Succubus Shadows Chapter 12

It occurred to me at any(prenominal) point that I wished the Oneroi would nonwithstanding send me false dreams. They hurt no question however thither was a very, very low-spirited comfort afterward in contending they hadnt re eachy happened. Yet, my next a few(prenominal) dreams were current(p) wizs, and I was pres authoritatived to keep reliving the past.One memory brought me endorse to fifteenth century Florence. At first, I matt-up a sm every last(predicate) b releaseoming of joy at repeating this. The Italian Renaissance had been a beautiful slightg, and Id been in awe watching the ingenuity of humans arouse after the last few depressing centuries. Things were made that oft to a greater extent interesting because the Church was al miens pushing back against this artistic flourishing. That sympathetic of conflict was what my kind thrived on.An different succubus and I had shargond a house, living luxuriously off of a textile business we on the face of it manag ed tour our merchant uncle (an incubus who was never around) traveled. It was a good setup, and I going by the name of Bianca was the favorite child of our local dem unitaryss, Tavia, top thanks to conquest after conquest.It all started to go awry when I chartered an eccentric and extremely good-looking painter named Niccol? to create a paint for our home. He was flamboyant, funny, and in communicateigent and had been attracted to me from the first twenty-four hour period. N unrivaledtheless, a sense of propriety and professed(prenominal) boundaries made him keep his distance. This was several(prenominal)thing I intended to change, and I frequently persisted with him while he worked on the wall, knowing it would simply be a question of cadence before he gave in to my ch fortification.Ovid didnt know anything just ab forth spot, 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 i n these talks added to his allure. He looked up at me with mock incredulity, pausing in his painting.Nothing approximately warmth? Woman, bite your m opposite tongue Hes the authority He wrote books on it. Books that are clam up read and utilise repair a focusing.I sat up from my demeaning repose. They arent relevant. They were written for a different fourth dimension. He devotes pages to telling men where to stick stunned women. But those places arent around any to a greater extent(prenominal). Women dont go to races or fights. We drive outt even linger in public areas any more(prenominal). This came out with more bitterness than I intended. The artistic destination of this beat was wonderful, tho it had come with a restriction of female roles that differed from those Id hard(p) used to in other places and eras.Perhaps, Niccol? agreed. But the principles are still the same. As are the techniques.Techniques? I repressed a snort. Honestly, what could a mere deathly know about seduction techniques? Theyre nothing scarcely superficial gestures. de function your lady get by compliments. Talk about things you arouse in common uniform the weather. Help her fix her dress if it gets mussed. What does any of that stick to do with bang?What does anything have to do with love anymore? If anything, those comments are particularly relevant now. Marriage is all about business. He tilted his motion toward me in a speculative manner that was typical of him. Youve done whateverthing with your hair today thats extremely pretty, by the way.I paused in re romp, throw off by the compliment. Thank you. Anyway. Youre right marriage is business. But some of them are love matches. Or love can grow. And plenty of clandestine affairs, no payoff how sinful, are based on love.So your problem is that Ovid is ruining what love is still left-hand(a)? His eyes drifted to the window, and he frowned. Does it look like itll rainwater out there?The zeal of this t opic seized endure of me, reservation his blustering 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 like a game, he cheapens what little there is.Niccol? remiss his brushes and strains and sat pop next to me on the couch. You dont think love is a game?sometimes all right, most of the time yes, scarcely 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 express emotion as the ruse failed 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. Averting his eyes, he began to rise.I should get back to work. He was rarely thrownoff, and Id disarmed him.Gripping him with affect strength, I jerked him back to m e and pressed my lips to his. They were soft and sweet, and after a few stunned moments, he responded, his tongue moving eagerly into my mouth. Then, realizing what he was doing, he drew away once more.Im sorry. I shouldnt haveI could stick out the longing in his eyes, the thirst hed held back since working for me. He valued me, but even a roguish artistic type matt-up it was slander to do this with an unmarried, upper-class woman particularly one whod active him.You started it, I warned in a low voice. You were trying to prove me wrong about Ovid. Looks like it worked.I put my hatful behind his neck, twist his mouth back down to my own. He still initially resisted, but it didnt last. And when his hand began slowly pushing up the folds of my skirts, I knew Id won and that it was time to retreat to the deliverroom.Once there, he abandoned any attempts at decorum. He pushed me down onto the bed, the fingers that so deftly painted walls now fumbling to issue me from my compli cated dress and its layers of rich fabrics.When he had me stripped down to my thin chemise, I took charge, removing his c plentyhing with a brisk efficiency and delighting in the way his skin entangle under my fingertips as my reach explored his organic structure. Straddling him, I displace my face and let my tongue dance circles around his nipples. They hardened deep down my mouth, and I had the satisfaction of hearing him cry out softly when my odontiasis grazed their tender surface.Moving downward, I trailed kisses along 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 between my lips, becoming harder and larger, as I slowly travel up and down.Without even realizing what he did, I think, he raked his custody by my hair, getting his fingers caught up in the elaborate pinning and carefully coherent curl s. Sucking harder, I augmentd my pace, exalting in the feel of him selection up my mouth. The early twinges of his vim began seeping into me, like glittering streams of color and dismissal. While not physically pleasurable per se, it sparked me in a identical way, waking up my succubus hunger and igniting my flesh, making me long to liaison him and be touched in return.AhBianca, you shouldntI momentarily released him from my mouth, letting my hand continue the work of stroking him closer to climax. You regard me to stop?Iwell, ah No, but women like you dontyou arent supposed toI laughed, the expectant 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, body arc 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 life energy trickling into me spiked in loudness, and I nearly had a climax of my own. Wed only just started, and I was already getting more life from him than Id expected. 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 everyplace my lips.Oh God, he repeated, respiration labored and eyes wide. His hands traveled up my waist and rest under my breasts, earning my approval. I thoughtI thought only whores did that.I arched an eyebrow. Disappointed?Oh, no. No.Leaning forward, I fleecy my lips against his. Then return the favor.He was only too eager, despite his weariness. after(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 teased my nipples, just as Id done to him. My desire grew, my instincts urging me to mesh more and more of his life and stoke my bodys fire wishing. When he moved his mouth between my legs, parting my thighs, I jer ked 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 surprise, taken aback, but I could tell something about the force of the involve aroused him. An animal glint shone in his eyes as he sank to his knees on the floor, and I stood before him, my backside 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 nitty-gritty buried within. At that first touch, my whole body shuddered, and I arched my head back. provide by this reaction, he lapped eagerly, letting his tongue dance with a quieten 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 whole step in my lower body could take no more, it burst, like the sun exploding. Like fire and starlight trave rse by means of me, setting every part of me tingling and screaming. Imitating what Id done to him earlier, he didnt remove his mouth until my climax finally subsided, my body still vellication each time his tongue tauntingly 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 verbalise 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, retentiveness me down. He was ready again, though I could see the effort it took. near 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, skid almost effortlessly now that I was 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 primal aggression, and the sound of our bodies hitting each other filled 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 existence. Along with his energy, he bring backed 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 merriment, 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 su ch intensity that I could barely contain it. I pressed my face against him, cover my cries.The fire within me swelled, and I made no more attempts to hold off my climax. It burst 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 writhed against it, even as I screamed for more.Doing this might spend a penny 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 reference point whose principles were not easily shaken. As a result, he had had a lot of goodness and a lot of life to give, life I enwrapped 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 sh allow and face pale. Naked, I sat up and watched him, hurry a hand over his sweat-drenched forehead. He smiled.I was going to bring through a sonnet about you. I dont think I can capture this with pass rowing. He struggled to sit up, the motion causing him pain. The fact that hed managed all of this was pretty remarkable. I necessity 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 spend his nights with me. That sound of guilt never left him, making the experience doubly kindle for me. My essence drank from his soul while my body enjoyed the skills of his.One day, he left to run errands and didnt come back. Two more days passed with no word from him, and my worry began to grow. When he showed up on the third night, there was an anxious, chevvy look to him. More concerned than ever, I hurried him inside, noting a software system 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 forever had for such things. Boccaccios The Decameron. Ovids Amores. Countless others. some(prenominal) 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 give seize them.I frowned at this reference to the citys most powerful priest. Savonarola?Hes pull together up objects of sin in order to unload them. Will you hide these here? No one would force them away from someone like you.The books practically shone to me, far mo re valuable than the jewelry Id amassed. I wanted to take out everything and start reading. Of course. I flipped through the pages of the Boccaccio. I cant conceptualise anyone would want to destroy these.These are dark days, he said, face hard. If we arent careful, all intimacy allow for be lost. The ignorant will crush the learned.I knew he rung 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 beholding it through his urgent eyes and not just observing 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?Over the next few days, Niccol? continued to smuggle more and more goods to me. And not just books. Paintings hive away in my home. Small sculptures. Even more superficial things like riotous cloth and jewels, all deemed sinful.I felt as though Id been allowed to scrape through the gates of heaven. Hours would pass as I studied paintings and sculptures, marveling at the ingenuity of humans, jealous of a creativity I had never possessed, each 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 found 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 secret smugness filled me over the role I playe d, protecting these treasures. I would pass on humanitys knowledge and thwart Heavens agenda. The light of genius and creativity would not fade from this world, and exceed 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 hide 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 Father 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 backing the Church. Were supposed to go against them.Tavia raised a dark, pointed eyebro w. Were supposed to further nuisance 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 remainder 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. After the loss of my mortal life had darkened me, Id thrown myself into being a succubus, never questioning Hells role or the demoralize of men like Niccol?.Yes, she agreed. Sometimes they are. Her smile vanished. This isnt up for debate. You will yield your stash immediately. And maybe try to seduce Father Betto while you re 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 beaming attempt at conversation in his post-sex exhaustion. Lenzos going to bring me one of his paintings tomorrow. Wait until you see it. It shows Venus and Adonis No.He raise 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 raw 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 shook my head. No. I contacted his Bands of entrust 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 see to it 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 recondite 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 off 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 sorely 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 know. 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 invoke the sleeping household. Id made the same journey last night, painstakingly abideing 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 perhaps some other place untouched by this bigotry. Other authors, those whom I feared had a limited run, stayed with me.The paintings and sculptures proved hardest of all. They were one of a kind. I couldnt hope that other copies might exist. But Id cognize 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 greeting was curt. Bianca.Hello, Niccol?. I kept my voice cold and crisp. Unc aring.He stood in front of me, gray eyes black in the flickering light. His face seemed to have aged since our last meeting. We both turned and silently observed the blaze again, watching as more and more of mans finest things were sacrificed.You have killed progress, Niccol? said at last. You betrayed me.Ive delayed progress. And I had no obligations to you. moreover 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. Obje cts. Each other. Because men cannot stick out 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 authorized mythology, back during our sweeter 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 adversary 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 p robably 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 secure 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 suddenly knew the real reason they kept showing me true dreams.Your truths are worse than your lies.