Vexi

Tapuck's hand closed around a thin wrist before the fingers could reach the jewel. The creature froze — small, compact, crimson hair and wide red eyes that went even wider as she looked up at him. Her heart-tipped tail went rigid.

She was a predator. He knew it the instant he saw the curled horns, the warm reddish undertone of her skin, the faint taste of stolen power in the air. But she was also the least threatening thing he'd ever caught — trembling limbs, shallow breaths, a rabbit in a wolf's den.

He tightened his grip. She whimpered.

"Wait — please!" The words spilled out in a rush, her free hand clutching at his arm not to fight but to plead. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't hurt me."

Tapuck stared down at her. "You were stealing from me."

"I know! I know I was. I'm stupid, I'm pathetic, I know." Tears welled in her red eyes, genuine in a way he wasn't used to. Her tail wrapped around her own leg. "A group of succubi sent me. They wanted the jewel. I was supposed to take it without getting caught — it was a test."

"A test?"

"To prove myself." Her voice cracked. "I've failed them so many times. I'm too weak. I can't do anything right. This was my last chance and now I've ruined that too." She sank to her knees. "Please. I'll tell you anything. Just don't kill me."

Tapuck studied her for a long moment, then pulled a map from his desk and spread it flat. "Show me."

She scrambled to her feet, still shaking, and leaned over the map. Her finger traced a route through the eastern pass. "Veraxia's coven — that's who sent me. There are seven of them. They operate out of..." Her free hand brushed his arm as she reached across the map to point, and the contact sent something through him — warm, pleasant, lingering.

He liked it more than he expected. That bothered him enough to act. "Stop."

She snatched her hand back like she'd touched fire. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean — I just —"

"The touching. Don't."

She nodded frantically, tail trembling. "Of course. I'm sorry. I'll keep my hands to myself." Her voice dropped to a mutter. "Stupid. Can't even point right."

She continued laying out the coven's territory, her voice steadier now. They held the canyon mouths. They rotated watch positions every third night. Veraxia never left the inner chamber.

Her hand found his arm again while describing the eastern approach — lighter this time, almost absent-minded. Tapuck opened his mouth to stop her, then didn't. The warmth spread up his shoulder, pleasant and undemanding. She was just a weak little thing. What could it hurt?

Her tail gave a small, involuntary flick. Her fingers lingered a half-second longer than necessary before she pulled back to point at something else on the map.

"Veraxia's personal chambers are here," she said, and he almost missed it because he'd been thinking about how her hand had felt.

Her palm rested against his chest now, fingers splayed. Tapuck caught her wrist and pulled it away. "What are you doing?"

She flinched, her face crumpling. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just — I'm so hungry." The words came out small and miserable. "I haven't fed in weeks. I'm so weak I can barely think. I just needed... something. Anything."

"Not from me."

"I know. I know, you're right." She wrapped her arms around herself, tail drooping. Then her eyes flicked to the map. "I have more information. Things you'd want to know. Things about Veraxia — her patterns, her weakness."

Tapuck waited.

"In exchange for just a little energy." She held up her hands, placating. "A tiny amount. You wouldn't even notice it. I'm so weak — what could I possibly take?"

He considered her. The trembling. The desperate eyes. The tail curled tight around her ankle. "Only a little."

She brightened like a sunrise. "Thank you. Thank you."

Her hands returned to his arm, then his shoulder, then his chest — each touch carrying that warm, pleasant drain. Tapuck fired off questions, trying to keep the exchange clinical.

"Veraxia's second-in-command. Name?"

"Kalyss." Her fingers traced down his forearm. "They don't get along. Kalyss thinks Veraxia is too cautious."

"How many thralls does the coven hold?"

"Twelve, maybe thirteen." Her palm pressed flat against his chest, right over his heart. She was closer now, looking up at him with those wide red eyes. "Most are stationed in the outer chambers. Veraxia keeps two personal ones."

The information was good. Damn good. Tapuck tried not to think about how her touch was making it hard to focus. "What's their patrol weakness?"

Her hand slid to the back of his neck, and the question nearly died in his throat.

"Their patrols shift —" she started, then stopped, tilting her head. "This next piece is worth more. Can I...?" She opened her arms, tentative.

Tapuck knew what she was asking. The deal was escalating, just like he'd agreed to. He gave a short nod.

She stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his chest, pressing her small body against his. The warmth was immediate and deeper than before — flowing through his clothes, his skin, settling somewhere beneath his ribs. The drain was noticeable now, a steady pull that left a pleasant ache behind.

"They shift at midnight and dawn," she murmured against his shoulder. "Twenty-minute gap between rotations. The western approach goes unguarded."

His voice came out rougher than he intended. "What about Veraxia's weakness?"

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, a flicker of something new in her expression. "That's going to cost more."

Before he could answer, she climbed onto his lap. Her legs settled on either side of his hips, her weight warm and deliberate against him. Her hands rested on his shoulders like she'd been doing this forever.

"What are you —"

"I'm giving you what you paid for." And then she started to move. A slow roll of her hips, barely perceptible at first, but steady. Grinding against him with the same casual rhythm she'd used pointing at the map.

Tapuck's hands found her waist — to stop her, he told himself. They stayed there. "Veraxia's weakness."

"She's vain." Grind. "Obsessed with her reflection." Grind. "The inner chamber has a mirror wall — she stares at herself for hours." Her tail curled behind her, the heart tip twitching. Tapuck's question died somewhere between his brain and his mouth.

Her grinding slowed, and her hand slipped down between them. Tapuck's breath caught as her fingers wrapped around him through his pants.

"The next piece of information..." she said, stroking slowly, "is the one you really want. Where Veraxia will be. When. And why she needs that jewel."

He tried to form words. Her hand kept moving. "What's the price?"

"Just a moment inside me." She said it sweetly, almost shy. A blush crept across her warm cheeks. "That's all. One moment. You can even stop after if you want."

He should say no. He knew he should say no. But her hand was so warm, so steady, stroking him through the fabric while her red eyes held his. "Are you sure you want to keep going?" she asked, and her voice had a new edge — teasing, almost playful. "This could get dangerous..."

Tapuck's hips pressed up into her palm. "Tell me what you know."

"Deal first."

"Fine." The word came out ragged. "Deal."

She shifted her clothes aside with practiced ease and lowered herself onto him in one fluid motion. The heat of her drew a groan from Tapuck's throat — louder than he meant, more desperate than he wanted.

"The jewel..." she breathed, rolling her hips, "is a focus stone." Each word came between slow, deliberate movements. "Veraxia needs it for... mmm... a desire amplification ritual."

Tapuck's hands gripped her hips. "When?"

"Three nights from now." She tightened around him and his question dissolved into a moan. "At the convergence... of the canyon streams..."

She was being coy now, her answers trailing off, her rhythm never quite letting him think. Every time he opened his mouth she moved in a way that scattered his thoughts. The drain was massive now — he could feel it pulling through his cock, a river of energy flowing into her with every stroke.

"She'll be alone," the imp continued, her voice steadier now, almost conversational. "The ritual requires isolation. No thralls. No guards. Just her, the jewel, and the mirror."

Tapuck forced his mind through the haze of pleasure. "So I can reach her."

"You can." She smiled down at him — and there was something different in it now. Something that cut through the fog. "That's everything you wanted to know."

He blinked, reorienting. "Right. Then let's stop. Before this goes too far."

He moved to lift her off him. Her thighs clamped tight and he went nowhere.

"But I don't want to stop." Her smile widened. "I want more."

Tapuck tried again to push her off. His hands met iron. "What —"

"Oh, didn't you feel it this whole time?" She leaned in close, inches from his face, and her red eyes weren't wide with fear anymore. They were bright with triumph. "I'm stronger than you now."

He strained against her. Nothing. The small creature who'd been trembling on his floor minutes ago now held him pinned with casual ease.

"You were so busy enjoying yourself..." She clicked her tongue. "Every touch, every grind, every —" she clenched around him and he gasped — "stroke. I've been taking and taking and you just kept giving."

She laughed — a real laugh, nothing like the pathetic whimper from before. "The begging was real, you know. I really was terrified of you. But then you made it so easy."

She kept riding him. There was nothing he could do to stop it — her strength far exceeded his now, her small thighs locked in place like steel bands. But the worst part, the part that made his face burn with shame, was how good it felt.

"Look at you." She cupped his chin and forced him to meet her eyes. "Scared and aroused at the same time. That's my favorite combination."

His body arched into her against his will, pleasure coiling tighter with every roll of her hips. She was drinking him in — he could feel the energy flowing out of him, feeding her, making her glow. Her crimson hair seemed brighter now. Her eyes burned.

"You're shaking," she observed, delighted. "Is it fear? Is it the orgasm building? I think it's both." She leaned close and licked a line up his neck — quick, impish, tasting him. "Mmm. You're delicious when you're helpless."

The climax hit him like a wave — overwhelming, humiliating, unstoppable. He spilled into her with a sound somewhere between a moan and a sob, and she took all of it. Every drop of energy, every spark of power he had.

She threw her head back, eyes fluttering closed, and for a moment the lantern light seemed to bend toward her — drawn into her skin, her hair, the tips of her horns. She was radiant. Glowing with stolen power, vibrating with it, a creature who had been starving her entire life and had just eaten her first real meal.

"Oh..." she breathed, sliding off him and rising to her feet. Her legs were unsteady — not from weakness, but from the sheer newness of being full. She looked at her own hands like she'd never seen them before. "So this is what it feels like."

Tapuck slumped in his chair, drained, panting.

She didn't leave. Instead she wandered his office like she'd just inherited it, trailing her fingers over his bookshelf, his maps, his desk. She picked up the jewel — the one she'd tried to steal — and slipped it into a pocket with a satisfied little hum.

His jacket hung over the back of a chair. She pulled it on, the sleeves swallowing her arms past the fingertips. She rolled them up with deliberate, theatrical care, then moved to his desk and poured herself a drink from his cup.

"You know what's funny?" she said, settling into his chair and propping her boots on his desk. Her tail curled contentedly around the armrest. "I came here tonight expecting to fail. Again. The way I always fail." She took a sip. "But you — you were different. You actually listened to me. Trusted me. You're kind of fun."

She tilted her head, catching him still watching her from where she'd left him. Still there. Still awake. Still looking.

A slow smile spread across her face. "You're still watching me."

She extended a hand toward him and flexed her fingers experimentally. Tapuck felt something tug at his mind — not pain, not resistance, just a gentle pull that made his thoughts feel slippery and distant. She was testing something. Playing with her new power.

"Get up," she said.

His legs moved before he could think about it. He rose from the chair, muscles screaming in protest, every part of him exhausted. But the pull was irresistible — her will wrapping around his like silk around a stone.

"Walk to me."

He took a step. Then another. Each one made her smile wider, her tail flicking behind her with undisguised glee. "Look at you. You can barely stand and you're still walking toward me. You know why?" She leaned forward in his own chair, wearing his own jacket, grinning with his own stolen power. "Because you want me so badly it hurts. And I haven't even tried yet."

He stopped in front of her, heart pounding, mind blank. She reached up and took his hand. "Come on. Your bed. Let me show you what real power looks like."

She led him to his own bed and lay back against his pillows, still wearing his jacket. The fabric pooled around her small frame, sleeves still too long, collar riding up against her crimson hair. She looked up at him with a lazy, confident smile.

"Give me the last of your power in your own bed." She spread her legs. "While I dirty your jacket."

He climbed over her. He didn't choose to — his body simply obeyed the command woven into her words. She guided him inside her with one hand and wrapped her legs around his waist with the other, pulling him deep.

"That's it," she murmured, rocking up to meet him. "All that power you were going to use against Veraxia. All those plans. All that confidence. Give it to me instead."

Tapuck moved inside her, helpless and hard and humiliated. Every thrust pulled more energy out of him, each one slower and weaker than the last. She watched his face the entire time — cataloguing his expressions, his moans, the way his eyes fluttered when he couldn't hold them open anymore.

"That's it. All of it." Her voice was a whisper now, right against his ear as his rhythm faltered. "Every last drop."

The orgasm tore through him — weaker than the first, more desperate, like his body was giving up something it didn't have left to give. She drank it in, her tail curling tight around his calf, her small body arching beneath him with a satisfied sigh.

Tapuck's arms gave out. He collapsed beside her, his vision swimming, his limbs made of lead. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was her — propped on one elbow, wearing his jacket, looking down at him with the same expression she'd worn when he first caught her. But it wasn't fear in her eyes anymore.

"Don't worry," she said, her voice floating somewhere above him. "I'll be here when you wake up. After all..." She settled deeper into his pillows, tugging his jacket tighter around herself. "This is my home now."