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I feel a jolt of electricity as my palms make contact with her skin, the warmth of her body radiating up my arms. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my senses on high alert as I try to process what’s happening. “I lack the ability to create a succubus. Her nipples harden further beneath my touch, and she lets out a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering closed. I pick up the glass and take a sip, the burn of the whiskey spreading through my chest. The music pulsates around us, but I’m lost in the sensation of her skin beneath my hands. As she stands, her body begins to shift and contort and her skin turns a dull grey. “First and foremost, yes, I am a succubus and no, I’m not going to eat you. “That’s better,” the redhead says.