IncuBUST

Maybe Not

"Oh god!" I exclaimed my fists twisting around the bed sheets. Barapha smiled and asked, "Is this alright?" He pressed his fingers into my flesh.

"It's bloody faa-aaa-antastic."

"Did you just moan?" he asked his hands hesitating. My face burned and I reached back hitting his wrist.

"Don't stop," I said and he laughed running his finger down the length of my spine siphoning the warmth of my embarrassment.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured grinding his knuckles into the knot of muscle to the left of my spine. I gasped and mashed my face into the mattress biting down on the blanket beneath me. This was bliss.

"You're very tight, Chase. What is it that makes you so tense?" he inquired. I sighed and replied, "Life." He smirked and leaned over me kissing my neck.

"Do you imagine the alternative would be more peaceful?" he asked his lips at my ear. I closed my eyes and turned my head to the side.

"It might be," I muttered. I felt his fingertips skim lightly across the vertical scars following the curve of my shoulder blades.

"You're too young to say such things," he said pressing his lips against the scar on my right, his tongue tasting the rough upraised flesh.

"I'm over two-hundred years old," I said. He brushed his nose across my shoulder and wrapped his hands around my neck working the muscles with his thumbs.

"And I'm over two-thousand. I never wonder what death may hold."

"That's because you'll never die." He took a deep breath and straightened up moving his hands to my lower back slipping his fingers under the elastic waistband of my pants. I had changed into sweat pants. He had told me to get comfortable and skin tight leather pants weren't really my idea of comfy. Barapha had made fun of my underwear-blue and green horizontal striped boxer briefs from The Underwear Experts.

"Maybe. Maybe not," he said massaging my back in small circles with the perfect amount of pressure.

"What do you mean?" I asked trying to get up which was difficult considering he was sitting on top of me. He poked a few points on my back and suddenly I was as relaxed as a pile of pudding and I collapsed back onto the bed.

"Your scars are a lot more defined than your sisters," he said changing the subject and pinching one of the scars between his fingers. I winced. If he didn't want to talk about it, fine, but my scars were sensitive.

"My wounds reopened a lot more than hers back in the day," I replied and he released my skin leaving it tingling with heat as my blood flowed into the scarred tissue.

"I can imagine you flying," he murmured with a smile as he went back to rubbing. "People must have thought you were an angel." I scoffed and said, "More like Satan spawn. Our mother was the village witch feared and respected while Sissy and I were just...feared. Didn't she tell you?" His hands paused for a moment and then continued.

"Your sister and I didn't do a lot of talking while we were together, so no, she never told me," he retorted and there was something in his voice, a shade of meaning I couldn't quite put my finger on. Did he sound hurt? No...sad? Bitter? Relieved? Satisfied? I gave up.

"Your scars look older than hers. Do you not fly anymore?" he asked and his voice sounded normal. Maybe I was imagining things.

"I don't really have the time anymore," I mumbled raising my right arm and tucking my hand under my chin.

"That's sad. Your scars tell me you flew often in the past. You enjoyed it."

"The ability to fly is my favorite thing about being an incubus. The only good thing." He slid his hands under my chest and flipped me over so I was lying on my back.

"The only good thing?" he inquired curiously before leaning over me and pressing his lips to mine all but forcing my mouth open and shoving his life thread down my throat. That's nice too.

I reached up to grab the back of his neck and braced his mouth more firmly against mine reveling in the taste, the power of his life. The essence of his life was so bright it could be seen glowing through our skin, filling me with cool light.

Suddenly my bedroom door slammed open and Sissy exclaimed, "Chase! There's a human girl sleeping on our couch!"

I reluctantly broke away from Barapha and I sat up to watch Sissy stumble into my room drunk off the chi of a dozen odd humans. She flopped onto my bed and tackled me with a hug crying, "You're so cute without a shirt on all skinny like a pretty boy ballerina! So pretty with your eyeliner all smeared. Have you been crying?" Her voice was very loud. Suddenly she pulled away from me and looked at Barapha shaking with silent laughter and she asked, "When did he get here?"