Free Incubus Moon by Andrew Cheney-Feid

rooms, most of which were open to reveal empty cubicles with plastic-covered mattresses atop raised platforms. The creaking of wood and vinyl from behind the few closed doors were accompanied by the sound of male grunts and moans. At least some of the patrons were having a good time.
    Pavel was probably behind one of those closed doors right now. The thought of him getting fucked roused my incubus appetite.
    The club’s seedy allure appeared to be growing on me. My stiffening dick was suddenly a lot more interested in further exploration.
    Rounding a bend into the deepest part of the club, I spotted a lone male leaning against a wall at the far end of the corridor.I approached him slowly, his face obscured by shadow, his features indistinct. Although there was nothing indistinct about his spiked, platinum blond hair and the tight, lean body beneath the light-colored jeans and snug-fitting T-shirt.
    I moved in to get a better look.
    We cruised each other in silence, our looks both appraising and lewd. He jutted his hips forward to display what he was offering. It looked promising.
    I chose to keep walking. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty .
    Ducking into an unoccupied cubicle at the end of the hallway, I left the door ajar and positioned myself to the right of it, thumbs wedged into the pockets of my jeans, hands covering my crotch cowboy-style. A hot, familiar energy began to churn at my core and I let my gaze drift up to the virile bodies writhing on the sands of some tropical beach on the wall-mounted video monitor. That was all it took to ignite incubus lust.
    It was also the same instant I heard the door creak open.
    A man, not the guy from the hallway, stepped inside and turned to close the door. I detected the faint clicking of a locking mechanism. Uninvited strangers did not get to lock doors on me, no matter how out-of-control horny I was.
    Trouble was, the guy was blocking my only exit.
    He turned around now and fixed me with dark, glittering eyes. “ Vide quam mihi .”
    Those three words came out in a hissing whisper and I froze in mid-step, powerless to move, alarm bells clanging in my head. I’d understood from high school and college Latin that he’d commanded me to look at him. And I had to obey.
    The instant I met his eyes, black-as-midnight pools and fueled by terrifying power, I found myself being backed into the center of the room. Icy fingers sank into the muscle of my shoulders in a vise-likegrip, and I was incapable of anything other than what that wicked gaze compelled me to do.
    Matched in height, there was also something eerily familiar about the way his lips lengthened into a cruel smile beneath an aristocratic nose. Alabaster skin stretched across high cheekbones and his dark, manicured Van Dyke beard contrasted sharply against his pale skin and shaved head. The sum total of his looks was handsome, but with a predatory edge.
    More frightening still, my incubus senses told me that this man was not human.
    “I have sought you out,” he said in Czech now, although the words echoed through my mind as though he’d spoken them in perfect English. He moved to stand behind me, my immobile body trapped in his thrall. His cool hands and forearms slid down to wrap around my waist, and then brought me in hard against the line of his hips and groin. “Do you know why?”
    I wanted to break free of him, get the hell out of there, but my body wouldn’t cooperate.
    He leaned in to brush my ear with his smooth lips, before running a cold tongue down the side of my neck, his breath coppery-sweet. Those same icy fingers popped the top button of my jeans, then the second and third one. His mind willed me to melt against the increasing hardness of him, my jeans slipping past my hips to bunch at my ankles, my belt buckle thudding against the concrete floor. “Your distinctness called to me.”
    I’d broken out in a thin layer of sweat, waves of hot and cold pouring off me.
    When I felt the brush of his pubic hair