Incubus

Incubus Part 2

James thought it would be strange and uncomfortable to share his bed for the night. It's not something he did often. Or ever. He was gentlemanly enough to at least wait for his partners to fall asleep, and then he'd leave. But more often than not, they were already passed out before the deed was even finished. The energy transference of the act as well as the overwhelming pleasure flooding their systems often resulted in loss of consciousness.

It was an unfortunate side effect, and often awkward for young incubi. Though, James had long since grown used to it. He'd actually been a little surprised by how responsive you were, even through to the end. He'd taken a rather large amount of energy out of you. Hadn't even done it on purpose. You just had a lot to give, and so he consumed, maybe even indulged. He's never felt so much transference after one coupling.

It's early morning when he awakens. You're still tucked into his side, exactly where you were when you fell asleep. He feels the sweep of your breath against his chest with your every exhale. It tickles a little, but it's nice. Comforting even. James would never admit it aloud, but there's a chance that he may even like this.

He watches over you for a few minutes. Your body is going to have to sleep through its recovery. Based on how much energy he took, James guesses that you're going to be out until later that night, maybe even until the next morning.

He knows that it'll take a lot to disturb you at this time, but he's still careful when he moves to get out of bed. Moving to his dresser, he pulls out a pair of loose lounge pants, black like nearly everything in his wardrobe, and he slips them on.

He walks silently out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. He then makes his way to the kitchen.

If he's surprised by the red head sitting at the center island, he doesn't show it. He walks straight passed her, making his way to the coffee machine. The caffeine does absolutely nothing for him, but he finds that he enjoys the taste.

"Didn't hear you come in," he mutters to the red head. The first two cups are missing from the pot, meaning she's already helped herself.

"You were still asleep," her voice is dangerously silky. "Busy night?"

He shrugs casually. Grabbing a mug from the cupboard above the cabinet, he pours his own cup. "What makes you say that?"

She scoffs. "Come on, Buck. This place absolutely wreaks of sex. And your meal left her shoes in the living room."

James grunts noncommittally.

"It's not like you to bring your dinner home with you."

"Did you need something or did you just come to drink my coffee?" he asks.

She smirks, lips painted just darker than her hair. "Well, you do get the expensive stuff."

He rolls his eyes, "You're a menace, Talia." Placing the pot back on the stand, he joins her at the island, sitting across from her.

"So how many rounds did you manage to get out of her before she passed out. You didn't kill her, did you?"

James takes a deep gulp from his coffee. "Just one. She's sleeping it off."

"One?" Talia's brows arch in surprise. "How is that possible? I can sense your energy. It feels like you just walked out of an orgy." She looks at him doubtfully.

He avoids her gaze, shrugging casually again. "It was good sex." He's not lying, but Talia is very good at telling when a person is withholding the truth.

She can see right through him. "That good, huh? Wanna consider sharing?"

His eyes blaze when they lock with hers. "You know I don't share."