Sins of the Succubus

6. Neela

6

NEELA

I can't shake the feeling that Dremlor's presence in our bar is more than mere coincidence. A demon of his caliber, and I assume he has plenty of rank by the way he carries himself, doesn't just stumble into a place like this without an agenda.

The way his eyes follow me, it's clear he wants something. Probably just looking to get laid, like all the rest. But there's something different about him, something that makes my skin prickle with a mix of fear and... excitement? I push the thought away, disgusted with myself.

I force a smile and continue my rounds, refilling drinks and dodging wandering hands. It's all part of the job, but tonight, the routine feels heavier than usual. My skin crawls with each lewd comment, each unwanted touch. The air feels thick, oppressive, like it's trying to suffocate me. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

"Another round for table three," I mutter to myself, loading up my tray. The glasses clink together as I balance them carefully, my hands shaking slightly. I've done this a thousand times, but tonight, everything feels off-kilter.

As I weave through the crowd, I catch sight of my husband. His face is twisted in anger, eyes boring into me. Great. What now? My stomach drops, and I feel my heart start to race. I've learned to fear that look.

He storms over, grabbing my arm and yanking me close. The tray wobbles dangerously, and I struggle to keep it steady. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he hisses, his breath hot on my face. I can smell the alcohol, and I fight the urge to gag.

"My job," I snap back, pulling away. "What's your problem?"

"My problem?" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "My problem is that high-and-mighty demon over there hasn't so much as touched you. You're supposed to be entertaining him, not playing waitress."

I glance over at Dremlor, who's watching our exchange with mild interest. "He hasn't asked for anything else," I say, keeping my voice low.

"Then make him ask!" My husband's grip tightens. "Go over there and offer him a private dance. Show him what you're good for."

The words sting, but I'm used to it. "And if he's not interested?"

"Then you're not trying hard enough." He shoves me towards Dremlor's table. "Don't come back until you've sealed the deal. We need his business."

I stumble, catching myself on a nearby chair. The patrons nearby laugh, thinking it's part of the show. If only they knew.

Taking a deep breath, I straighten my clothes and plaster on my best fake smile. Time to see what this demon really wants.

I saunter over to Dremlor's table, my hips swaying with practiced allure. My stomach churns, but I force a coy smile. "Can I interest you in something... more personal?" I purr, trailing a finger along the edge of his glass.

Dremlor's eyes flicker with understanding, but he simply lifts his empty glass. "Just a refill, if you don't mind."

I blink, caught off guard. "Of course," I manage, grabbing his glass. As I turn to leave, his voice stops me.

"You don't have to do this, you know."

I freeze, then slowly face him again. "I don't know what you mean."

He leans back, his gaze intense. "I think you do."

I rush back to the bar, Dremlor's glass clutched tightly in my trembling hands. My heart races, knowing I've failed yet again. Before I can even reach for the bottle, Thaelar's there, his eyes blazing with barely contained fury.

"Neela! A word."

I flinch instinctively, my body tensing as if preparing for a blow. With a resigned sigh that feels like it's dragged from the depths of my soul, I turn to face my husband, steeling myself for the inevitable.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Thaelar hisses, his fingers digging into my arm as he yanks me close. His breath, hot and reeking of cheap liquor, washes over my face. "I told you to seal the deal with him, not get him drunk! Are you really that fucking useless?"

"I'm trying," I protest weakly, attempting to pull away from his iron grip. My voice sounds pathetic even to my own ears. "He's not interested in anything else. I swear, I've done everything you?—"

Thaelar's face contorts with rage, his features twisting into something truly monstrous. "Bullshit. You're sabotaging me, aren't you? Trying to ruin my business? Is that your pathetic little plan?"

"No, I—" I stammer, fear closing my throat.

"Don't lie to me!" He shoves me against the bar, the edge digging painfully into my back. His fingers dig deeper into my shoulders, and I know I'll have fresh bruises to hide tomorrow. "You think I don't see what you're doing? You're holding back on purpose! You ungrateful little bitch!"

I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself for whatever comes next. In this moment, I almost wish Dremlor had taken me up on my offer. Anything would be better than this.

Before anything else can happen, the announcer's voice booms through the bar. "Gentlemen, put your hands together for our star attraction – the enchanting Neela!"

I close my eyes, exhaling slowly. "Duty calls," I mutter, setting down Dremlor's glass and heading backstage.

The familiar beat pulses through the air as I step onto the stage. My body moves on autopilot, undulating to the rhythm. I wrap my legs around the pole, spinning gracefully. The crowd hoots and hollers, but I barely hear them.

As I arch my back, my gaze lands on Dremlor. He's moved closer, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. There's something different in the way he watches – not the usual lust or greed, but... curiosity? Recognition?

I slide down the pole, my movements fluid and sensual. My hands trace the curves of my body, but my focus remains on Dremlor. He leans forward, his brow furrowed as if trying to solve a puzzle.

Emboldened by his attention, I push myself further. I climb the pole, muscles straining as I hold myself horizontal. The crowd gasps, but Dremlor's expression doesn't change. He's looking past the performance, seeing... what?

The music pulses through me, but it's not what drives my movements anymore. It's him. Dremlor. His gaze burns into me, igniting something I've never felt before. The crowd fades away, their leering faces blurring into nothingness. It's just me and him.

I slide down the pole with a fluid grace I didn't know I possessed. My eyes lock with his, and a jolt of electricity shoots through me. What is this feeling?

My body moves of its own accord, each twist and turn designed to captivate him. I'm no longer dancing for the crowd or for my husband's profits. I'm dancing for Dremlor, and only Dremlor.

As I spin, I catch glimpses of his face. His expression is intense, focused. He's not ogling me like the others. He's... studying me. Like I'm a puzzle he's desperate to solve.

The realization thrills me. For once, I'm not just a piece of meat to be devoured. I'm a mystery to be unraveled.

I push myself harder, executing moves I've never dared attempt before. My muscles strain, but I barely notice the burn. All that matters is holding his attention.

"You're different," I hear him murmur, his voice somehow carrying over the pounding music.

I pause, hanging upside down on the pole. "So are you," I breathe back.

His lips quirk into a half-smile. It makes my heart leap in my chest.

The song's ending, but I don't want this moment to end. I slide down, landing gracefully on my feet. The crowd erupts in cheers, but their applause sounds distant and hollow.

Dremlor stands, his eyes never leaving mine. He takes a step towards the stage, and my heart races. What's happening to me?

"Neela!" My husband's harsh voice shatters the spell. "Private room. Now."

I blink, reality crashing back in. The crowd's back, their hungry eyes devouring me. And Dremlor... he's still watching, but now there's something else in his gaze. Anger? Protectiveness?

The spell breaks as the announcer's voice cuts through the applause. "Let's hear it for Neela, folks! Don't forget – private dances are available for our VIP guests."

I stand, bowing mechanically as I catch my breath. As I leave the stage, I can still feel Dremlor's gaze burning into my back.