The crimson light bounces off every wall. No matter where you look, it feels like you've been dropped into a small room. Your body lies on a crimson bed that looks almost royal, and heavy curtains the same color wrap around you, sealing off the rest of the world. Something moves behind them, slow steps closing in from the other side.
A silhouette glides through the fabric, unmistakably humanoid. Blessed curves sway with each step, shifting from side to side as she approaches.
Your heart races wildly, knocking against your ribs as if it's trying to break free and reach her first.
All of your previous confidence vanishes. The thought of losing your virginity makes you feel like you have to perform at your absolute best. Would it even count if it's a dream? Nah, fuck that thought. I can brag for life knowing I lost my first to a succubus.
You draw in a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but your wrists won't move. A gentle cloth pins them down anyway, soft against your skin, yet tight enough to remind you that struggling is pointless.
"Nn… ngh." A breathy sound slips from behind the curtain, followed by a slow inhale that makes your pulse jump. "That smell… ahh… yes…"
The silhouette vanishes like smoke.
A low laugh blooms right against your ear, warm as breath, and something silky drags along your neck, slow and deliberate. Your body freezes the instant a naked weight settles over you.
Soft breasts press into your chest, and plum lips kiss your throat as if she's tasting you, not teasing you. Black hair spills across your face, feather-light and fragrant, and your head spins as heat floods places you didn't even know could burn.
"So delicious… mmn." Her voice melts into a satisfied little moan, words breaking between breaths. "So fragrant. This body… yes… nnngh…" Another inhale, deeper, greedy. "My devil… this man carries seed." A soft laugh follows, pleased and possessive. "How lucky."
Her voice turns melodic, almost high with amusement. Fingers toy with your skin, tracing slow lines along your thigh, deliberately avoiding your exposed cock. It stands there like a soldier at attention, waiting for permission, waiting for her to finally give the order.
"What's wrong, honey, did the cat bite your tongue?" Her melodic laugh brushes your ear, hot breath slipping into it in a slow, teasing stream. "I can smell it. You're still fresh, still ripe like juicy fruit." She draws the words out, savoring them. "Let me take care of you tonight. Let this big sister claim your… first… time."
The tiny pauses she slips between those words draw the final line for you. Fire blooms in your chest, and your hips jerk on their own, the restraints suddenly feeling ten times tighter.
"Let me bring heaven to you," you whisper back, voice rough. You twist against the bindings, not to run, but just to get close enough to wrap your arms around her, to feel that soft body properly. Your heart demands it.
"Relax." Her hot breath brushes your neck as she drifts lower, unhurried. A tongue red as a strawberry, wet with lust, drags up your throat in a slow line, from the base to your chin. "Delicious." Her arms slip around your neck, gentle but sure, lifting your head as plush plum lips brush yours.
You lean in to kiss her properly, but she pulls back at the last second, smiling like she's enjoying your need.
"Why?" she purrs. "What do you want?"
Lust flares into something sharper in your chest. Only now do you realize how much you hate the teasing, how much you hate not being the one in control.
"Keep teasing and I'll start thinking you don't know what to do with a man." Your lips curl into a cheeky smile, and it draws a satisfied purr from her.
"How cocky… fine." She leans in closer. Her lips press to yours, and her eyes hold you in a deep, steady stare. "Let me show you how I handle bad boys like you." She speaks right against your mouth, and you feel every letter vibrate into your lips.
Her body shifts. Something wet and warm settles on your stomach, close enough to make your crotch ache for her, but not daring to lower itself where you're begging her to be.
Moist lips claim yours again, gentle at first, then quickly sharpening into something hungrier. You don't fight it. You try to follow, awkwardly at first, and the way her mouth curves tells you she notices. Still, this seductress stays quiet, as if she refuses to ruin the moment with a single unnecessary sound.
Then her tongue slides in, slow and confident, finding yours without hesitation.
The kiss deepens like a door being shut behind you. Warmth floods your mouth, your breath turning messy, stolen between slow pulls and sharper bites that make your pulse jump. She tastes you like she's memorizing you, and the more you try to match her, the more she takes, setting the pace as if your body belongs to her already.
Your wrists strain against the cloth again, desperately craving to pull her closer, to stop feeling her through distance and start feeling her properly. Her eyes notice your movements.
A quiet sound vibrates into your lips, pleased, almost amused, and she breaks the kiss just long enough to let you breathe. Her forehead brushes yours, her hair spilling like a curtain across your cheek, and her eyes stay locked on yours as if she's waiting for you to say something stupid.
And yet, you don't.
Instead, you lunge for her mouth again, and this time you stop being careful. Your lips catch hers with a hungry insistence, anger and want tangled together, and she accepts it with a soft, satisfied tilt of her head. The kiss turns rougher, hotter, the kind that leaves your mouth swollen and your thoughts stripped down to a single need.
She pulls away by a hair's breadth, just enough to make you chase.
"Bad boy," she murmurs, the words brushing your lips like a promise instead of a warning.
Then she kisses you again, deeper than before, and the room seems to tighten around you. The crimson air feels thicker, warmer, and every breath you drag in carries her, sweet and dangerous, like you're inhaling sin.
Your hips buck under her without permission, your body reacting faster than your pride can keep up with. She breaks the kiss to press her mouth along your jaw, slow kisses that burn instead of soothe, and when she returns to your lips, she takes them like she's claiming something that was always meant to be hers.
You can't tell where her laughter ends and your breath begins.
All you know is that you've stopped thinking about winning, and started thinking about surviving her.
Slowly but surely, the wet heat on your belly slides lower and lower until it finally presses against your erect cock.
"Just say it, and I'll grant you your wish." She purrs the words into your mouth while her tongue toys with yours, and that warm, dangerous wetness keeps rubbing you like it's testing how long you can hold back.