Strongest Incubus System

Damon lay on his back, his arms relaxed, his eyes fixed on the stone ceiling while his mind still tried to process what his body had already experienced. There was a slight, pleasant tiredness in his muscles, the kind that didn’t come from battle or training... but from something far more chaotic, intense, and, honestly, unexpected.

”Madness...” he murmured to himself, a low laugh escaping before he could contain it.

Lily slept on his chest, completely naked, her warm body nestled as if this were the most natural place in the world. Her breathing was slow and deep, her features soft, almost innocent. If someone saw her like this, they would never imagine the voracious and confident woman who had been there minutes before, dominating every second with a disconcerting mixture of desire and choice.

Damon looked away from the ceiling and lowered his gaze to her.

”You don’t look anything like the same person...” he commented in a low voice, more to himself than to her.

He carefully raised his hand and began to stroke her white hair, running his fingers slowly through the soft strands. The gesture was automatic, almost protective. Lily stirred slightly, letting out a small sleepy sound, her face nestling even closer against his chest.

Her eyes opened slowly, lazily, still heavy with sleep. When she realized where she was, a slow smile appeared on her lips.

Damon returned the smile.

”You’re quite greedy,” he commented, his tone clearly amused. ”Did you eat well?”

Lily let out a low, sleepy, hoarse giggle, lifting her head slightly to look at him. Her eyes shone with a satisfied, almost triumphant, humor.

”Very well,” she replied, resting her chin on his chest. ”Sex is much better than feeding on emotions just to survive.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if savoring her own conclusion.

”It’s the best meal there is.”

Damon laughed genuinely this time, his chest heaving beneath her.

”I’ll have to be careful then,” he said. ”The way you talk, it sounds like I’ve become your favorite dish.”

Lily opened one eye, staring at him with a slow, dangerous smile.

”Maybe you have.”

”I don’t want you to go...” she murmured, her voice low and soft, still heavy with sleep. ”It’s warm here. Safe. And you’re comfortable.”

Damon let out a low, relaxed laugh, placing his hand on her back and giving her a slow, almost lazy caress.

”I’ll take that as a great compliment,” he said. ”But unfortunately, I work in a mansion that doesn’t maintain itself.”

Lily made a small sound of protest, tightening her embrace for a second longer.

”Hmph... people and their obligations,” she grumbled, without opening her eyes.

”Unfortunately, that’s adult life,” he replied, amused. ”And I’d rather not find out what happens when I’m absent.”

She lifted her face just enough to look at him, her eyes half-closed, clearly annoyed.

”You promise you’ll come back?”

”I promise,” Damon said without hesitation. ”Tonight. No mystery.”

Her expression softened immediately. Lily relaxed against him again, a small, satisfied smile returning to her lips.

”Then it’s alright,” she replied. ”I’ll wait.”

She hugged him once more, this time without force, just presence. Damon stayed there for a few seconds, letting the moment linger, before taking a deep breath—already accepting that this succubus had become, completely unexpectedly, a part of his day.

Damon finished dressing in silence, careful not to wake Lily again. She had turned to her side, hugging the pillow, her white hair spread across the sheet like freshly fallen snow. For a moment, he hesitated—not out of guilt, exactly, but because of that strange feeling of having crossed an invisible line and not yet knowing where it led.

He straightened his shirt, took a deep breath, and left the room, closing the door carefully.

The hallway was too quiet.

It was only after taking two steps that he felt it.

The pressure in the air. The kind of tension that made instincts scream even before the brain could process it.

Damon looked up.

Aria was standing a few feet from him, leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed, one leg casually propped up. Her face was too serene. Dangerously serene. Her eyes, however, said something else with crystal clarity:

I’m going to kill you. You better run.

Damon’s body froze for a fraction of a second.

Then, like a good survivor, he smiled.

”Good morning to you too,” he said, his tone too calm for someone caught red-handed.

Aria slowly uncrossed her arms and took a step forward. The sound of her boots echoed down the hallway like a warning.

”Did you sleep well?” she asked, her voice too soft to be innocent. ”Or rather... was it good spending the night with another woman?”

Damon’s smile stiffened slightly.

”I-it doesn’t have to be like this, right?” he commented, raising his hands in a soothing gesture. ”We can talk like rational adults.”

Aria tilted her head slightly.

”We can,” she said. ”But I don’t feel like it.”

The next instant, she lunged forward.

Damon barely had time to react before feeling her hand grab the collar of his shirt and pull him hard enough to lift him off the floor. He let out a surprised sound as he was dragged down the hallway, his feet stumbling to keep up with her pace.

”Hey, hey, hey—!” he tried to protest. ”Aria, calm down! Where are we going?”

She didn’t slow her pace.

”You’re going to reward me,” she replied, her voice deeper, laden with something definitely not human. ”And I’ll decide how.”

There was something about her at that moment that wasn’t just jealousy. It was possessiveness. Wounded pride. Desire mixed with irritation. An explosive combination.

They turned down a side corridor, then another, moving away from the busier areas of the mansion. The expensive carpets gave way to ancient stones, the torches attached to the walls casting elongated shadows that danced with their movements.

Damon tried to regain some control of the situation.

”Look, if this is about Lily—”

Aria stopped abruptly.

The impact made Damon bump lightly against the wall behind him. She moved closer, trapping him between her own body and the cold stone. Her gaze was different now. More intense. More ancient.

”Don’t you dare say her name as if that explains anything,” she growled under her breath.

He swallowed hard.

”Right. Forbidden name. Noted.”

For a second, it seemed like she was really going to break something—maybe his neck. But then Aria took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and... smiled.

It wasn’t a gentle smile.

”Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” she asked.

”Did I survive the night?” he ventured.

She let out a short, humorless laugh.

”Did you really think you could walk out of that room, across that hallway... and nothing would happen?”

Damon opened his mouth to reply, but she suddenly let go of him—only to push him again, now guiding him toward a heavy, dark wooden door.

”Go in,” she ordered.

He obeyed. Not because he wanted to, but because he had learned throughout his life that contradicting Aria when she spoke like that was statistically a terrible idea.

The room was spacious, dimly lit. It didn’t seem like an ordinary bedroom. It was more... personal. There were weapons neatly arranged on the walls, old books, sturdy furniture. The air there carried her presence.

The door closed behind them with a dry click.

Silence.

Aria turned slowly.

”You know what irritates me the most?” she asked, walking in slow circles around him. ”It’s not the fact that you slept with someone else.”

Damon raised an eyebrow, surprised.

”No?”

”No.” She stopped in front of him. ”It’s you thinking that this wouldn’t have consequences.”

She raised her hand and touched his chest, right where his heart was beating a little faster now.

”You mess with things you don’t fully understand,” she continued. ”Desires. Bonds. Expectations.”

”I never promised exclusivity,” he retorted carefully.

Aria smiled slightly.

”No. But you promised presence.”

The silence that followed was heavy.

Damon took a deep breath.

”Aria... if this is about what you feel—”

”It’s about what you owe me,” she interrupted, moving even closer. ”You spent the night satisfying the hunger of a succubus.”

She tilted her face until it was dangerously close to his.

”Now it’s my turn to collect.”

Her tone wasn’t explicit, but it left no room for doubt: that ”reward” wasn’t gold, nor political favors, nor empty words.

It was something more personal.

Damon felt a shiver run down his spine—not just from fear, but from a clear awareness that he was entering emotionally unstable territory.

”What if I say no?” he asked, almost defiantly.

Aria watched him for a long moment.

Then, surprisingly, she took a step back.

”Then I respect that” she said. ”But you’ll have to deal with the fact that I won’t forget.”

She crossed her arms.

”So think carefully before you answer.”

Time seemed to stretch.

Damon closed his eyes for a second, assessing everything: the previous night, the strange bond with Lily, Aria’s constant presence in his life, the way everything was intertwining in a dangerous way.

When he opened his eyes again, there was a decision there.

”I’m not going to run from the consequences,” he said. ”But I’m not going to be punished for existing either.”

Aria stared at him, surprised.

Then, slowly, her smile changed.

”Interesting,” she murmured. ”Very interesting.”