Hook and yarn in hand, Nieema cackled at her cousin’s bullshit. With family living so close, it was normal for her house to be packed. Kids, grandchildren, cousins, extended family, and friends were always welcome. It’d be a cold day hell before she closed her doors. They were unlocked for anyone she loved or cherished. Food, a bed, or support. Being there for her people, whether strangers or not, was important.
She found room to love everyone who walked into her life. But family? That blood? The familiarity and bond were untouchable.
And for vampire kind, community was scarce but sacred. A tight-knit coven was uncommon. Nieema was thankful for her father and his insistence on sticking together.
Oftentimes, fledglings were left to fend for themselves or sired far too soon. As a result, they were quick to depart from their sire or family. And some of them got lost along the way.
Nieema found the ones she could and offered them a home. Some were excited, others refused, a few poor souls cried in thanks, and a handful wanted nothing to do with covens or her.
But it was this need for community that brought them together.
Gathering at Nieema’s house for food, dance, and fun had become tradition. Every moon cycle folks’ from both the coven and the town showed up ready to partake.
Not every full moon function was met with her hospitality or presence.
Blue moons were for celebration and camaraderie. Hunter’s moon was for reconnecting with their vampire roots and spending time with the coven. Pink moons? Well, Nieema used her for love. Twelve hours in the dungeon. No air or sleep, just pure, undiluted magic.
True love at its finest.
Thinking of her ol’ man, she smiled.
“Girl, don’t piss me off!” Loretta shouted. “Nimmy, we out here having a good time. Don’t be doing allat.”
“What you mean?” Nieema giggled, playing her hook the mind Loretta wanted. “I’m good. Who winning?”
“Me! And you know that already.” Monroe cocked his head and pointed at Loretta. “You can not see me in Spades, heffa. The only way you finna win is if you cheat.”
Nieema laughed as them two started bickering. Loretta wasn’t to be played with as a blacksmith. She was built for battle and knew how to wield any blade. At six-two, three-eighty, she had height and weight on deck.
Though most let her brown eyes, long lashes, and doll-like features fool them. She was soft but mean as a mama badger. Two sides of a coin. Loretta balanced both effortlessly. She was a lover who also loved to tussle.
“If y’all are about to start hollering, take that shit outside!” Mace yelled over the din of old school RnB and cussing.
They were a loud and heavy-handed bunch. Out back, on the patio, Nieema lounged, crocheting yet another scarf for Tre. The man wanted a new one every single full moon. It was a task Nieema committed to with gladness.
Everybody was happy doing something. They erupted in laughter and heated discussions.
A boisterous group mingled around the grill, where Uncle Charlee burned the hot dogs.
The kids played tag yards away, and family was talking about throwing hands at the card table. Monroe, Loretta, Auntie Pearline, who smoked like a vexed dragon, and Jo glared at each other.
Folks committed to whatever made them happy. Nieema included; she was at peace with her hook and wanted to stay as is, but her soul wouldn’t allow such a thing.
“I mean it,” Loretta snapped from the table. “Nimmy, that man is fine wherever he at. Shit!”
“You think they was newlyweds,” Uncle Charlee shouted. “Makes me sick.”
“I think they’re cute,” Jo said.
“Thank you, grandson.” Nieema paused to gulp her liquor. “Mace? Mace, baby, come here.”
Mace left Uncle Charlee’s side and was unimpressed. “Can you get grandma some ice?”
Mace gave her a side eye before looking at the cooler not ten steps from her chair.
Nieema lifted brows and dangled her glass. “I got a pain in my neck. Inna back, I can—“
He snatched it and she gasped. “Boy, you lost your motha fuckin mind. Snatching from me.”
“Sorry, Grandma.”
“Yeaahh, don’t do that. Don’t wanna get on my bad side. Ya know I kill—“
“A frost ogre!”
Every voice near and far hollered in unison.
“We know, GG, you not to be messed with. We knoooooww.”
She twisted around and grimaced at Jo’s uncalled-for two cents.
“Wasn’t nobody talking to you, lil’ Jo.”
“Huh.” Mace handed off the ice.
“Thank you, baby. Say, you know a lot about technology. I told Jasper about your skills. She needs a website; I told her you can make her one, no problem.”
Macion scoffed and giggled. “Grandma, why you tell her that?”
“Cause you got a computer business.”
“No the hell he don’t!” Tre laughed and pointed at Mace with his loaded hot dog. “GG, he has a free site where he makes business cards and shit. Mace only got like two clients.”
“Aye, at least they’re loyal.”
Nieema shook her glass, rattling nugget ice. It had a lil’ sugar and blood in it, too. Chunky, easily crunched, with an incredible mouthfeel. She was in love with an ice maker and might catch a body if someone tried to steal it.
“Nooo.” She squinted, trying to recall the conversation. That’s not how Nieema remembered it at all. “You said you had a computer business where you make computer software.”
“No I did not.” Mace, filled with mirth, and snickered. He scratched his head and said, “Grandma, I helped you with your website one time and showed Papa Buck how to use his social media accounts cause Bernadette, your media manager, was on maternity leave. What I have is digital content business. I make digital fliers, displays, and logos. It’s hardly a business, more like a side hustle.”
“Speak it into existence,” Maggie bellowed from inside the house. “Stop doubting yourself, nephew.”
Mace rolled his eyes. “Anyway, if Jasper needs help setting up a website, I can do that. But I can’t promise much; I’m still learning my damn self.”
“Thank you, baby. I’ll let her know. She needs something. That woman got too much talent. Jasper should be doing it for a living.”
Nieema crunched, losing focus quickly. Distracted by the thumping behind her ribs. The telling rhythm and sudden hot flash made her grin.
“I know you lying,” Nieema mumbled, setting her glass in its holder. “I’ma be back.”
“What I tell yo’ hardheaded ass?!” Loretta snipped.
“Etta, ain’t nobody listening to you.” Nieema flapped a hand and set off toward Gallow. “Gimme thirty!”
“More like five hours.”
“Shut your damn mouth, Jo. And stay outta grown folks’ business.”
The sensations popping off within sent Nieema into a flitting cauldron of bats. She took the quickest route to reach her destination. It was urgent, and she was eager to taste the sweet scent which stained the natural forest musk.
She landed on the balcony, perched on the slippery ledge like a carnivorous gargoyle. Nieema inhaled greedy gulps of what she knew to be her man’s spent and sweet succubus cream. She licked her lips, eyes pinned to the glistening puddle. If this were the time, she’d slurp it up. Every god damn drop. Nieema salivated, thirst growing wicked. She acted upon instinct and slipped into the tree house as a swirling mist. In this form, she blended well with shadows. Though there weren’t many in Buck’s place. He loved natural lighting, lanterns, and crystal lamps. There weren’t too many nooks and crannies, either, but she found them.
Rolling with a subtle breeze, Nieema swirled about upstairs and slipped beneath the door.
She spilled into the room like a dense fog and paused. Awestruck and lusty, she listened.
They orchestrated a symphony of claps and moans. The music caused her to quiver and rise.
The show was obscene, steeped in eroticism. Whatever hesitations Jasper had were good and gone. Buck was a man who fucked as if it was his obligation.
It pleased him to rend one orgasm after the other from Nieema. She’d been on the receiving end for more than a century.
One, two, three was never enough. And tough Jasper was a hell-bred succubus; she was irrevocably cooked.
Nieema’s old man had them legs tied, locked, and in the air. His vicious vines knotted and imprinted upon her skin. The roping dug into her luscious thighs and framed her pussy.
It was the perfect view. Hiked up in his very own suspension system, Jasper was wrung loose. Her cries were weak and threaded with pleasure. A mess of curses and pleas.
Nieema whipped about and circled the knocking bed. The damn box spring never held for longer than a year with Buck’s relentless beating.
He gripped bound thighs and fucked the shit out of Jasper. The woman had covered him in gold and god damn, he was pretty. Strong-willed and sparkling with her surging release. His skin glowed as sweat dripped from stray curls.
Nieema ached to yank on his swaying, thick braid and make him bow at her feet.
“Gimme one more, you can do it.”
“Uggghhhhh—I can—hnng.” She whimpered and panted. “One more! Oh gods, it-just one more! I’m coming agaaain.”
Buck, on the edge, talked her through it and Nieema wallowed above them. She ascended, watching like a true, horny, freaked-out voyeur.
“Thaaat’s it, darlin’,” Buck said, stroking her slow and easy while he came down off what was probably nut number five. “You make me proud, demon. Lemme look atchu.”
Nieema’s form shivered and shuddered at his precious words. Perhaps she was ready for a little collar time.
“Bananas,” Jasper roared. “Fucking, bananas. I’m done.”
Nieema’s sneaky husband laughed as Jasper growled. She wasn’t having it.
“Understood,” Buck nodded and stripped Jasper of every vine. They decorated the bed and floor. The clutter and scraps were about to piss Nieema off a little bit. Somebody had to clean that and them sheets.
But as Buck released Jasper, of course his ass just lay there. Head on Jasper’s fabulous tiddie. He was about to fall asleep, and with how Jasper scratched his scalp, he was about to start snoring.
Jasper sighed and opened her eyes. She tilted her head and smirked.
“You’re a creep.”
“You ain’t say that earlier and—“
“Not you,” Jasper said, staring at Nieema’s misting form. “Your wife.”
“Nimmy?” Buck sniffed the air, eyes still closed until he lifted them. “Ooooweee. You nosy somthin’. Rude dame.”
Jasper giggled and shrugged. “It’s all good. I sensed her a few minutes ago. Didn’t mind the company. Would’ve stopped if I did.”
Jasper’s acceptance and the mess they were lying in were enough to get Nieema down. She dropped into her full, corporeal form with hands on her hips.
“Buck, get your ass out this bed and wash up! You too, Jasper. Shit. Lying there with nut on your tiddies.”
Buck groaned and kicked at crackling vines. “Woman, ain’t nobody tell you to come over bothering me. If I wanna sleep in the wet spot, I will!”
“I know you will, filthy motha fucka. Get on somewhere, old oak.”
He rolled and shot out of bed, grinning like a damn fool. “I like how you wearing that house dress, beloved.”
Nieema gave him a coy shoulder and smiled. “Well, it is your favorite color.”
“That it is, baby.”
He captured her by the waist and snatched her ass into his solid, damn body. Nieema allowed his wildness to spread like a balm. His kiss never ceased to renew her. It was in his arms where she was born anew every night.
Though Buck was greedy and biting, his dick wasn’t up for it. Soft as marshmallows, flaccid, just dangling there. Not even a twitch.
Nieema laughed, breaking their kiss. She tugged on his balls and the man hissed.
“She sucked you dry, boy.”
“I ain’t sucked shit.”
“Not with your mouth,” Buck muttered on his way to the bathroom. “C’mon in here and let me wash your feet.”
Jasper cackled and sighed, sliding a dulled, tired amber to Nieema.
“He’s obsessed with my feet.”
“He into toes real bad.”
Jasper snickered and sat on the edge of the bed. Nieema glanced at the pillowtop folds of her stomach and heavy breasts. She was a fine piece of woman, and Nieema counted down the hours until they touched again.
“It’s funny, cause I’m a foot girl. I make feet content.”
“You do what now?!” Buck slid into their conversation, hair free from its tight weave. Nieema grunted as her husband puffed out his chest. “You sell what?”
“Feet pics. I make pretty good money. But it’s not enough to pay all my bills. I haven’t posted anything in ages.”
“Why not?” Buck asked, staring at her cute, chubby toes. “I wanna see ‘em dressed up. Can I choose the next color for you?”
Nieema rolled her eyes. He never picked the right shades. But Jasper was soft on him, so she agreed. She’d come to regret the decision. Nieema only laughed at her naivety as she picked up the small trash bin.
“Go on, girl. Get yourself together.” Nieema batted them away and got to cleaning.
While they shared water and giggles, Nieema used vampire agility to tidy up. She cleared vines and stripped the bed. After redressing it in fresh linens, she jogged downstairs and prepared the tea.
Buck always needed a hefty hot cup after good sex. She flushed at the thought of him and sighed; wistful and enamored.
It was a wonder how she still swooned over the old man. Moths and bats fluttered in her belly as she threw a lil’ something together. A midnight snack hit harder after multiple orgasms.
A couple slices of homemade lemon pudding cake, strawberries, and sun tea for the lady. It’d tide them over until later.
With nothing pertinent to do, Nieema headed back upstairs and headed for the loft. It was her favorite place to relax and read sometimes.
Buck’s tree house was essentially his space. His domain. And she didn’t stop by often. Not that she wasn’t welcome, but Nieema wanted her husband to have something of his own as she did.
Setting the loaded tray on the coffee table, she eyed the bookshelf stacked with freak nasty offerings. It’d do absolutely nothing for the throbbing ache between her legs, but she’d grab one anyway.
“Let’s see,” she skimmed spines and snatched a title she hadn’t read yet, “The Maid Gets Milked. Dear goddess, yes.”
Buck stayed on top of his selections and kept it fresh. There was no telling what’d be up in here tomorrow. He was unfussy when it came to his reading material. If the man read anything at all, it was some form of erotica.
Taboo, piss, sentient objects, lactation. He didn’t give a damn. Whereas Nieema wasn’t about to read any old thing. Some stuff she never touched. But she wasn’t about to pass up a book with milkmaid in the title. Hell nah.
Feet kicked up and crossed on the couch, Nieema waited. She flipped pages and stuffed her face with tiny, marinated cubes of raw beef. As titillating scenes finally grabbed her fixed attention, Jasper appeared.
Fresh out of the shower and wearing Buck’s favorite sheer robe, she was a treat.
“Hm.” Nieema eyed the demoness. “You didn’t even leave none for me.”
The woman blushed and nabbed snacks. She dared not look Nieema in the eye.
“He was insufferable, Your Majesty.”
Happiness filled her chest and belly. Nieema turned a page and said, “He tore your ass up, chile.”
“No crumbs!” Jasper collapsed onto the opposite sofa and groaned. “Your husband is persuasive and charming. Hard to say no when he’s so sweet.”
Nieema wagged a finger and nodded in agreement. “He can be generous when throes have him by the antlers.”
Jasper chewed and mulled, eyes like a banked fire spoke of her curiosity.
“Antlers?” She considered this and went for another slice of cake. “You know, this house is immaculate and built with love. But the furniture is overlarge. Counters are higher than most. Am I correct to assume there’s more to Buck than what I’ve seen?”
Nieema smiled behind paperback pages and noted her quiet spouse. He arrived with loose, damp hair and a thin wrap tied at the waist. His slutty ass knew how to tempt a weak-willed woman.
It wasn’t often they got to strut around booty butt naked. If not in their room, the dungeon, or his tree house, they had to put some clothes on.
Their main house was never empty enough to have tiddies out.
“You’d be right, darlin’,” Buck said, smelling like sex and vanilla. “But I ain’t looking to scare you off so soon.”
His saccharin scent would drive Nieema to madness. When the moon was high and full, her thirst intensified.
Jasper smirked and noshed on her last corner of coke. “If you’re not wearing clown makeup, I’ll be good.”
“You’re scared of clowns?” Nieema asked, finding this confession adorable as hell.
The demon dusted off her hands and nodded. “Full face makeup in general creeps me out. Not like foundation and shit. But like, costumes and face paint. It terrifies me. Though, the latter is ceremonial in Undervell. It’s always scared me. Since an underling.”
Buck nabbed his tea, added a piece of cake to his saucer, and dropped into his recliner.
With her book and beef, Nieema wanted to be content, but she was starving for his honeyed blood. She wasn’t sure if Buck was even up for it after his marathon with Jasper.
“Imma eat this, then feed you,” Buck said, grinning. Nieema winked and let him eat in peace. “You scared of clowns, that’s fair. I’m scared of snakes.”
Jasper laughed at this and beamed. “You, scared of snakes?”
“Yup. Iown want to see one, hear it, feel it. Hell no! Keep them far away from me.”
“Even garden snakes,” Nieema muttered. “I love them, though. Cute little dirt noodles.”
“Nope. They be in attack mode.”
“They keep bugs from tearing up your plants.”
“Do I care?!” Buck shouted with a mouthful.
“Every time he sees one in the field, he comes running to me.”
“That’s right! You love ‘em so damn much. Shit.”
Jasper giggled but deadpanned. “You are in the forest now, Buck. I’m sure there are snakes aplenty here.”
“As long as I don’t see them, I’m straight. Mm. This tea is good, my love. You can make a nice cup when you want to.”
“What you saying?”
“Huh?”
Buck shook his head and tried not to laugh. “Nothin’. Just you know, sometimes your tea is kinda bitter.”
“Bitter?!” Nieema sat bolt upright and grimaced. “Hol’ on, cause whose tea you calling bitter? I was putting the kettle on before you was even born, my guy.”
“Wait, you’re older than him?” Jasper asked, grabbing her glass.
“By a hundred years or so.”
“Daaaammmmnnn,” Jasper snickered. “You like them seasoned, Buckley.”
“You right.”
“Seasoned?! Why I never…” Nieema gasped and threw her book. Laughter threatened her stern delivery. Feigning vexation, she snarled. “You know what? Both of y’all finna get put on my list.”
Their trio laughed as Nieema rose and sashayed on over to her man. She retrieved his empty dishes and set them on the tray.
“Woman, I wann’t done with that yet.”
“You ate every last bite, hush your mouth.”
Buck pulled her close and into his lap. No matter the years or countless memories they shared, Nieema was giddy when up in his space. She looped an arm around his neck and laid two pecks upon his cheek.
“You need to shave,” Nieema mumbled as the man rested his head on her breast. “And with a straight razor, too.”
“Stop bothering me.”
“It’s scratchy, and them electric ones don’t work as well.”
“I don’t get cut with them, either.”
He kissed her neck, and she tittered. “Teasing me. Mmmhm, my big baby.”
Nieema held him close and squeezed, loving their silent connection. It thrummed within her veins and danced on the heart strings which tether their souls.
She kissed the top of his head and inhaled her sleep aid. While Nieema lavished her king with affection, she noted Jasper’s quiet joy.
“What’s got you smiling like that, dear?”
“Your love.”
Nieema blushed as Buck patted her hip and nuzzled her jawline.
Heat might have grazed her cheeks. “It’s carried us through much.”
“We’re not perfect, Jasper. We worked hard for this here.”
Buck nibbled on Nieema’s cleavage, and she popped him in the head. His dark laughter delighted an old vampire. Though, it wasn’t something he could promise tonight.
He bumped her chin and called for her attention. The world lay in his eyes. They gleamed with life and vitality. Nieema had come to adore his uniqueness. Dignified scars on his brow, upper lip, and temple made him handsome. He was no blemish-free vampir,e and Nieema loved that most.
“It ain’t always tea and roses.” Buck grunted and locked into their eye contact. He pressed upon her soul and heart. “Every marriage has its trials and droughts. We aren’t the exception. But I am still here because Nieema is worth more to me than being right. Her love inspires hope and brings me peace. She is my better half. My queen of all. And the reason I choose to be the best version of myself. I wake every night praying I make her proud.”
Nieema bared her fangs and hissed in his face. “You know good, and damn well I’m proud of you! Every single—ooo, you gon’ make me cry in front of company?! Buckley, look here—boy, I oughta…whew.”
Nieema blinked as tears pricked. Her throat clenche,d and her tongue refused to work. She averted her gaze, turned away from Jasper, and placed her head on his broad shoulder.
“Girl, he’s too much.” Nieema swallowed a lump of hot coals and said, “I swear to the gods. Makes me sick. Can’t stand his ass.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
Buck rubbed her back and patted. His gentle reassurance was more than enough to calm the pyre in her gut. He soothed the emotional influx and tapped her thigh.
“G’head, baby doll, I know you need it.”
“I do,” she pouted. “You smell too damn good. Like vanilla bean ice cream and Jasper’s pussy.”
The succubus coughed and hacked. She dribbled with purpling cheeks. “Shit, Nieema. You’re far too bold.”
“Well,” she popped her shoulder and angled her old man’s head just so. “You got something I can’t resist, dear. And just so you know, we vampires aren’t known for tact or propriety.”
Nieema grabbed a fistful of Buck’s hair, unhinged her jaw, and sank fangs an inch deep into his throat.