Incubus Kiss

2. Invitation

Adrian’s member trembled against Edan’s stomach, forming a cream spot. The movements were extremely abrupt. Panting in the air, Adrian cried out silently, pleasure ravaging from within. His nails grasping the other’s back, his climax was nearing. His member swelled against Edan’s abdominals, releasing his seed in a thick path. The beast-man groaned and Adrian felt the length swell, in a tidal wave, filling his insides with cum, as the pace came to an end, connected in that moment.



Edan removed his shaft, seed and oil mixed in the moisture dripping from his member and Adrian’s rear. The nail marks on his shoulders produced blood. Adrian, feeling partially guilty licked the spots, saliva running from his tongue. The act of tenderness was uncared of by the steel man.



Adrian drifted to sleep on the cold concrete, resting his head on the white tank top.



“Sweet dreams, Adrian.” The last phrase he would hear in his ending life.





****





Adrian...



The word sprouted measly like an alienated purr. A shiver looping down his spine, he felt the solid darkness against him. His eyes stumbled upon the beast’s grotesque features, livid grey eyes, black leather wings, dark grey skin, razor-sharp claws, and between chunks of grey hair, two curved horns were visible, with a thick black cream on the lips; the room bearing a nauseating scent of dying roses.



You’re mine, Adrian.



His naked body shuddered in fear. Crawling backwards to the far away tool box, his terrorized eyes never left the creature.



You’re mine, Adrian.



The sentence formed on the beast’s lips as he leaned forward imprisoning Adrian’s mouth. Fighting with unreachable fists, whiteness started to stain his vision from the corner of his eyes. Unanswered questions lost their way; the sucking kiss seemed to take more than his breath.





****





Drums vibrated in the air. Rhythms increased, maracas shacking accordingly in the depths of Adrian’s mind. Loose pieces of memories from his childhood came back and forth, disturbing him.



Adrian…



A soothing husky voice drifted into his brain. The memories shattered. The rumble stopped.



Adrian.



Again, a whispered growl stroked him sweetly, almost teasing.



Adrian.



The voice’s echoes swam in his head, playing with his senses, piercing stronger each time.



Adrian!



It exasperated, growling heavier. It was becoming unbearable; a pain rose in his raw fingers, his right hand seemed paralyzed.



Adrian!!



It stroked again, a beast’s snarl shaking his insides. His face trapped in shock twitches.



ADRIAN!!!



The last one was almost a yell, a thunder voice ravaging his mind.



“Wake up, fucking asshole! Hey! Fucking bitch!!”



A hand smacked his cheeks, his glassy eyes blinked unfocused. Cold water dripped down his head, awakening a shivering Adrian to reality. A chocolate haired man with tingling almond eyes glared at him, a grin on his peach, firm lips.



“Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”



Sarcastically smirking, Isaac glared at a flustered Adrian. Adrian was naked, sitting on the leather couch of the chief’s office, a tiny cloth covering his thighs.



“You’re fucking lucky cause the chief found you first.”



Rolling his eyes, Adrian caught his plastic bag near his feet, but there were no clothes in it.



“I brought you here. Now you gotta tell me, what the shit were you doing, cause the sight wasn’t pretty. I though you were fucking dead.”



Adrian rewound his memories to the last night, but only blurs seemed to emerge. His hand touched his crimson cheek, numb from the slaps he received from Isaac.



“Oh, you seem to only wake with fucking slaps, so I practiced.” Isaac’s lips chuckled ironically. He was obviously provoking Adrian, but the other lingered, since fighting with Isaac would oblige him to stand up and probably run, with only a tiny cloth covering his southern regions.



“I’m gonna go back to the shit work.” Isaac motioned towards the white door.



“What about my clothes?” Adrian asked grouchily.



“What clothes? There was only that bag, oh, and your naked fucked up ass.” Adrian flushed, glaring in a sharp warning.



His hands gripped the white cloth, ready to throw it at his teasing companion. Isaac was only a snarling boy, no power to sustain his sarcasm, but Adrian didn’t feel like putting up with him as usual.



“Fine, I’ll bring you some of my fucking clothes,” Isaac growled, pissed by the null response.



“Thanks” Adrian replied, but Isaac had already left, his footsteps were only heard for a moment down the office.



He felt something slippery in his ass, his hand reached for the entrance. There was a white, cream substance covering the flesh. It had a faint vanilla scent. Confused, Adrian tried to recall when did he placed such cream, but he couldn’t remember. Hoping it hadn’t been the chief or Isaac, Adrian remained still, waiting for the clothes.





****





Adrian closed the door to his rented apartment. His chief had ordered him to go home, and “get laid” instead of showing up at the office, with “the cheeks in the oil”. He crashed on his undone bed, still dressed in Isaac’s worn out clothes, his feet above the metal frame. Only a wooden closet and an old mirror decorated his beige bedroom. Sleepiness silently took him over.



He felt slippery; his eyelids were heavy, bags under his eyes. Twitching under the cotton sheets, he was wrapped in a cold sweat. Adrian felt sick, dizzy, something was terribly wrong. Black, thick oil invaded his arms, drowning him in solid darkness. In half a second, the greasy layer slid over his stomach, creating a dark pool. His irregular breath fought against the sinister moisture that invaded in a sluggish wave. In the air, a strong, nauseating smell of vomit and blood burned his nostrils.



You’re mine, Adrian.



A cracking growl roamed his brain, squeezing his nerves in boiling water. A black, dark figure emerged in the centre of the moist, his torso showing, two grotesque hands appeared, pulling Adrian hungrily. The figure snarled heavily, playing with Adrian’s body like a puppet doll. A scream ripped from Adrian’s throat, echoing through the room.



He woke up.

He sat up automatically, the sheets falling on the wooden floor. His hand reached to his forehead, brushed away sweaty hair from the half-closed eyes. Lately, all his sleep was attacked by the same nightmare, the black, sucking creature. You’re mine Adrian. That sentence stayed in his mind, casting him into darkness.



His eyes widened gazing at the small window behind the bed. The moonlight touched his face and shoulders, bracing him in a cold light. Something glittered on the nightstand, a folded invitation to a club called Goblin’s Red Eye. It was given to him by Isaac and he pondered about it for a while, deciding to go in the last minute, accepting the suspicious invitation. Isaac never offered him anything related to the clubs he visited. He claimed Adrian needed “a fucking night of sex,” although the smirk on his lips said otherwise.



He observed the card more intently. In a corner, a blood red eye with a gleaming, silver pupil was the probable reason for the glitter reflected on the wall. The eye seemed mysteriously attractive. Adrian squeezed the invitation, watching it fold in wrinkles. He liked the sensation against his hand.



The creature still lurked in his mind. When he forced the image to fade away, he could only imagine it swimming in his pupil, devouring his brain. He would probably not sleep after that. Adrian pushed the white cotton sheet above his shoulders, gazing at the ceiling. He concentrated on a dirty spot right above his eyes. His mind was blank, a trail of saliva was slowly running down his chin, but he paid it no mind.



After two hours of intense gazing at uninteresting objects, Adrian fell asleep. He tilted his head, slightly beside the metal frame. All his members were flat open, trying to avoid the contact with his burning skin, as if he had been stroked by the hot summer temperatures.