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It was early night. She lay on her back, sprawled with the others on a wide picnic blanket. She brought a flute to her lips and drank long. Rafel smacked his lips as he licked at his empty plate. He made groaning sounds of appreciation.

"I don\'t know," said Aya Naamah with uncertainty to Sekhmet\'s words. "Lord Israfel was the one who preferred my fair complexion, and I rather like it."

"As compared to your hypnotic blue skin?"

"I do not know anyone who could stand you in your full reveal, love. No one." Ravenna assented with Sekhmet\'s rhetoric.

"I\'ve never seen a succubus\' real form—" Rosa broke a carrot, "I would like to."

The blanket was like a river on the soft earth that deepened outwards, running down to the creek. It was a beautiful night, full of stars; twinkling like magic. The wind carried harp music from a part of the island distant to them and brought it near. It was a lovely tune, and Rafel listened.

He could see, if he looked in the direction, the silhouette of that old bard humoring the Islander village to a folk tale.

"They speak the truth. You can be yourself with us, Naamah, and I think you should." Rafel agreed with the women.

Aya flushed, then grinned. She sat up straighter on the picnic blanket. "Okay then, brace yourselves! A ton of you might feel the urge to spontaneously take off your clothes and lunge for me. Know that it\'s not entirely you; my lust aura is addictive."

Sekhmet dropped her wine goblet and observed with a keen interest. Everyone did.

Aya began to glow. Her body pulsed visible with a rich purple radiance. She shimmered like fairy dust pouring from a Seely Court reservoir. Her healthy mix of milk and Choco skin deepened and surged with potent magick. It was like a trick of some [Druid Caster] you might find in a Royal\'s birthday party. Only it wasn\'t.

The color of her skin kept glowing and changing until she was blue.

Blue as a Smurf.

She blinked curiously round the blanket.

Her golden horns shot out the front ends, partially hidden in a raven waves.

She was riparian blue, the color of the ocean; cold, thrilling, and hell of seductive.

"Woah!" Ravenna gasped.

"Goddamn! You\'re so beautiful." She didn\'t even know her hands were reaching out until she felt the pure mounds of Aya\'s full breasts in her palms. When she squeezed, Aya laughed and put her hand away.

"I told you so."

Ravenna had a glaze over her green eyes. "Are your nipples blue?"

"What?" Aya chided.

She giggled, and a salacious smile split her full lips.

In a flash move, she dropped her corset top, just enough for her juicy boobs to pop free, bounce and sway in the air, before she dragged the straps back up. "Holy shit!" Ravenna gulped. "You\'re so sexy. So beautiful." Her \'beautiful\' sounded out as \'bootiful\'. Her long fingers were reaching out for Aya\'s perky chest again. "You have just the right amount of grab—"

"Okay! Someone has had too much alcohol for the evening." Aya slapped her hand away and jumped to her feet. She rose on the blanket to her feet. She pulled Ravenna up with her. The slender girl had round eyes on her boobies and caressed Aya softly. Sekhmet was giggling by Rafel\'s side at this.

Aya said with a smile, "she\'s tipsy. I\'ll get her to bed."

She started for the cottage\'s door.

"GOODNIGHT!" She whipped back.

Under the stars, her true beauty was revealed: an allure of the night.

"In the ancient days of the Holy Templar rule," said Rafel, spying the swish of her hips. "the monks wrote that the Succubi were the most nightmarish demons, more frightful than a sight of a Wraith. For they believed, and it was rumored, several succubi were pretty enough to kill a man. And that was before we knew they could literally fuck one to death."

"I\'m off to bed too," Sekhmet said. "I\'ve prepared the cabin\'s basement, Lord Israfel, so you might sleep unencumbered. Should the bandages come off or the pain worsen—"

"I\'ll call you," Rafel finished dourly for her.

Sekhmet smiled. "I\'m only a floor away." And then she left.

Rafel was now alone with the hot Detective. He turned to glance at her. She was staring. Her shiny bob framed so attractively her brilliant look, and her fashion was chic. She wore tight dark jeans. Her gray eyes smoldered like a caldron.

Rosa had the kind of hotness that was forbidden. A look or blink that could make a man strung so fast he could barely breathe. She was crazy fucking hot.

And her gray eyes. . .like a freaking storm.

Whew!

She sat with her hands back, staring at the open neck of Rafel\'s plaid shirt and the peeking slip of fair skin. Rafel noticed she wore a string shirt like him, her chaplet and it\'s holy black beads—and how much he would just love to rip off both of them. She finally lifted her eyes to his.

"Shit," she knew she\'d been caught staring. "I-I should go to bed too, sir."

"You don\'t need to call me Sir."

"I can\'t call you Israfel."

"Then call me His Eminence."

Rosa met his liquid gaze. He wasn\'t kidding. She found him so hot at the moment. Wicked, steaming, breathtaking hot. "I should—" Rafel did not let her finish.

"Help me in," he said.

Rosa stood up and nearly folded the blanket. She took Rafel\'s weight over her. She noticed the mould of his strong muscles and how he enveloped her, and how nice he smelled—a little bit of woman, and how he tried not to wince. She found her cane and quickly placed it under his free arm. She guided him with a candle lamp down the wooden stairs to the basement of the cottage.

The room was homely, large enough, and had a fat mattress in the rear corner.

Rosa walked Rafel to it. "Here you go. . .easy," she put him down on the bed delicately. "I\'ll just leave the lamp here," she said.

She turned swiftly. But Rafel\'s baritone stopped her. "Why are you here, Rosamunde?"

She whipped back. She finagled with her hair, for the umpteenth time glad that it was short. She couldn\'t handle Rafel\'s scorching gold pupils, and so she focused on the candle\'s flame instead. At least, this fire didn\'t burn her, or feel like it was consuming her in sin.

The basement suddenly grew stuffed and small, suddenly smelled like the [Holies] of a Cathedral: incense and myrrh, suddenly LOOKED like a tiny, benign Chapel.

"I met Ravenna and Aya on the ship. They enlisted my help to find you, and I felt that after the Count\'s homicide case, I owe—"

"Bullshit. You don\'t owe me anything."

Rafel\'s tone was hard.

"I ask again, Rosamunde, WHY ARE YOU HERE?"

She loved the way he called her name. She was troubling the silvery crucifix dangling down her neck. Her skin singed with raw desire. She was primed up for fucking. She knew he could smell her. Demons could do that.

Fucking demons!

"I WANTED TO SEE YOU!" She blurted out.

"Is that all? Huh, Rosa? Or are you keeping something back? Something you really WANT?" Rafel relaxed back into the the propped pillows. She still refused to meet his eyes but he knew she could feel them: pinpricks all over her horny flesh. "Tell me, young Catholic, what would your God say of lying?"

"I\'m not lying!"

"A half-truth then. You know he did say, \'The truth shall set you free.\' So tell me, beloved Rosa, what did you hope to get by coming here? What is it that really stoked in the depths of your heart at the prospect of meeting me again? What is your TRUEST DESIRE?

Do you seek to be corrupted by evil? To surrender yourself so wholly and passionately to the lust you have being denied all of your life? TELL ME, Catholic Girl, what impurity lurks even now within your beating heart. No one is here. Look at me, Rosa, and call me Dark Confessor."

Rosamunde finally met his eyes. Her gray iris were near black. She was seduced beyond saving grace. No sacrament could save her now. She tried an excuse.

"The other girls are just above. They could hear."

"Depends on what you have in mind. Either way, it doesn\'t matter." Rafel blinked his lava pools.

Rosamunde turned and walked up the stairs, but she didn\'t step a foot out. She lifted a hand and softly shut the loft door. As she was descending, she popped the fly of her dark pants and undid the zipper. She whispered, "I want you to be my sin. Just for tonight. JUST FOR TONIGHT."

She dropped her trousers and stepped out of them.

Rafel liked that her islandic heritage had blessed her with ample curves and a soft, firm bod.

She moved for him in her stringed shirt and black panties. He saw the need radiate in her eyes. He didn\'t need to ask what she wanted again.

She gave it up. "I want to sit on your face."

Rafel\'s cock was shot like a motherfucker out his brief. He could feel it hot, ready, and pulsing on his thigh. He slipped down on the bed so his back was flat. Rosa took the initiative and climbed into bed with him. She turned away, gave him her back and slowly lowered and spread her legs over his face.

"Smell my fucking ass."

She teased him with her big butt. Rafel kissed the plump globes and grabbed them. He put his face into her clapping cheeks and licked a line over her panties. "Ohh God—"

Rafel immediately drew back her hair. "There\'s no God here. Only I, Israfel, your devil." Rosa moaned as he jerked her panties to the side and smelled her ass. He spanked her with his other hand and spat in her butthole, and then the dipped in and drowned his tongue in the taste of her pussy. She was breathless, grabbing to his head as she felt—and heard him slurp her from cunt to ass.

"God, you\'re so filthy. I love you filthy. Ohhhh..."

Rafel tore his pants down and roughly bent her head down to his bobbing cock.

"Umbugffll," Rosa swallowed his nosh and took his dick in hard strokes.

Rafel gripped tight to her hair and pounded her face at his own pace. She was eager to give it and spread her thighs wider, smashing his face in her pussy. Their sixtynining was volcanic. The feel of her wet mouth was too much for Rafel.

"You like to suck devil dick, huh, Catholic Girl?" He spanked her hard.

"Uummmm." Rosa\'s reply was muffled in choking. He let her come up for air. "Ohh fuck!" Her eyes rounded at the bulging tower of his shaft. The veins alone, thick and slimy. Rafel slammed her head back down. He spanked her.

"Ride my face. Take your pleasure. It\'s what you\'ve always wanted, ain\'t it?"

PAH!

Another arse spank!

Rosa\'s hips were rolling hotly as she broke into a fever, and her back made a sultry dip and arc with her hips. She was leaking love juices.

PAH!

She broke, and began to spasm. Her voluptuous body claimed the release like a rush of Ayahuasca. She exploded into the stars, and for that moment of blinding ecstasy, believed she saw God. The irony of it—in coitus with a demon. Rafel didn\'t quit his slurping and she started to scream. He deftly dragged her head down to his pipe and shot his seed into her mouth.

It shut her up.

Rosa pumped his gleaming shaft with her little hands and took all he gave; in her face, in her hair, in her mouth. She made sure to milk it all, because she made up her mind to never give in again.

"No more."

Rosamunde found her chaplet and panties discarded over an attic broom. She picked both up.

She drew on her panties, and was thankful Rafel spared her the awkward after sex tirade. She made the walk of shame up the basement stairs. As the door shut quietly behind her, she softly muttered in embarrassment, "God, why did he have to taste so good."