Succubs on Top Page 0,73

held a perverse fascination for me. Fascinating because I was female and attracted to such things. Perverse because I knew I wouldn't be the bride at such an event. Succubus logistics obviously made that impossible. Then, of course, there was the fact that my mortal marriage had not gone so well. In addition to me cheating and pushing my husband into a debilitating depression, it had later resulted in me selling my soul and joining the ranks of hell. That didn't make for a good matrimonial track record.

Seth cut me a look, eyes amused. "Yup."

"I didn't know guys ever thought about that kind of stuff."

"Sometimes we do."

"You got any other details worked out? Or just the outside lovefest part?"

He pondered this as we returned to the living room. He wore the intense expression that seized him when he was trying to write a certain line or think of something clever to say. "I want a good buffet," he said. "Not one of those cheap ones with cold cuts. And no bows on the chairs or anything like that. Man, I hate those."

"Wow. I guess you've got it all figured out." I began pulling masking tape off the trim while he knelt down to gather more brushes.

He continued on, still considering. "And I want my bride to wear open-toed shoes."

"Why open-toed?"

He looked up with astonishment. "Because toes are sexy."

I looked down at my own bare feet. They were small and cute, each toenail painted a pale lavender. Andrea hadn't had any shoes my size.

I gave him a sly smile. "Like these toes?"

He looked away and returned to his work.

Forgetting my masking tape, I strolled over to him, trying not to laugh. "Why Seth Mortensen, do you have a fetish?"

"It's not a fetish," he replied evenly. "Just an appreciation."

This time I did laugh. "Oh yeah?" I moved my foot out to tickle his arm, wiggling the toes. "You appreciate these toes?"

"I appreciate everything about you - even how mean you are."

I crouched beside him and slung an arm around him. "To think, all this time I've been prancing around you in low-cut shirts and no underwear, in awe of your stalwart resistance, when really it was my toes - "

"No underwear?" he interrupted. "Wait. Are you wearing any now?"

"My lips are sealed. You'll have to find out the old-fashioned way. I'm not going to talk. "

"Oh," he said in a warning voice, "we have ways of making you talk."

"Like what?"

In one surprisingly quick motion, Seth sprang up and rolled me onto my back. One arm pinned me and the other held a paintbrush over me, wet with paint.

"Hey!" I cried. "That's not sexy. That's not even cool." Actually, being pinned to the floor by him was about as sexy as it got.

He stabbed it toward me playfully, never actually making contact, but I flinched anyway. "What's the problem?" he teased. "You can just shape-shift it away."

"Oh! You're a twisted bastard."

His lips quirked into a wicked smile, and he dabbed the brush at my cheek, leaving a small streak of paint. A second later, he added a matching mark on the other cheek.

"Ready for battle," he declared.

I yelped in dismay, then used his momentary satisfaction to break free and reverse the situation, rolling him over. Now I hovered on top of him, one hand on his chest, the other on his arm.

"I'm learning more about you every day," I observed, leaning my face toward his. My hair had come undone from its haphazard ponytail and now hung down, almost creating a curtain around him. "You've got a real dark side."

"Is that a problem?"

"Actually I kind of like it."

I lowered my mouth and gave him what we had now dubbed a "stealth kiss" - the kind of semi-deep kiss perfected at the concert that just pushed the envelope of succubus absorption.

I pulled up a moment later, my lips still tingling from where we'd touched. He shifted one hand to the small of my back while his other tangled itself up in my hair. A lazy and contented smile played on his face. "You want to go grab something to eat after this?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Anything. So long as the company stays this good."

I smiled and leaned down to kiss him again, only this time I had trouble keeping the kiss as stealthy as it should have been. When I should have broken away, I kissed him a little harder instead, letting my tongue probe more boldly into his mouth. Surprisingly, what abruptly