The incubus deals with their archetypal complexes in the old fashioned way

THE INHERITANCE OF SIN

The scent of sandalwood coiled through Clemente's nostrils like a serpent, thick and cloying, filling his lungs with every **** breath. His fingers twitched against the arms of the chair, the leather creaking under the rich heir grip.

"Damn... I can almost smell the sexual tension between these two. Too bad I can't just break their minds, expensive toys need proper handling."

The air between his 'patients' crackled with tension—Talia's storm-grey eyes locked onto her stepson, her full lips parted just slightly, the young woman's chest rising in slow, deliberate breaths that made the black silk of her dress strain against her perky breasts.

Vasudeva's fingers brushed his temple again, colder this time, like the kiss of a blade before it sinks in.

"Let go," the hypnotist murmured, his low tenor weaving through Clemente's skull like smoke.

Clemente's eyelids fluttered.

No.

But his body betrayed him. The young man's muscles slackened, his resistance crumbling like wet paper. His mind drifted, untethered, floating in the hazy space between wakefulness and surrender.

Vasudeva turned to Talia, his crimson eyes gleaming with predatory satisfaction.

"You," he murmured, his fingers trailing down her arm, his touch electric, "have been starving."

Talia's breath hitched, her long lashes fluttering.

"Denying yourself," Vasudeva continued, his voice a velvet lullaby, "all that power. All that hunger."

Her luscious red lips parted, a soft, involuntary sound escaping her throat.

"Nnnghh!!"

Clemente watched, his thoughts muddy, the rich heir's pulse racing. His stepmother—no, his half-sister, though he didn't know that yet—looked like a painting come to life, the Russian beauty's pale skin flushed, raven hair spilling over her shoulders in dark waves.

Vasudeva's hand cupped Talia's cheek, his thumb brushing her lower lip.

"Tell me," he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper, "what do you want?"

Talia's storm-grey eyes flicked to Clemente, her voice barely audible.

"Him."

Clemente's stomach dropped.

Vasudeva smiled.

The Corruption

"Stand," Vasudeva commanded.

They obeyed.

Talia rose first, her movements liquid, her hips swaying as she stepped forward. The slit in her dress parted, revealing a sinful expanse of thigh, the sheer black stockings clinging to her long legs. Her storm-grey eyes locked onto Clemente's, her lips curling into a smirk.

Clemente stood slower, his body heavy with **** arousal. His cheap glasses slid down his nose slightly, and he pushed them back up with a trembling finger.

"Touch her," Vasudeva murmured.

Clemente's hands trembled at his sides.

Talia didn't wait. Her fingers wrapped around his wrists, her nails digging in just enough to make him gasp. She guided his hands to her waist, her breath warm against his lips.

"You," she whispered, her Russian accent thick, "have been thinking about this since the funeral."

Clemente flinched.

Vasudeva's voice slithered through the air like a serpent. "No more lies."

Clemente's fingers dug into Talia's hips, his control fraying.

She moaned, her body pressing against his, the heat of her searing through his clothes.

Vasudeva's hands settled on their shoulders, his presence pressing into them, melting their resistance.

"Kiss her," he commanded.

Clemente resisted—

—but Talia crushed her lips to his, her tongue plundering his mouth, her body melting against him.

Clemente groaned, his hands roaming, sliding up her back, tangling in her hair. His control shattered.

Vasudeva watched, his cock stirring beneath his robes.

Perfect.

The Union

Talia's dress pooled at her feet, revealing the sinful curves of her body—the swell of her breasts, the narrow taper of her waist, the generous flare of her hips. Her toned ass flexed as she stepped out of the fabric, her long legs gleaming in the dim light.

Clemente's breath stuttered.

Vasudeva's fingers traced the length of his spine, his voice a dark promise.

"Take her."

Clemente froze.

Talia smirked, her fingers undoing his belt, her nails scraping his abdomen.

"Afraid?" she taunted.

Clemente growled, his hands gripping her toned bubble butt, yanking the Russian beauty's slender body against him.

Talia gasped, her back arching, the pale vixen's tight pussy glistening.

Vasudeva's fingers dug into Clemente's shoulders, the albino's low tenor laced with power.

"Fuck her."