Demons of Lust Read online

  Demons of Lust

  by

  Silvana S. Moss

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Demons of Lust

  Copyright © 2012 Archer Publishing LLC

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Archer Publishing LLC, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Published in the United States of America

  Leon Olivier Lambert: the school’s finest example of elegance and refinement. He was adored by women; envied and hated by men. Still he went through life with a smile befitting his elegant lifestyle. Like his initials suggested, he was always laughing and taking life as it came. One of the things that made Leon so popular was that he was 100% French, born and raised, in an American university. If there was one thing American girls could never resist, it would be an exotic accent. American girls had a fantasized idea of Frenchmen in particular, which meant that Leon was hardly ever without a date.

  Despite being the university’s most eligible bachelor, Leon refused to take a steady girlfriend. Instead he surrounded himself with adoring fangirls, and tried to give them all equal amounts of his time and affection. Overall, he was very content with this situation. A girlfriend would get jealous if he was with other girls; a girlfriend would be needy, while fangirls could be pleased just to receive a second glance and didn’t care if he spent time with all of them; in fact they preferred it. That is not to say that Leon did not care at all for these girls. His greatest pleasure was to see them happy.

  On a typical Thursday afternoon, he was sitting with several of his girls in the student union. One girl was playing with his warm blond hair, while the others sat and listened to him talk with dreamy expressions.

  “Leon, you are going to the homecoming dance aren’t you?” a petite brunette asked, smiling timidly.

  “Ouί, but of course ma cherie.” He said with a smile that made her blush.

  “Who are you going with?” one of the bolder girls asked. They all leaned forward with anticipation. Of course everyone wanted to be his date, but for the past two years he tried not to have an actual date. Leon opened his mouth to remind them of this policy he held, but fell silent.

  It was then that Leon noticed a girl in a similar situation to himself. She was evidently new, but she was surrounded by their male colleagues. Black hair tumbled in gentle curls down to her mid-back. Like a night sky, her hair held a blue sheen and her face was the moon. He had never seen a girl with skin so beautifully white. Most American girls were into tanning, but Leon held an affinity for pale skin. There was something so delicately beautiful about it. It was as if she were a perfectly painted china doll. Her eyes twinkled like stars and seemed to glance his way. He felt immediately drawn to her.

  “Perhaps I should take the new girl, no?” Leon said, “But do not despair my little doves. There will be a dance for each of you, even if I must dance all night long.” He winked playfully and some of the girls burst into awkward giggles that would normally cause them to flee in embarrassment. Leon was certain she was looking at him now, though her eyes moved freely. He felt it..

  “Excusez-moi mes amis,” the French boy said, standing from his seat and walking over to the new girl.

  “Shoulda figured Mr. Gift-to-women would head over to check out the new chick,” Leon’s friend Paul said, giving him a playful shove, “You tore yourself away from your adoring fans I see.”

  “Paul, who is she?” Leon asked, staring slightly at the new beauty.

  “Her name’s Dominique,” Paul said, “She just flew in from France, man. Go charm her. Dude, it’s like, freaking destiny or something.”

  “No, mon ami,” Leon said, looking awkward for once in his life, “You know that I am not the type to have a girlfriend. She does not seem the fangirl type. I should leave her alone.”

  “Come on, dude!” Paul said, “You didn’t walk over here, leaving your horde of girls to ‘leave her alone.’ She’s like, your destined girlfriend! You’re both French, you’re both fucking gorgeous! Just do it, man!”

  Paul gave Leon a shove forward, making him bump into another young man, whose drink then went flying and spilled upon the lovely new girl. The young man started freaking out on Leon, cursing angrily, while Leon moved forward, grabbing napkins to sop up the mess.

  “Pardonnez-moi Mademoiselle,” Leon said, “I am so sorry.”

  Despite having been drenched in a soft drink, the young woman’s face lit up. She touched Leon’s hand and held it warmly in her own.

  “Monsieur Compatriote!” she said with a near angelic smile. His face turned red. He hadn’t heard his native language spoken by a fellow native speaker in years. He nodded dumbly, feeling awkward, even though he had been fully aware that she was French. Her voice was pulling him in like a mystical siren. She giggled, taking the napkins from him.

  “Excusez-moi monsieur,” she said, going to the restroom to clean up, leaving him standing there looking dumbfounded. Paul pulled him away from the crowd.

  “Dude! What is up with you? You’re seriously losing your cool! She’s just another girl. If you don’t catch her now, this could be your only chance! I mean, look at her! She’s the prettiest girl to enroll here since that girl who went on to be Miss USA! She already has a bigger horde of boys than you do of girls. If you don’t charm her when she gets back, she’s gone!” Paul lectured his foreign friend.

  Dominique returned and she didn’t even look like soda had been spilt upon her. Her hair bounced slightly as she walked. The dark blue dress she was wearing accentuated every luscious curve.

  “Monsieur Compatriote,” she greeted him with her charming smile. Leon bowed and kissed her hand, turning the charm up to a new level as his friend had suggested.

  “My name is Leon Olivier Lambert. Mademoiselle, please, allow me to buy lunch for you,” he said.

  “That seems an appropriate way to apologize for causing a drink to fall upon me,” Dominique said. He led her away.

  “Yeah! That’s my boy!” Paul said quietly with a fist pump.

  Like a real European gentleman, Leon pulled out Dominique’s chair out for her, seating her, before sitting across from her at the small dining table. Dominique twirled a piece of her lustrous black hair around her finger.

  “I saw you with all of those girls,” she said, “But not one is lover?”

  Leon gave an awkward laugh.

  “Ah, no,” he said, “I’m afraid… I have not found the woman… special enough for such an honor.”

  “You are indeed modest, are you not?” Dominique laughed.

  “Well, what can I say?” Leon mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Dominique leaned over the table slightly.

  “So… you have… never been with a woman?” she asked.

  “I… uh… no Madamoiselle… I… umm…” Leon’s face tinged pink and soon was very red. This was odd lunch time conversation.

  “But, I can tell, you like to make women happy, no?” Dominique had a devious twinkle in her dark eyes.

  “I do…” Leon said.

  “You are so full of love and life Monsieur Lambert.” She mused. Her face held a dreamy expression as she looked at him from across the table.

  “Pardon?” Leon looked confused. She tilted his chin up with one finger and looked straight into his eyes..

  “Be mine,” she said, “Anything you ever wanted, I will make it happen, but be mine Leon Olivier Lambert…
”

  Her voice had dropped to a whisper and the softer her voice became the more Leon was drawn in by it. He found himself leaning in over the table to meet her. The world around him seemed to fade away. He was inches away.

  “Why would you want me, Mademoiselle?” he whispered.

  “I… am not what I seem,” she breathed, “You are beautiful, so full of love, I can almost taste it.”

  With every word, Dominique leaned in a little closer, until her lips grazed over his. Her dark eyes met his once again and he was transfixed in his seat.

  “Mademoiselle… I am yours,” he whispered softly.

  “Tres bon Monsieur Lambert,” she whispered, and grabbed his collar, pulling him into a deep kiss.

  Despite his playboy attitude, Leon was surprisingly innocent and when he was forced into the kiss he gave a slight mewl. It was a strange sensation as he felt her tongue, hot and wet, wiggle in past his lips and teeth, ravishing his mouth. His own tongue swirled back against hers. She stood to her feet, breaking the kiss, leaving him flustered and flushed.

  “Follow me mon petit cher,” she whispered, leading him away. They hadn’t had lunch, but he couldn’t think straight after their kiss. He followed her away from the bustling union to the quiet and solitary chapel on the other end of the campus.

  “What are we doing here ma cherie?” Leon asked as they stepped inside. He looked around. He had only been in the chapel a few times, but it was lovely, with stained glass windows all around and a crucifix hanging above the pulpit.

  “You will have to forgive me Leon,” Dominique whispered, “Deceit, it is my nature.” She pulled him close and kissed him again. Leon did not know what she meant as they kissed in the empty chapel. Her lips were soft and supple and tasted vaguely of strawberries and honey. His hands rested on her hips. He suddenly felt very faint and dizzy. The room was spinning. Was this what it was like…? To be in love…?

  “I am sorry, Leon… Pardonnez-moi…” Dominique whispered as Leon grew dizzier. She helped him lay down. Her hair falling slightly in front of her face she leaned over him, playing with his blond hair.

  “Am I dying?” he asked, looking up at her.

  “No,” she whispered, “But you probably feel like you are, no?”

  “I do not feel… right…” Leon said, looking up at her, “You are so beautiful ma cherie.”

  “Do you love me, Leon?” Dominique asked, tucking her dark hair behind her ear.

  “I think so,” he whispered, reaching up to caress her face.

  “That’s no good enough!” Dominique said, “I… I need to know that you love me!”

  “But… Dominique… I have only just met you.. perhaps an hour ago… You are… enchanting, but… how can I know that I love you?”

  “Leon… say you love me…”

  “I… love you, Dominique…”

  His words were rewarded with her lips on his again.

  “I love you, Leon,” she whispered, “And that is surprisingly hard for me to do. I am stealing from you mon amour, and what I steal, can never be truly returned. Please let me give you everything that you could ever want.”

  “Dominique… ma cherie… I don’t understand,” the young man said, “If you need money, I am not lacking in it, I can give you what you need.”

  “You can give me what I need,” she breathed, straddling his hips as she spoke, “But I do not need your money mon amour. You love me, no?”

  “Oui, I love you Dominique.”

  “Will you always love me, Leon?”

  “…Oui… I will always love you…”

  “Then I can tell you the truth…” Dominique looked down at him. Her dress was riding up as she straddled him and he could see a flash of black panties.

  “I am not… like you…” she whispered, “I am… I am not… human…”

  Leon looked surprised… shocked, and slightly frightened.

  “What do you mean? What are you then?”

  “I am… a lust demon, a succubus,” she whispered, looking downward, “I feed on your love for me. I felt it as soon as you came close to me, you are a man who is so full of love, I wanted you so much for my own.”

  Leon’s heart sank and Dominique frowned.

  “Leon… please… “

  “You used me… this is why I feel this way is it not, ma cherie?”

  “It is… but Leon… I do love you, I know I do. You… you are the only man in over a century that I did not kill. How could I? You are so sweet and beautiful. Please, do not make me regret the decision…”

  “No… no ma cherie, you are incapable of love, you are heartless and soulless. How could I possibly trust you?”

  “I will give you the world…” she whispered desperately. She leaned down and began to kiss on his neck and down onto his shoulder, “Leon… anything you desire, I will obtain it for you… just feed me with your sweet love…”

  “Dominique!” Leon tried to push her away, “This is a place of God! Do not desecrate it so!”

  “Mon amour, I am a demon…” she whispered, “To me, this is just a building.”

  She kissed softly on his chest, making a trail of red lipstick smudges down his body. He groaned, his back arching slightly. She smirked and retraced her trail back up with her tongue. It sent shivers through his body.

  “Leon… life could be perfect for you and me,” she whispered against his skin, “I’ll see that you get whatever job you want. That you are never in need of any pleasure you desire.”

  “Nnngh…. Dominique…” the young man groaned. She was driving him insane.

  “You are torturing yourself mon amour,” she whispered, “Your pleasure is my pleasure. I want to make you feel good and be happy.”

  Leon bit his lower lip, shivering. Her curvaceous body was rubbing up against his, and he still couldn’t stand to his feet, for fear of passing out completely.

  “Come now, Leon, are you so self-righteous, so innocent that you do not want me?” Dominique breathed in his ear.

  “I cannot trust you,” Leon said, trying to ignore his desire for her.

  “Leon…” Dominique pouted, “Do you really not want me?”

  “Any straight man would be lying if he said he did not want you ma cherie,” Leon said, “But you are a demon. And though you profess your love for me, you are a liar. You cannot love. You feed on the love of others and never give any back!”

  Leon pushed her off of himself, finding his strength in his convictions. Dominique looked up at him and her dark eyes grew tearful.

  “You are wrong…” she whispered, “To give love from inside of me is not an easy thing to do, but I am capable of doing it. I have in the past.”

  “You are a liar,” Leon insisted, his eyebrows knitting together in anger as he stood up.

  “I will show you,” the raven-haired beauty whispered. She took his hand and led him to the front of the chapel, where upon the altar was a bowl and a pitcher of water. She poured the water in to the bowl until it reached the brim. Then she bit her finger and let a drop of blood drop upon the surface. Water poured over the lip of the bowl, but just a little.

  “Stare into the water, mon amour,” she told him, “And you will see the first time I fell in love. I have been on this earth for over 2000 years. The things you see will be strange to you, but do not look away. When you look away the spell will be broken.”

  Leon looked into the water and was brought into some kind of trance as images began to swirl into the blood stained water and he saw them move, and could hear the sound of horses.

  Horses were traveling through Medieval Great Britain. On one horse was a young woman with long raven hair that curled gently down her back. Her name in those days was Felicia. She had spent many years in Rome, but had a sense of foreboding and travelled to Great Britain in hopes of avoiding it. Here in this primitive land there were less people to love her, but so much disease, she could suck them dry and leave them in a ditch without anyone caring.

  Feli
cia dismounted her horse when her party reached a busy town. Men, women and children were gathered in the square, where a man was being publically humiliated. She melted into the crowd and looked at this poor man. His eyes came into contact with hers and she felt it. She felt that despite all of these misdoings, his heart swelled with love, and she knew she must do something to help him. She pushed her way through the crowd until she was in the front and partially shielded him.

  “What has this man done?” she asked in Latin, but no one understood her. She touched him and picked up their vernacular language and asked again.

  “He is a heretic!” The people began to shout. An official walked over and began to drag him away. Felicia grabbed the officials arm.

  “What is going to happen to him?” she asked.

  “He’s to be beheaded tomorrow,” the leather-clad man said gruffly.

  “No!” Felicia looked horrified.

  “Do not cry for me, my sister,” the man said, “For I am bound for a better place.”

  “That’s enough out of you Edwin of Kent!” the official said and dragged him away.

  Despite the danger, Felicia followed. She was a succubus. They could destroy this human form, but she could make another. “Who has charged this man?” she demanded.

  “The high priest. You have something to say woman?” the gruff man asked.

  “Sister, please, do not make this trouble for yourself,” Edwin said.

  Felicia looked at Edwin and then turned and left. She went to find this “high priest.” She approached him without fear.

  “You hold the power to pardon Edwin of Kent, do you not?” she asked him boldly.

  “Remove yourself woman,” he said, “Or I will have someone else remove you.”

  “I want to barter for his life,” the dark-haired woman said, “I have gold from Rome.”

  She laid out six gold pieces on the table in front of him and saw his eyes light up with greed, but it wasn’t enough. It dulled away.

  “His life is not for sale,” the priest said.

  “I have more than money to offer you,” she whispered, leaning over the desk. She took her cloak off, showing him her body. He looked at her with intrigue.