to cross through the gates of heaven. Hours would pass as I analyze paintings and sculptures, marveling at the ingenuity of humans, jealous of a creativity I had never possessed, either as a mortal or immortal. That art filled me up with an indescribable joy, exquisite and sweet, almost reminding me of when my soul had been my own.And the booksoh, the books. My clerks and associates soon instal their hands full of extra work as I neglected them. Who cared about accounts and shipments with so much knowledge at my fingertips? I drank it up, savoring the words words the Church condemned as heresy. A enigma smugness filled me over the role I played, protecting these treasures. I would pass on humanitys knowledge and botch up Heavens agenda. The light of genius and creativity would not fade from this world, and best of all, I would get to enjoy it along the way.Things changed when Tavia showed up one day to check in. The demoness was pleased at the report of my conquests but puzzled when she noticed a small sculpture of Bacchus on a table. I hadnt but had a chance to handle the statue with my horde.Tavia demanded an explanation, and I told her about my role in protecting the contraband. As always, her response took a long time in coming, and when it did, my heart nearly stopped.You need to cease this immediately.I what?And you need to turn these items over to sustain Betto.I studied her incredulously, waiting for the joke to reveal itself. Father Betto was my local priest. You cantyou cant mean that. This stuff cant be destroyed. Wed be supporting the Church. Were supposed to go against them.Tavia raised a dark, pointed eyebrow. Were supposed to further evil in the world, my darling, which may or may not go along with the Churchs plans. In this case, it does.How? I cried.Because there is no greater evil than ignorance and the destruction of genius. Ignorance has been responsible for more death, more bigotry, and more sin than any other force. It is the destroyer of mankind.But Eve sinned when she sought knowledgeThe demoness smirked. Are you sure? Do you truly know what is good and what is evil?II dont know, I whispered. They seem kind of indistinguishable from one another. It was the first time since becoming a succubus that the lines had really and truly grown so blurred for me. subsequently the loss of my mortal life had darkened me, Id thrown myself into being a succubus, never questioning Hells role or the corrupting of men like Niccol?.Yes, she agreed. Sometimes they are. Her smile vanished. This isnt up for cope. You will yield your pile up immediately. And maybe try to seduce Father Betto while youre at it. Thatd be a nice perk.But I The word cant was on my lips, and I bit it off. Under the scrutiny of her stare and power, I felt very small and very weak. You dont cross demons. I swallowed. Yes, Tavia.The next time Niccol? and I made love, he managed a tired but happy attempt at conversation in his post-sex exhaustion. Lenzos going to confer me one of his paintings tomorrow. Wait until you see it. It shows Venus and Adonis No.He lifted his head up. Hmm?No. Dont bring me any more. It was hard, oh God, it was so hard speaking to him in such a cold tone. I kept reminding myself of what I was and what I had to do.A frown crossed his handsome face. What are you talking about? Youve already collected so much I dont have them anymore. I gave them up to Savonarola.Youyoure joking.I move my head. No. I contacted his Bands of Hope this morning. They came and took it all.Niccol? struggled to sit up. Stop it. This isnt funny.Its not a joke. Theyre all gone. Theyre going to the fire. Theyre objects of sin. They need to be destroyed.Youre lying. Stop this, Bianca. You dont mean My voice sharpened. Theyre wrong and heretical. Theyre gone.Our eyes locked, and as he studied my face, I could see that he was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, I spoke the truth. And I did. Sort of. I was very good at making people especially men believe what I wanted them to.We dressed, and I took him to the storage room Id previously hidden the objects in. He stared at the empty space, face pale and disbelieving. I stood nearby, arms crossed, maintaining a stiff and disapproving stance.Eyes wide, he turned to me. How could you? How could you do this to me?I told you I trusted you You said youd keep them safeI was wrong. Satan clouded my judgment.He gripped my arm painfully and leaned close to me. What have they done to you? Did they threaten you? You wouldnt do this. What are they holding against you? Is it that priest youre always visiting?No one made me do this, I replied bleakly. Its the right thing to do.He pulled back, like he couldnt stand my touch, and my heart lurched painfully at the look in his eyes. Do you know what youve done? Some of those can never be replaced.I kno w. But its better this way.Niccol? stared at me for several more seconds and then stumbled for the door, uncaring of the curfew or his weakened state. I watched him go, feeling dead inside. Hes just another man, I thought. Let him go. Id had so many in my life Id have so many more. What did he matter?Swallowing tears, I crept downstairs to the lower level, careful not to wake the sleeping household. Id made the same go last night, painstakingly carrying part of the horde down here a part that I didnt give to the Churchs minions.Splitting the art and books had been like choosing which of my children had to live or die. The silks and velvets had been mindless all of them went to Fra Savonarola. But the restthat had been difficult. Id let most of Ovid go. His works were so widespread, I had to believe copies of them would survive if not in Florence, then by chance some other place untouched by this bigotry. Other authors, those whom I feared had a limited run, stayed with me.The pa intings and sculptures turn out hardest of all. They were one of a kind. I couldnt hope that other copies might exist. But Id known I couldnt keep them all either, not with Tavia checking in. And so, Id chosen those which I thought most worth saving, protecting them from the Church. Niccol? couldnt know that, though.I didnt see him for almost three weeks, until we ran into each other at Savonarolas great burning. History would later know it as the Bonfire of the Vanities. It was a great pyramid stuffed with fuel and sin. The zealous threw more and more items in as it blazed, seeming to have a never ending supply. I watched as Botticelli himself tossed one of his paintings in.Niccol?s accost was curt. Bianca.Hello, Niccol?. I kept my voice cold and crisp. Uncaring.He stood in front of me, gray eyes scorch in the flickering light. His face seemed to have aged since our last meeting. We both turned and silently observe the blaze again, watching as more and more of mans finest thing s were sacrificed.You have killed progress, Niccol? said at last. You betrayed me.Ive delayed progress. And I had no obligations to you. Except for this. Reaching into the folds of my dress, I handed over a purse heavy with florins. It was the last part in my plan. He took it, blinking at its weight.This is more than you owe me. And I wont finish the fresco.I know. Its all right. Take it. Go somewhere else, somewhere away from this. Paint. Write. Create something beautiful. Whatever it takes to make you happy. I dont really care.He stared, and I feared hed give the money back. I still dont understand. How can you not care about any of this? How can you be so cruel? Why did you do it?I studied the fire again. Humans, I realized idly, liked to burn things. Objects. Each other. Because men cannot surpass the gods. Not yet anyway.Prometheus never intended his gift to be used like this.I smiled without humor, remembering an old debate of ours about classical mythology, back during our sw eeter days. No. I suppose not.We said nothing else. A moment later, he walked away, disappearing into the darkness. For a heartbeat, I considered telling him the truth, that much of his treasure was still safe. Id paid well for it to be smuggled out of Florence, away from this mad destruction.In fact, Id actually sent the goods to an angel. I didnt like angels as a general rule, but this one was a scholar, one Id met in England and tolerated. Heretical or no, the books and art would appeal to him as much as to me. He would keep them safe. How ironic, I thought, that I would turn to the enemy for help. Tavia had been right. Sometimes good and evil were impossible to distinguish from one another. And if shed known what I had done, my existence would probably be over.So I couldnt tell anyone. The secret had to stay with me and the angel, no matter how much I wished I could share it with Niccol? and comfort him. I had to live with the knowledge that I had taken his life, soul, and hope. He would hate me forever, and it was a sting I would likewise carry with me forever one that would slowly make my existence more and more miserable.My world dissolved into darkness. I was back in my box, still fix and uncomfortable. As usual, I couldnt see anything, but my cheeks were wet with tears yet again. I felt exhausted, even a little disoriented, and my heart ached with a pain that I could never put into words. I didnt see the Oneroi, but something told me they were probably around.That was truth, I whispered. That really happened.As suspected, a voice answered me in the darkness, and I all of a sudden knew the real reason they kept showing me true dreams.Your truths are worse than your lies.