The Incubus Lesson (MM)

Incubus Contracts 2

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 36,944
6 Ratings (4.3)

[Siren Everlasting Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, shape-shifters, light consensual BDSM, HEA]

Remy Eschette has been a bad boy. So bad, in fact, that he's attracted the attention of a class A Incubus with sex and contracts on his mind. Remy’s soul is up for grabs, and Deacon steps in with an offer Remy is better off not refusing. He can become his Hell Hound, his live-in servant, in exchange for his life.

Deacon Anderson is an immortal Incubus with no idea what it takes to make a commitment. Unfortunately, taking on a Hell Hound is the biggest commitment of all. Avoidance is the only viable option. But when Remy refuses to sleep with him until Deacon helps him right the wrongs of his past, the Incubus is faced with spending more and more time with him.

Love brings redemption, but both struggle with their respective sordid pasts. Time will tell what sacrifices they have to make in order to find a loving relationship in the new bargains they strike.

A Siren Erotic Romance


Jana Downs is a Siren-exclusive author.

The Incubus Lesson (MM)
6 Ratings (4.3)

The Incubus Lesson (MM)

Incubus Contracts 2

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Scorching
Word Count: 36,944
6 Ratings (4.3)
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Cover Art by Sloan Winters



“Congratulations, douche bag. You’re dead,” a cheerful voice exclaimed. Remy blinked, realizing that he was upright and in a room that he wasn’t familiar with. “You always were a gambler. Tsk tsk. That gamble certainly didn’t pay off for you.” A violet-haired guy with starch white wings sat behind a massive black marble desk going through piles of manila folders. The entire room was done in the black-and-white color scheme. White walls, no art work, white bookshelves, black windows, black carpet. No doors. Weird.

“Huh?” he asked stupidly. His mind felt like it was coated in dryer lint. “What happened? Where the hell am I? Is this a hospital?” Why he would’ve needed a hospital was beyond him. As a Wolfen, his kind healed extraordinarily quickly and couldn’t be killed by much less than drowning, cutting out the heart, hacking off the head, or burning to ashes.

“This is not a hospital. In fact, this is the waiting room in Gehenna. The big guys haven’t decided where they’re throwing your ass yet, so you’re stuck with me, your representation in the heavens, until such time as they declare you officially dead and send you up or down.” The violet-haired angel smirked. “Though, I have a pretty good idea with your exploits which direction you’re going to be headed. Let me see.” He took off a manila folder from the top of the pile that had a little red tab on it. “Public drunkenness, cheating, disregard for other people’s emotions, disregard for your own emotions, repression of your own soul, destruction of innocence, the list goes on and on. Surprisingly little by the way of lust considering your, er, sexual conquests.” He shut the folder. “Pretty open and shut case from what I understand. You absolutely failed your soul test with your ex-boyfriend, whatever his name was. Chalk you up as another statistic for the dark side.”

Remy shook his head, still not processing. “Wait. What the hell are you saying? Representation in the heavens? Gehenna? What the hell is going on?” He was starting to get annoyed now. He did not like to be out of the loop, and he felt really, really out of the damn loop.

“Okay, he’s not as smart as he looks, folks,” the violet-haired guy muttered to the ceiling. He pointed to himself. “I am an angel. Your angel as matter of fact, not your guardian, that was some other guy, but an angel nonetheless. I am the angel that gets to argue in divine court for the right of your soul to go to the heavens. Every person has a divine match, one angel and one demon who has a perfect match for your soul. I’m your angel, and your demon is the guy on the other side of the argument. Consider me your lawyer appointed by the court. You slept through your trial, so they sent you here, to my office, to wait while they deliberate.” He thrummed through some papers on his desk and started scribbling on another piece of paper. “You, Remy, are dead. D-E-A-D. The higher ups are at this very moment arguing over whether to send you to heaven or hell.” He held up the paper showing a stick figure with little x’s for eyes.

Ice washed through his veins. “What the hell? How did this happen? They only knocked me on the head! Was it a robbery? How the hell am I dead?” He sounded hysterical, but he really couldn’t help himself. After all, it wasn’t every day that someone told him he was dead.

“The blow to the back of the head didn’t kill you. Unfortunately, the guys who robbed you dumped your unconscious body in the Mississippi after they took your wallet. Your body didn’t have enough time to heal before you drowned.” The angel did look at least mildly sympathetic then. “The beginning of your file really did show potential.” He shook his head. “It’s a shame you had to die so young. You were still classified as redeemable.”

Remy’s heart started to pound in a sickly rhythm. He needed to sit down. Immediately a seat appeared behind him, and he sank into the plush white couch gratefully. He also needed a drink. Preferably scotch. A glass appeared on the corner of the angel’s desk. He wasted no time in snatching it up and draining every last drop. Given enough time, he would’ve licked the bottom of the glass. It was a pleasant burn all the way down to his stomach.

“I had so much left to do.” He’d told himself a thousand times that he was going to turn his life around. He was going to stop the whoring and the drinking and the deliberate pain he caused. But he’d always put it off. Now it was too late. “I didn’t want to die an asshole.” He didn’t know where the last came from, but he meant it nonetheless.

“No one ever does, mate,” the angel said. Remy jumped as a phone started ringing. The angel sighed. “That will be the bosses. Can’t keep them waiting.” He turned his head to reveal a Bluetooth attached to his ear. “Hello? Oh hey, boss.” A pause. “Yeah, I figured as much. Yep.” He paused again. Frowned. “Really? One of theirs vouched for him? You don’t say. Well, that’s great news. Okay, I’ll ask him. Um-hmm. Call you right back. Bye.”

“Well, what’s the verdict?” Remy asked. He was shaking all over, unable to sit still. The anticipation more than anything was fucking killing him.

The angel offered him a smile that reminded Remy of a used cars salesman for some reason. “It was good news actually.”

“I get to go to heaven?” Remy asked. His heart soared. Someone had actually seen something in him worth sending to heaven for? He was going to kiss God’s toes.

“Not exactly.”




Deacon took three strides toward him and grabbed his hips, bringing their bodies flush together. “Yeah. I know. And you wouldn’t let me explain.”

“I was angry.”

“Was?” Deacon asked, grinding his now-raging erection against Remy’s jean-clad cock.

Remy groaned. “Yeah. I’ve cooled off a little since then.”

“I love you,” Deacon said, hugging him tightly. It just slipped out as if the words were as light as they made him feel. Light flashed, filling the room.

Remy shuddered in his arms, and Deacon tilted his head up into a kiss. “What have you done?” Remy whispered as their lips met.

Deacon let his eyes slide shut as his immortality left him. The flux of energy changed the light in the house from its natural form to a dull, rusty red. Their tongues touched, fought, danced. His heart swelled as the admission took up a physical rhythm in his chest. He felt weak as a kitten, but still he continued to kiss him. Remy’s hands dug into his shoulders, and for the first time, Deacon felt how strong he was. The Wolfen’s strength may have been nothing to him as an Incubus, but it was strikingly powerful in comparison to a human’s.

“I love you,” he said again, breaking their touch for the briefest of instances to say what he’d been holding back.

“I love you, too, Deacon. I didn’t think you would ever say it. What’s the light about?” Remy asked. He claimed his lips for another kiss, unwilling to tell him the extent of what he’d done.

This was usually the part where Dominic was summoned to deliver the news of freedom and administer a test to determine the worthiness of the pairing. He’d receive no summons. Deacon had already made other deals.

He ripped the clothing from his lover, uncaring of anything but having him one last time. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against his lips. “I’m sorry that I betrayed your trust.”

“As long as you love me, none of that matters,” Remy said, clinging to him. “I don’t care how we started so long as you care now.”

“I do.” He pressed kisses down his lover’s neck and chest, nibbling the nipples that were already pebbled for his attention before popping the button on Remy’s jeans and freeing the hard cock that was pressed against him the moment before.

Without preamble, Deacon sucked the thick head into his mouth. He groaned at the taste, reveling in the sweet and salty liquid that decorated the tip. He bobbed his head several times, and Remy cried out with each downward plunge. He must not have realized the change yet because he didn’t notice that his blow job wasn’t as magical as it had been when Deacon had been an Incubus.

“God, Deacon! I love you,” Remy gasped as Deacon nibbled the tip of his lover’s cock. The red light slowly faded as the magic completed itself. Deacon was mortal. This would be the first time he would make love as a human man. “Deacon, not gonna last. Stop. I want you inside.”

Those were the words he’d been longing to hear. He tore at his own shirt, trying to get out of the thing without the benefit of them melting away in a display of magic.

“Lemme help,” Remy rumbled, kneeling on the floor in front of him and taking the two ends his shirt in his hands. The sound of rending fabric lit the air as Remy tore it off of him. His pants suffered the same fate, and then they were rolling along the floor, kissing and touching all the exposed skin with no restraint.

“Lube?” Remy asked. Deacon snapped his fingers only to curse himself for his stupidity. He didn’t have the power to pull things through the walk between worlds anymore.

“It’s the bedroom. I’ll get it.” Deacon rolled to his feet and took off toward the stairs. He was going to have to start keeping spare bottles around the house. He nearly stumbled on the stair as he realized that after today he wouldn’t need to have anything anywhere. He wouldn’t live here anymore. It made everything that much more bittersweet.

He retrieved the slick and ran back down to the living room where Remy was lounging on the couch, idly stroking his cock. “Took you long enough. I want to ride you. You mind?”

“Not at all.” Deacon went to his knees on the soft rug before going to his back and popping the lid on the tube. He put a good amount on his own cock and tossed the rest to Remy. “Get yourself ready. I want you now.”

Remy did as he commanded, slicking his fingers before pressing them into his tight ring, stretching his entrance to prepare himself for Deacon’s cock.

“Do you forgive me, Remy?” Deacon asked, watching him as he did as Deacon asked. “Do you forgive me for taking your life away?”

Remy winked at him, his smile strained with lust. “Yeah. I forgive you. You’ll have to make it up to me though.”

“I will. I promise.”

Remy groaned and pulled his fingers free. “I’m ready. I can’t wait anymore.” He straddled his hips and lowered himself on Deacon’s waiting prick. The beautiful man above him had become his world, and Deacon was awed by him. This was the man he loved. The transition to mortality seemed to make even the beauty of the world more intense, sharper somehow.

His mind blanked as his cock was surrounded by his lover’s heat.


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