Page 45 of A Moth to the Flame (Utopia #1)

Chapter

Thirty-Three

CORDELIA

I shimmy Duke’s body, just to prove that I can, to convince myself that this latest nightmare hasn’t been the wildest hallucination yet in a never-ending series of fresh horrors.

He furrows my brow as he stares at me. “Gingersnap, did you notice that?”

I laugh a little, and it’s the strangest sensation. Obviously, I’ve never had a dick before, but damn. My pussy is tight and hot and wet and everything that men claim they love about a woman’s body.

“I felt it all right,” I admit with zero shame. “That was the best orgasm I’ve never had.”

That’s not even me paying him lip service. It’s the honest-to-God truth. That was better than any orgasm I’ve ever given myself, even with my trustiest vibrator. Way better than jerking off his perpetually horny dick.

I stare up at the man—in my body—who didn’t leave me when he could have. If he needs a lifetime of therapy to work through essentially having sex with himself, then I’ll pay for it, gladly .

I pull my hand to his lips and kiss my palm. “Thank you. I can never thank you enough for this.”

He peels our sweaty bodies apart to check me over. “You can move again? Completely?”

I grin. “Yep.” I thrust his hips upward a few times to show him.

He curls my torso forward with a wince. “Easy there, champ. Playtime is over.”

I almost, almost laugh out loud. What a wild ride, for each of us to experience sex from the other side.

“Was it good for you, at least?” I check, breathing deeply and flexing all his considerable muscles.

I’m half-terrified that if he says no, I’ll go back to being paralyzed.

“Yeah,” he coughs out, before easing his cock out of me. He glances down, then does a double take. “Cordie.”

I shift my gaze down past the ripples of his abs. There’s a tiny smear of blood on his fully flaccid cock that rests against his stomach.

He snaps his gaze to me with wide eyes full of horror. “My big dick broke you.”

Aww. Poor, egomaniacal baby. At least he enjoyed an orgasm to ease himself into the harsh reality of a womanhood.

“Your body didn’t break mine,” I assure him. “I probably started my period, like I’ve been warning you about. How have you been with so many women and never experienced this before?”

He opens my mouth, snaps it closed, then rolls off his body to splay on my back against the fur-lined bed.

I sit up and glance around for the first time since we got here.

The ginormous bed is lined with a huge pelt.

It seems to shimmer in the flickering candlelight.

I caress the burnished golden fur with his callused hand, marveling at a texture that feels softer than the finest velvet.

Smaller pelts are scattered around us in a riot of colors.

Some are a vibrant purple, some are striped like a zebra, and others boast a rich emerald-green shade.

“These aren’t like any animal I’ve seen or even read about. They must be dyed,” I murmur as I study them.

“They’re about to be dyed red,” he chokes out.

I glance over his shoulder to find him staring down at my splayed thighs. A trickle of blood mixed with a white, creamy substance seeps out of my swollen pussy lips.

Feeling bold on the heels of the admittedly best sex of my life, I swipe his finger through my folds. “Have you never gone bareback before?”

I press a steady hand on my abdomen that’s likely cramping. It’s the least I can do in exchange for him sucking it up long enough to fuck me out of a coma.

“No.” He wraps my hand around his wrist. “Never, Cordie. I swear that to you.”

I bite his lip as a flood of emotion that I’m too afraid to label swirls in his chest. It’s enough that I believe him. That’s a good start.

“I can show you a copy of my latest sexual health screening when we get out of…” I glance around again. “Wherever we are.”

“I have one to show you, too,” he murmurs. “But what about?—"

Don’t even say it , I think, testing another development that cropped up while I was stuck in my own head.

His gaze on me doesn’t waver, and my lips don’t move when I hear his voice. I will never abandon you, and not because I have no choice. I’ll support you however you want, if it comes down to that.

I truly don’t want to think about an unplanned pregnancy adding another layer of complexity to this already complicated relationship. Instead, I focus on his promise that no matter what happens, he’ll support my choice.

I’m starting to think the greatest tragedy of my life would have been living it without ever having the chance to find out what a good man Duke is beneath the villain’s mask that someone else forced him to wear.

I didn’t imagine this new ability, did I? We can really talk to each other like this.

He arches my eyebrows. Seems so.

Is this safe? I chew on his lip. You saw what I did to all those poor animals.

You worried about frying my brain with mental lightning? My mouth kicks up at the corner with a hint of a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.

That’d be a shit way of thanking you for saving me .

That was one hell of a kiss, he says, and then frowns. Too bad it woke you up only to put your body in a different sort of misery.

“You didn’t cause my period. My body’s used to it.

You’ll be fine in about a week. In the meantime…

” I clamber off the bed with limbs that finally work.

My movements are still a bit sluggish, but I’m not about to complain.

I glance around the room that does, indeed, resemble a cave of some sort.

“Let’s see if I can find something to absorb the blood. ”

“See if you can turn up any Advil while you’re at it,” he moans, curling into a ball on my side. “Fuck. Feels like your insides are being stabbed with a hot poker. This is way worse than my bum knee when it storms.”

“Maybe you’ll be lucky enough for me to find some chocolate, too,” I chuckle as I explore the cavern.

No matter how many times I circle the room, I can’t find any sort of latch to open a secret passageway, even using his larger hands to smooth over every surface of the glimmering, slick rock.

The antique-looking candle sconces mounted to the walls don’t budge.

I move the chests easily with his body’s horsepower, but there’s nothing behind them.

I study them in lieu of any other options.

They’re clearly very old and very expensive.

I’m not a master woodworker, but I don’t recognize this shade or grain.

It doesn’t look like any material that I’m familiar with.

The borders of the surfaces and drawers are inlaid with spectacularly crafted scrollwork that seems to pulse with energy.

No matter how many times I blink Duke’s eyes, the sight doesn’t change. This gold is…almost alive somehow.

My excitement is tempered by the knowledge that I’m not alone to enjoy my geekiest book fantasies. Poor Duke. I chance a glance at the bed, where he’s lying with my eyes closed.

“You still with me over there?” I call out.

He mumbles something incoherent.

A bolt of regret shudders through his body. He’s shown me nothing but genuine care and kindness. Even if I didn’t spell him into being my mate, he might be the hero to my villainess .

I stride to the bed and smooth my frizzy curls away from my forehead. “Duke?”

He blinks at me blearily. “Cordelia.”

I never reveled in his torture, but as it turns out, I dislike his flat use of my full name. We’ve been through so much together that there’s no chance of ever going back to the way things used to be between us.

“I know it sucks, but you really will survive this,” I assure him as I caress my cheek.

His smile is half-hearted at best. “Find anything that I missed?”

“No,” I admit on a sigh. “You were right about no escape. How did we get here?”

“I wish I knew,” he whispers.

The very air seems to tremble, almost the way a heat mirage looks at the height of summer.

“Did you see that?” I ask as the wobbling stills.

He sits up and looks around. “Yeah.”

“What was that?”

His gaze shoots to mine. “Words. Maybe not just words. Maybe the intentions are what’s important. Fuck. Both together?”

“Okay…”

He’s not making any sense. Maybe I did fry his brain with all our mental talk.

He climbs off the bed then spins in circles. He glances down at my body that’s on full display.

My anxiety spikes. What if he doesn’t like what he sees?

“I wish we had clothes,” he says, loudly.

Guess that answers my unasked question.

I gasp as both of us are draped in fine silks and furs that seem to appear out of nothing.

These are the kind of clothes I used to imagine when reading fantasy books.

My body is covered in a cream, floor-length gown with a jeweled belt.

I glace down to find him wearing a matching cream-colored tunic trimmed in fur over breeches and leather shoes.

Everything looks straight out of the European Middle Ages.

We’re dressed like…royalty, complete with golden crowns embedded with sparkling gemstones in a variety of colors.

A weird choice for a quasi-prison .

“Holy hell,” he gapes at me before grinning. “I wish for pizza.”

A pie appears on a silver platter at the foot of the bed. Unfortunately, it’s covered in toppings that absolutely reek.

I cover his nose and try not to gag. Are those anchovies? “Get rid of it.”

“I wish that pizza was gone,” he announces to the air.

It disappears.

“How are you doing that?”

“It’s the words,” he repeats. “I think certain words have magic tied to them, but only if I really mean them.” He glances around and places my hands on my hips. “The specifics matter, so it’s giving us things we’re not specifically asking for. It’s…guessing what I’m leaving out.”

I sit on the edge of the bed before his knees give out.

That’s why we switched bodies. I wasn’t specific enough when I made the wish.

I wished Duke Castellaw didn’t exist anymore. I meant it. Not as an offhanded comment, but as something that I specifically wanted to happen.