Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!-Chapter 138: Junior Sorceress, Melisa Blackflame, Part Twenty-Four

{Melisa}

Melisa’s eyes fluttered open, sunlight streaming through her curtains like an unwelcome house guest. She groaned, stretching languidly as her tail curled around her thigh.

[Fuck,] she thought, glancing at the clock. [Noon already?]

Her body ached in all the right places, a delicious reminder of yesterday’s... activities. Between healing nim and Raven’s talented fingers, Melisa had cum more times than she could count.

[All in a day’s work. Fun as it was, though, focus Mel. People are still dying. Get your horny ass out of bed.]

Melisa dragged herself up, throwing on a shirt that barely reached her ass. She’d grab proper clothes after mom’s usual delicious coffee. Probably.

As she padded downstairs, a familiar scent hit her nose. Melisa froze, her tail standing straight up in surprise.

Javir sat on the couch, legs crossed, wearing nothing but a collared shirt and some very skimpy panties, kinda just like Melisa. Her sunlight-colored hair fell in messy waves around her shoulders as she read the day’s paper.

[Holy shit,] Melisa thought, her mouth suddenly dry. [Is this a dream? Am I still asleep!?]

"Morning, sleepyhead," Javir said, a smirk tugging on her lips. "Or should I say afternoon? Bit late, eh?"

Melisa swallowed hard, trying to remember how words worked.

"I, uh... hi?"

[Smooth, Mel. Real smooth.]

Javir chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Melisa’s spine.

"Coffee’s in the kitchen. Figured you’d need it after yesterday’s marathon healing session. Made it myself. Margaret and Melistair had... a bit of a longer night than usual, it seems."

Melisa nodded dumbly, her eyes glued to Javir’s long, toned legs.

"Thanks. I’ll just... go get some."

She stumbled to the kitchen, her heart racing. As she poured herself a cup, her mind whirled.

[Why is she still here? Why is she dressed like that? Is this a test? Am I supposed to resist? Because I really, really don’t want to.]

Taking a deep breath, Melisa returned to the living room. She perched on the edge of an armchair, hyperaware of how little she was wearing.

"So," she said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. "What... brings... you... here... in...?"

Javir stretched, her shirt riding up to reveal a tantalizing strip of skin.

"Oh? A bit distracted, Miss Blackflame?"

Melisa’s brows shot up.

"N-No, just..."

"Sorry," Javir said, giggling. "Just felt like being comfortable before I head on out. Hope you don’t mind. I’ll change in a bit."

[Mind? I’m about five seconds away from jumping you.]

"N-no, of course not," Melisa stammered. "It’s your house too."

An awkward silence fell. Melisa sipped her coffee, trying desperately not to stare at Javir’s cleavage.

"You did good work yesterday," Javir said suddenly. "I heard you healed a lot of people."

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Melisa nodded, latching onto the change of subject.

"Yeah, it was... intense. But worth it."

"I bet," Javir murmured, her eyes roaming over Melisa’s body. Every now and then, during this short talk, her eyes would flicker down and then slowly pull themselves back up. "You must have been exhausted."

"It wasn’t too bad," Melisa said, her voice huskier than she intended. "Raven helped."

Javir’s eyebrow quirked up.

"Oh? What kind of help are we talking?"

Melisa’s own brows shot up.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?" Melisa smiled.

Memories of Raven’s fingers, her lips, her tongue flashed through Melisa’s mind. She felt her cheeks heat up.

"Professional curiosity," Javir replied casually. "That’s all."

"Well, just, you know. Support. Friendly."

"I see," Javir said, a knowing glint in her eye. "Well, if you ever need any... additional support, you know where to find me."

[Holy shit, my heart’s beating so fast!]

Melisa’s mind raced back to the gala. To that moment when they’d nearly kissed, the air between them electric with possibility.

Now, in the quiet of the living room, that same energy crackled between them. Melisa found herself leaning forward, drawn in by Javir’s magnetic presence.

"Javir, I—"

A door slammed upstairs, from Jaylin’s side of the manor, breaking the spell. Melisa jerked back, nearly spilling her coffee.

"Well," Javir said, standing up smoothly. "I should get dressed. Lots to do today."

Melisa nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She watched as Javir sauntered towards the stairs, her hips swaying hypnotically.

At the bottom step, Javir paused, glancing back over her shoulder.

"By the way, Melisa? That shirt looks good on you."

"T-Thanks."

With a wink and a laugh, she disappeared upstairs, leaving Melisa slack-jawed.

[Fuck me,] Melisa thought, slumping back in her chair. [Really? This shirt looks good on me? I didn’t think my...]

Melisa looked down at herself.

[Oh.] Melisa’s face reddened. [Oh.]

The moment she saw what Javir was wearing, Melisa completely forgot what she herself was wearing.

[... Right.]

---

{Armia}

Armia smoothed down her dress, eyeing herself critically in the mirror. The silky fabric clung to her curves, accentuating her muscular figure in a way that was almost... feminine.

[Petite, hehe,] she thought, giggling to herself, a small smile tugging at her lips. [That’s what the kitsune trainer called me.]

Sure, she still towered over most humans like some sort of golden-scaled Amazon. But for a darian? She was practically dainty (apparently).

Armia snorted. Dainty. Right. Like anyone would use that word to describe her.

"Armiiiiaaaa!" Isabella’s whine filtered through the window. Armia went and looked. "If you don’t hurry up, I’m going to start the party without you!"

Sighing, with a final adjustment to her hair, Armia stepped out. Isabella lounged in the back of the ornate carriage Kimiko had arranged, looking like sex incarnate in a dress of her own that left a lot less to the imagination than Armia’s did.

"Finally!" Isabella grinned, her emerald eyes raking over Armia’s form. "Damn, scales. At least you know how to clean up nicely."

Armia felt her cheeks heat.

"Thanks," she mumbled, settling into her seat. "You look... um..."

"Fuckable?" Isabella supplied helpfully.

"I was going to say ’presentable’."

"That’s less fun."

The carriage lurched into motion, the clip-clop of hooves filling the air. Armia watched the scenery roll by, her stomach a knot of nerves.

"Hey," she said suddenly, turning to Isabella. "Try not to be too much of a slut tonight, okay? We’re going to be associated with each other at this thing."

She knew this was like asking rain not to fall, but she still wanted to try.

Isabella outright laughed.

"Oh, come on. As far as I know, the only reason kitsune are ever invited anywhere is to be as slutty as possible. It’s practically my job description for the day."

"..." Armia blinked. She had a hard time countering that notion, though. "Fair enough."

As they rode in companionable silence, Armia couldn’t help but marvel at Isabella’s confidence. It radiated off her in waves, impossible to ignore.

[Where does she get it from?] Armia wondered. [Is it just because humans love kitsune?]

But no, that wasn’t it. Even for a kitsune, Isabella was...

Well, a massive whore.

And yet, Isabella carried herself like royalty. Like the world was her playground and everyone else just happened to be living in it.

As she lost herself in her train of thought, Armia didn’t realize she was staring (and Isabella didn’t tell her to stop). Armia felt a pang of jealousy.

What would it be like, she wondered, to feel that comfortable in your own skin? To not constantly second-guess every word, every action?

"You’re thinking too loud," Isabella finally said, breaking into Armia’s reverie. "What’s got your panties in a twist? Besides my incredible presence, of course."

Armia snorted.

"You wish. I was just... you know, thinking."

Isabella leaned forward, her expression softening slightly.

"Scales, you’re heading into a party composed entirely of Syux’s elite. Another one, that is," Isabella added, visibly recalling the gala. "If you can’t keep from looking like you’re about to piss yourself then, perhaps we should have just not come."

"I’m fine. Just... a bit nervous, I guess."

"About the party?" Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Or about being seen with the sexiest kitsune this side of Yalmir?"

"Definitely the party," Armia corrected.

"Aw."

"Your ego’s big enough without me feeding it." Discover stories with novelbuddy

Isabella clutched her chest in mock offense.

"You wound me! And here I thought we were pussy friends!"

"What friends?"

"Pussy friends," Isabella reiterated casually. "You know, cause we’re always fucking the same girl’s p-"

Armia waved her hands.

"Okay, okay, I get it."

"Haha."

The carriage came to a stop. Armia’s heart leapt into her throat as she realized they’d arrived.

[Fuck,] she thought, suddenly paralyzed. [I can’t do this. I can’t—]

A warm hand covered hers. Armia looked up to find Isabella watching her, with a smirk.

"Not too late to turn around, you know, if you’re too scared."

Armia bit down on the insides of her cheeks.

[... No. Fuck this fox. I’m not giving her the satisfaction of seeing me like this.]

And, with that, Armia got out of the carriage.

"Oh well," Isabella conceded the victory. "Come on. Let’s see what they’ve got to offer."