The Incubus System Chapter 1262. Sixtynine
The Incubus System Chapter 1262. Sixtynine
It started rough and crazy.
Exactly how we both liked it.
I kissed her again, deeper, until I could taste her moan.
Then I crawled down.
Slow.
Licking, dragging my teeth along her skin like she was a dessert platter I’d earned.
Yeah, I was gonna make her beg.
Make her weep for it.
Make her say please in that low, shaky voice of hers—
But then—
She grabbed my hair.
Firm. Sudden. Confident.
Made me look up.
Her eyes burned down at me.
“No,” she said, voice low and sharp like silk over a blade.
“I want your cock.”
Her pupils were blown wide with hunger.
“In my mouth.”
I blinked once.
Then grinned.
“Then 69,” I said, already shifting. “Win-win.”
She laughed—giddy and dangerous.
“You're impossible.”
“And you’re about to be full.”
I moved fast, flipping our positions with practiced ease. The moment I got above her, my cock brushed her cheek—and slapped gently against her face.
She let out a bark of laughter. Naughty.
No shame.
No hesitation.
“You missed my mouth,” she said teasingly.
She grabbed the base with both hands—fingers wrapping tightly—and pulled it down, slowly, like unwrapping a gift she already knew she wanted.
And then?
She took me in.
Hot. Wet. Immediate.
The way her tongue curled around me, the way her mouth adjusted—greedy and smooth—it hit me like a spell. My hips jerked slightly from the sensation alone.
I exhaled through clenched teeth.
“F*ck, yes...”
Meanwhile—
My face was between her thighs.
And the view?
Insane.
Zoomed-in like my entire world had narrowed into the glistening pink folds in front of me.
She was dripping.
Every twitch of her hips made her slickness glimmer in the dim light. The scent was thick, heady, like spiced honey with a sinful twist of something darker—intoxicating in a way no drug could match.
I leaned in.
Licked her.
From bottom to top—slow, thorough—my tongue pressing into her folds and swirling at the top until I found the bundle of nerves that made her shiver.
She moaned around me.
The vibration sent a jolt through my whole body.
I kissed her lower lips again, let my tongue slide deeper now—inside her—tasting her inner heat. Hell, she was sweet.
Not metaphorically.
Like actually sweet.
Her taste hit the back of my tongue like warm nectar. Smooth. Addictive. A little citrus, a little cherry, all sin.
Her walls clenched around my tongue and yeah—
She was twitching like crazy.
I grinned into her.
Pulled back just enough to breathe against her folds and say,
“Sweetheart, if you keep tasting like this I might not survive round one.”
She sucked harder on me in response.
Mouth full. Cheeks hollowed.
Making filthy sounds that should be illegal.
Her hands massaged the base, then dipped down to fondle me gently—thumbs grazing sensitive spots like she knew where every nerve was.
I groaned.
My cock throbbed in her throat.
And I felt it—getting bigger.
Harder.
She liked that.
Loved that.
She pulled off just far enough to speak—her voice low and slick and a little breathless.
“I love watching you swell inside me.”
Her tongue flicked the tip.
“And when you finally lose control…”
She kissed the base.
“…and I feel your whole body twitch.”
Another kiss, right where it counted.
“And then—when I swallow— It’s like victory.”
I groaned like I was about to break.
My hips ground forward—but I didn’t push too far. I wanted this game.
I wanted her moans, her tugs, the filthy joy she took in dragging me to the edge.
In return?
I gave it back.
I dove back in—licking, sucking, tasting every inch. My fingers joined in, spreading her gently, letting me see her twitch and pulse and beg silently for more.
Her hands flexed on my thighs now, nails biting in. Her thighs trembled.
I could feel her close.
I flicked my tail again.
This time, the tip slid down her side—traced a line over her ribs—and curled just under her belly.
She gasped around my cock.
I moaned right into her folds.
It was mutual devastation at that point—two demons drunk on the act of worshipping each other, teasing each other, holding the line between surrender and control like it was foreplay itself. Her throat tightened just right around me as I flicked my tongue inside her again.
I could feel her—
No, taste her.
She was wetter now. Not just slick—dripping. And the more I played with her—tongue tracing the little trembling spots she didn’t even realize she had, fingers spreading her gently to get deeper—the more I could feel her throb around me.
Seriously.
She pulsed like a heartbeat between her legs.
My fingers curled inside her, just slightly, and her entire body jolted.
“Mmnnhh—!”
She let me go with a wet pop, breath shaking.
“Okay—okay that’s—too much—”
“You sure?” I teased, licking my lips, tasting her all over again. “Because you’re clenching like you’re ready to trap me.”
“Maybe I am,” she whispered, smiling like a sin incarnate.
And I liked her like this.
Flushed. Desperate. Arrogant. Needy.
Her legs trembled every time I exhaled near her thighs, but her eyes? Still sharp. Still daring me to ruin her and make her love it.
I could feel her on the edge—breath breaking, hips twitching, that sweet inner flesh spasming every time I sucked or swirled or pressed in just right.
But I wasn’t letting her finish like this.
Not yet.
I pulled away, licked my lips slow, savoring it.
Her taste was still sweet—honey, heat, a little citrus, all wrapped in something hers.
She made a frustrated noise. “Why’d you stop?”
I crawled back up, trailing kisses over her belly, her ribs, her breasts, until I was face to face again. My hand slid to one of her legs—her main leg, her dominant leg—and lifted it over my shoulder as I positioned myself between her thighs.