Little Love | Chapter I (Patreon)

Author's Note: Hey there! Cat here! Long before Nyarlea or the Sanctum of the Nine Arts, Tristan Erato was whisked away by a beautiful succubus named Lilith as the newest target of her desires.

Ten years ago, I wrote Little Love and Little Secrets while I was still trying to publish serially as a solo author on Amazon. Both Little Love and Little Secrets outsold my main series, and my friends group called it "The most agreeable story." There are even blog reviews on them by Tera, Queen of the Succubi. I had meant to write a third installment, but, unfortunately, it just never happened.

Fast-forward to now, and NDJackSparrow found it...somewhere. I'm honestly not sure where. And I'm impressed, because I thought I'd buried it pretty well. He very kindly commissioned me to clean it up and write the third installment. I want to share it with you guys before I publish it.

I hope you enjoy the story!

The air was heavy, thick, suffocating. Impossible to breathe. Tristan struggled to open his eyes, a feat that seemed monumental against the searing heat that pressed him down.

“Ah, my little love is awake.”

That voice. It struck a note of familiarity somewhere far off in his memory. Like a song he hadn’t heard in ages. The mere sound of it stroked his every nerve in a way that physical contact could not. That voice was like silk. Like chocolate. Like sex.

“Ngh…” The only reply Tristan could manage was a moan. He grew increasingly aware of a cool, slick fabric brushing against his bare skin. Satin? It brought a hundred questions to his mind. At the forefront of them all: Where was he?

“Don’t move too quickly. We have all the time in the world,” she laughed beneath her breath. It was a light sound—like the tinkling of a bell—but it promised deeds too vulgar for Tristan to fathom.

“Where...?” he began again before her gentle fingertips touched his lips.

“Hush now, you’ve nothing to worry about.” There was the sound of fabric shifting, and then a weight resting beside him. “You’re safe with me.”

Tristan’s vision cleared. Curtains of sheer, red material were draped around high posts, enclosing them within a great canopy bed. He carefully turned his head, vertigo tinkering with his vision.

And there she was.

“Why, hello there.” Her smile was a perfect blend of ivory and mischief, surrounded by luscious pink lips and blushing cheeks. The sparkling emeralds that were her eyes measured him greedily—hungering for him in ways that brought color to his cheeks. Locks of thick, auburn hair cascaded to her shoulders, flipping into unpredictable, errant curls that framed her collarbone.

“Lilith,” Tristan rasped. Sporadic events of their previous meeting fell into place. “How did I...?”

“Shhh.” She leaned in and gently bit his ear, her tongue tracing the creases. Her breath was warm and her tongue on fire; it was almost too much to bear. Shuddering beneath her lips, Tristan’s hands wandered, finding her generous, naked breasts lying against the satin. “Oh? You shouldn’t be so eager so soon.”

Her skin was pale as moonlight and as soft and silky as the satin that surrounded them. Her chest weighed heavily against the palms of his hands, and her nipples hardened. Tristan moved his face toward them, unthinking, but she tugged on his short blonde hair, pulling him away from his desire.

“You need to rest, little one.”

He ran his hands down the taut curve of her stomach, tracing her wide hips with his fingertips. She was beautiful, irresistible, absolutely intoxicating.

Lilith was twice his age. And he wanted nothing more than for her to force his face in between those great breasts.

But it was still difficult to breathe. The air between them was cloying, choking his gasps. Yet, it didn’t seem to affect her in any way. A thin layer of sweat covered his vulnerable body while Lilith’s skin remained perfectly dry.

“It’ll be a while yet before you feel better,” she purred, running her long fingers through his hair. The points of her painted nails brushed against his scalp, and he shivered despite the heat.

“What did you do to me?” he finally managed, but wasn’t sure if he cared.

“I brought you here to rest.” The smirk decorating her lips said that, somehow, this was her plan from the moment they’d met. “We’ll have plenty of time together later.”

Lilith’s fingers danced across Tristan’s cheek and down his throat. Another shiver ran its course through his body before his eyelids sagged with exhaustion.

“Sleep, little love. I’ll be here when you wake.”

And so he did.