The incubus plays with Annika's mind

The Brother’s Return – A Siberian Milf’s Twisted Reunion

The Walk Home – A Hypnotic Rebirth of Memories

The streets of Turin were quiet, bathed in the orange glow of flickering lamplights as Annika stumbled slightly, her thighs still slick with Stefano’s seed, her mind foggy with the remnants of pleasure and confusion.

What had happened back at the bar?

She remembered Pyotr—no, not Pyotr, someone else—his hands on her, his cock inside her, the way her body had betrayed her, arching into every touch like a bitch in heat.

But the memory was already slipping, fraying at the edges, dissolving into something softer, something safe.

A hand caught her elbow, steadying her.

"Careful, sestra," a deep voice murmured.

Annika turned, her breath catching as she took in the man beside her—tall, broad-shouldered, with golden eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.

And yet…

Why did he feel so familiar?

"Do I… know you?" she whispered, her Russian accent thickening with uncertainty.

Stefano smiled, his fingers tightening just slightly around her arm as the Osiris ring pulsed against his skin.

"Of course you do," he said, his voice layered with hypnotic resonance. "I’m your brother. Mikhail."

Annika’s brow furrowed.

Mikhail.

The name echoed in her skull, bouncing through hollowed-out chambers of memory, finding purchase in the soft, malleable clay of her subconscious.

"M-Mikhail?"

"Yes," Stefano murmured, stepping closer, his free hand brushing a strand of platinum hair from her face. "You remember, don’t you? How we used to play in the snow? How you’d sneak into my bed when the storms got too loud?"

Annika’s lips parted.

A flicker of something—warmth, nostalgia, a forbidden thrill—passed through her.

"I…"

The ring flared.

Her pupils dilated.

"I missed you," she breathed, the words tumbling out before she could stop them.

Stefano’s grin was predatory.

"Let’s go home, sestra."

The Apartment – A Brother’s Welcome

Annika’s apartment was small but cozy, the scent of vanilla and vodka lingering in the air. She fumbled with the keys, her fingers trembling—from the cold, she told herself, just the cold—before finally pushing the door open.

Stefano followed her inside, his gaze sweeping over the framed photos on the wall—Annika and Pyotr, smiling, frozen in happier times.

A shame to ruin such a perfect family.

"You live alone now?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Annika nodded, shrugging off her coat, revealing the curve of her hips, the swell of her ass in that sinful skirt.

"Pyotr is at university," she said, then hesitated. "You… you remember him, don’t you?"

Stefano stepped closer, his fingers trailing up her spine, making her shiver.

"How could I forget my nephew?" he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "But tonight… tonight is just for us."

Annika’s breath hitched.

"Mikhail, I—"

"Shhh," Stefano whispered, his hands settling on her hips, pulling her back against him. "No more talking."

She could feel him—hard, thick, wrong—pressing against her ass.

Her pulse spiked.

The blonde barista's neglected cunt throbbed.

And then—

—his fingers were inside her skirt, dipping between the fat assed milf's thighs, finding her bare, soaked, aching.

"N-No—"

"You’re dripping, sestra," Stefano growled, his teeth scraping her neck. "Did you miss me this much?"

Annika whimpered, her body arching into his touch, her mind splintering between resistance and ravenous need.

"This is… wrong—"

"No," Stefano corrected, his fingers curling, stroking that sweet spot inside her. "It’s perfect."

She came with a broken cry, her knees buckling, her back pressing into his chest as pleasure wracked her body.

Stefano laughed, low and dark, his free hand gripping her throat, tilting her head back to meet his gaze.

"And that was just the beginning."

The Bedroom – A Brother’s Claim

He carried her to the bedroom, her legs wrapped around his waist, her lips **** against his neck, her mind fractured between horror and hunger.

"Mikhail, please—"

"Please what?" Stefano purred, tossing her onto the bed, his hands ripping her blouse open, buttons scattering across the floor. "Tell me what you want."

Annika’s breath came in shallow gasps as his palms cupped her heavy tits, his thumbs flicking over her nipples, making her jolt, her back arching off the mattress.

"I… I can’t—"

"You can," Stefano snarled, his fingers pinching, twisting, his mouth descending to suck a bruise into her pale flesh. "You will."

The ring flared.

Annika’s vision whited out.

And then—

—she was spread beneath him, her thighs **** apart, her skirt hiked up, her pussy exposed, glistening, begging for his cock.

Stefano growled, his hands kneading her ass, his fingers digging into the plush flesh as he aligned himself, the thick head of his cock teasing her entrance.

"Look at me, sestra," he commanded.

Her eyes snapped to his.

"This is what you need," he murmured, his voice laced with power. "This is what you’ve always needed."

And then—

—he thrust.

Annika screamed, her body stretching, burning, her cunt clenching around his monstrous girth as he buried himself to the hilt in a single stroke.

"F-Fuck—!"

"Yes," Stefano hissed, his hips snapping forward, his cock pounding into her with brutal precision. "That’s it. Take me."

She sobbed, her nails scrabbling at the sheets, her body betraying her as pleasure erupted through her veins, her pussy milking him, her womb aching for his seed.

"M-Mikhail—!"

"Say it again," he demanded, his pace turning vicious, his balls slapping against her ass. "Say my name when you come."

Annika shattered, her back arching, her cunt flooding as she screamed his name—

—just as Stefano roared, his cock pulsing, his cum boiling into her, filling her, claiming her.

The Aftermath – A ****’s New Reality

Stefano pulled out slowly, watching his seed drip from her well-used hole, her thighs trembling, her stomach rounded from the sheer volume.

He traced a claw over her lower abdomen, the ring’s power marking the blonde slut with the incubus' dark sigil again.

"You’ll remember this," he murmured, his deep baritone layered with hypnosis. "But only as a blissful haze, deep in your **** mind."

Annika’s eyes fluttered shut, her mind sealing the memory away—leaving only the ache, the need, the hunger for more.

Stefano stepped back, his body reshaping into his true form, his wings unfurling as he vanished into the night.

The hunt wasn’t over.

It had only just begun