The Wolf's Succubus by Erin St Charles

Author:Erin St Charles [Charles, Erin St]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781732395930
Publisher: Erin Martin
Published: 2019-02-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

In sleep, Eric Andrews was boyish and sweet looking, impossibly handsome, and kind of innocent looking. He slept in a boneless manner, limbs sprawled carelessly in all directions, one foot splayed on top of the covers. A light sheen of sweat coated his golden skin, his rangy wolf build only half covered by the sheets.

As Jane hovered a few inches from the ceiling, she gazed down on the pretty man, watching every muscle twitch, every eyelid roll, every micro expression.

The years had been kind to him. His once slender athletic build was still fit, but he had grown into his body, and the sharp planes of his abdomen were softened by age and what she supposed was a less rigorous training regimen. No longer the hard-training athlete of his youth, but a mature man in the prime of his life. Thanks to his mother's East Asian ancestors, his chest was smooth and devoid of hair. His muscles were toned, the flat, cinnamon-colored nipples beading slightly. She wondered if he could sense her there, even asleep, with his eyes closed.

His lips were slightly parted and she imagined pressing her lips to his, sliding her tongue into his mouth, plunging deep and tasting deeper. Feeding.

Feeding.

She waited for her breath to slow. She was breathing so hard she was almost dizzy from it. His scent was strong. It was fresh and grassy and filled the room. It seemed to pour from his pores and mix with her own. Together they created a haze of lust as heavy and ephemeral as a bale of cotton candy. She inhaled deeply, even more aroused from the familiar, yet new, combination. She hadn't really scented him for a decade. She took a moment to savor it, and the two of them together.

She wouldn't do this without him, so she hovered, and waited.

After a few long moments, Eric's eyes slowly opened, blank and unseeing.

He felt as if he were having a lucid dream, his limbs pressed down as if covered with the weighted blanket of sleep paralysis. His eyes focused on her and a slow smile curved his mouth. She knew he saw her as a ghostly, nude figure gazing down upon him. Breasts swollen with lust, nipples beaded into diamond points. If he touched her, he'd find desire slick in the folds of her pussy. She knew her dark eyes were heavy with lust, her back bowed in an offering to him.

Her consciousness floated above him while her actual body experienced a similar kind of paralysis to what Eric was experiencing, though she was yards away, asleep in her own bed. It was only her consciousness that was an astral projection in Eric's room.

He smacked his lips in his sleep, his eyes roving over her. Then he made a low moan and kicked his sheets off his body, tangling first at his feet until he got free of them. The discarded sheets lay in a heap at the foot of the bed, half on the bed, half on the floor.

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