Commissioned [completed]

Chapter 42 - Den

You woke up with a start; it was too bright. Your limbs didn't want to move. You were paralysed or pinned down. They were draining you. You were alone.

You were then squeezed softly, and your brain numbed. There was a softly breathing nose in your hair and warm breath on your neck. A tail curled around your calf. Terzo was in front, sleeping peacefully on his side, make-up half removed and his hand on your hip. Sodo was behind his arm around your middle. In some vague awareness, Sodo kissed your nape and drew you against him with a stretch before his breathing evened again. "Mine," he purred.

Terzo's eyes peaked open at the movement; his white eye trailed from your gaze to your lips. He leaned in slightly and waited.

You met him halfway for what was supposed to be a tired chaste kiss, but he leaned further into you, and you couldn't stop yourself. You ran a hand from his nape into his hair, and his grip on your hip tightened. You separated, panting.

"Might I remind you, you have three cracked ribs, Pittore," he was also left breathless.

"I am pretty sure you started that," you narrowed your eyes.

"Hm?" There was movement behind as Sodo peered down at you, leaning on his elbow. He was shirtless, and you could make out his bruising in the setting sun's orange glow through the tent.

He drew your face to his, "Bait?" He murmured to your lips.

You traced his pointed ear and leaned up into him. He kissed you gently at first, then shifted to an urgency. You felt Terzo's hand softly tracing the skin on your stomach, you fought a moan, and Sodo swallowed it for you, licking your tongue with his forked one.

"Sodomiser," Terzo's voice had become ashy; he tugged him from you. Sodo made a low growl in response before Terzo brought Sodo's mouth to his. They kissed over you, happily rougher with each other than they had been with you. Fistfuls of rumpled clothing and hair. Sodo's forked tongue darted in and out of Terzo's mouth. You remembered that feeling and bit your lip.

Terzo touched his forehead to Sodo's drawing back. "Fuck, I want this... mmm, I can be patient." He nuzzled Sodo's face before the two looked down at you, panting. "You are very dangerous to be around," he accused.

"Oh? Are these sexy mittens too much for you?" You showed your useless hands. "I can't even touch you; pillow prince isn't exactly my thing either," you sighed.

"Fuck," Sodo adjusted his pants. "You're right; I wouldn't be able to hold back."

"Huh, you're usually the devil on my shoulder," you squinted.

"A devil who is very aware you might puncture a lung if you arch your back too far," he grimaced and tucked himself beside you, "except not a devil at all. Do you know what they look like?" He absently kissed the corner of your mouth.

"No, what do they look like?" You looked at Terzo's face turned queasy.

"Like leathery babies," Sodo made an unhappy face, and you kissed it away.

"What are incubi anyway?" You cocked your head when you drew back.

Terzo laid down next to you again, kissing your left cheek. "Uhhh, more of a you question, Sodomiser."

"We, I guess, create and feed off arousal in others... at the clergy, we're not exactly starving, so we get to pick who we feed off," he shrugged and softly bit at your ear lobe.

"You need to fuck to survive?"

"Not like that," he shrugged and ran knuckles down your arm, "can go without, just have water and food, but it isn't comfortable. Arousal doesn't have to be sex... some of us can even compel you; Terzo doesn't allow it in his contracts, though... free will and shit."