Tara loved when her victims fought back after it was too late. Warrior blood was what this succubus was in the mood before. Not that she actually drank blood or anything so filthy, it was merely a fitting description. She wasn't out to harm the well muscled soldier's body, no she wanted something far more succulent. His immortal soul.
With a quiver of anticipation that never dulled no mater how many thousands of times she did this she approached the man. His name was Eric and he stood just shy of six feet. He weighed over 200 pounds, and was quite chiseled. His hair was cropped short and he moved liked the trained fight he was. Tara confidently approached and touched the man's highly toned arm. "Excuse me sir, might I sit next to you and enjoy your company? My uncle was once a warrior and I miss hearing his stories of battle."
Eric looked at the lithe beauty beside him in shock. The woman was beyond beautiful, he had never seen her like before. His normal confident and easy going manner was cast aside as he stuttered his response. "S-sure, m-milady." Tara giggled, "I'm no lady, I'm just Tara." Eric gave his name and took a long draft of ale to recover his poise. Tara was gazing at him with eyes that he could almost fall in to. Eric told her of a story - the details were unimportant to Tara however she nodded and commented where appropriate. She made sure to frequently touch her soon to be victim lightly, making the poor man fall more and more into lust with her.
When the time was ripe Tara suggested they retire upstairs, "I want to thank you for the story... properly," she gestured upstairs of the inn. Eric couldn't fathom his luck, his member had been erect for the entire conversation. He quickly nodded and Tara inwardly cackled in triumph. This young warrior in the prime of his life was about to lose his immortal soul and be damned for all eternity before his life had truly begun.
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