Daemonica Sexualis
They slip through the veil, and you are no longer alone in your skin. These stories chronicle intimate encounters with unseen forces; rituals invasions, and being claimed by entities. Enter if you dare. Not all pleasures are human.
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I feel him slide through the tightest spaces of my being. My hips rise to meet him. I gasp his name like it’s part of my breath.
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The way he looks at me like he already owns every secret inside me. The way I lean toward him like I’ve never stopped. We sip wine. We talk. We drift. We remember.
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I pause, lifting my leg slowly and draping it over the back of the couch, exposing the damp silk between my thighs.
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But Vaelvourin did not sleep. He watched the way moonlight played on her collarbones, the rise and fall of her chest. And when he stirred, it was not to leave, but to love her again.
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My body bowed instinctively. His energy wrapped around my waist, brushing against the inside of my thighs with the teasing patience of something ancient and knowing.
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The astral bends, and suddenly, he’s against me; solid, searing. His lips hover over mine.
The Osmosis of Flesh 