The Succubus's Prize (A Deal With a Demon, #4)

by Katee Robert

In exchange, you’ll ensure my sister gets her cancer treatments, has acceptance to a college of her choice once she’s healed—all expenses for both treatment and school paid—and has access to a trust fund after she turns twenty-five.”

“Does your family know you’re doing this for them?” “No.” Of course not. They would already be on the phone, trying to schedule another exorcism.

My sister may not share my doubt, may accidentally cut me on the edges of her faith, but she alone among my family has tried to love me. Sometimes that hurts almost more than my parents’ barely concealed loathing. But she’ll be alive. She’ll have a chance to go to college and be exposed to the big, wide world.

“I thought you said your name was Azazel,” I whisper without looking at him. “Surely you must be Lucifer.” He snorts, sounding so like himself that my fear recedes even farther. He may look the part now, but he’s hardly what I would expect of a demon—or devil. “He’s a myth. I’m not.”

The contract. I inhale slowly, then exhale just as slowly. That’s why I’m here. Not for my parents, who hate me despite their creed of forgiveness and love. For Ruth, who tries to love me as best she’s able. If her love hurts, well, so much in life hurts.

Imagine how they would rage if they knew I lust after women equally, even if I’ve never acted on it.

According to my parents, I just needed to believe harder, to stop doubting, and that would fix everything.

further answers would come when she slept . . . Well, they came, didn’t they?

maybe she would understand that there’s no shame in this, no matter what her sadist of a god says. People moving about freely, without fear, interacting with love.

Sex as worship.

“But do they know you’re worshipping if they’re unknowable? How do you know they’re listening?” “We don’t. That’s not what it’s about.”

I’m not set up as their leader of their belief, only of their government.”

Insomnior

Surely a god of that expansiveness doesn’t care if I’m having premarital sex or masturbating. Surely if They paid that close of attention, all the atrocities in the world wouldn’t happen. Surely my sister, a sweet and good person, shouldn’t have gotten cancer.

As I said when we first met, my people tend to be fluid when it comes to gender. That doesn’t simply mean how they identify. Most of us are shape-shifters on one level or another, which means we can generate the necessary appendage to get the job done.”

it bothers me down to my core how much she hurts for the sake of others.

Of course one person sacrificing to benefit the whole is the way to go. Of course we don’t need to worry about that single person. They’re doing the right thing.

“Lust is natural, darling.” Rusalka twines a strand of my hair around their claw. “Acting on it is pure and good as long as it’s consensual.

“I understand the way shame feels like it’s holding you down, holding you back. But consent is nonnegotiable, little one.

I mull over what Rusalka told me about the god of the incubi and succubi, a great, unknowable being they worship through adhering to their nature because how could something intrinsic to your nature be a sin?

“And why do you want to help people so desperately, Belladonna? Is it out of genuine desire? Or is it because you don’t think you have worth if you’re not of use?”

I’m tall enough that she ends up straddling my thigh. Belladonna gasps so sweetly at the contact to her pussy through her pants.

“This isn’t tit for tat, little one. I don’t require an orgasm just because I gave you one. Your pleasure is enough for now.”

I’m rewarded by that tufted tail pressing to my pussy through my soaked panties.

You said you want to take me to bed. That’s seduction.” That’s caring, with the potential for something deeper.

“Are you going to be a good girl and take your pleasure . . . or do I have to tie you down?”

I lean forward, bracing myself on one hand above her, and trail a single finger over the robe. It takes concentration to ensure ramp up the fire to the point of burning, to demolish her robe, inch by inch, revealing her pink nipples, her soft stomach, her perfect pussy. All the better, she’s shaking and panting by the time I’m done.

I’m too far gone to worry about what it means, especially when the fire licks over my body and gathers at Rusalka’s hips. I watch with wide eyes as the flames wraps around her, pools in front, then forms . . . “A strap-on.”

Pleasure ebbs and flows in a lazy seduction that only makes everything hotter. Especially when Danik’s lips brush my ear and he says. “We’d like to take you together.” Together.