Page 17 of Lessons with the Mothman (Monster Smash Agency)

CHAPTER 17

Victoria

The bar had fallen silent outside Elias's office door, and I was going to regret this late night when I had to show up to class tomorrow morning, but at the moment I was too caught up in the strange, private little world of a cluttered office and the golden fae cradling me against his chest.

His hand played between my legs, more like an absent thought than any real intention, but it was just shy of irritating. Too soft and yet too stimulating at the same time. Generally I enjoyed sex, and even masturbation, without needing to get off, used to getting by taking whatever pleasure that came. But tonight had been long and drawn out, and I'd been so close so many times that I now felt like an exposed live wire, crackling and ready to spark.

I covered his hand and slid it up to my stomach, fingertips tracing damp lines on my skin.

"No more right now," I said. I needed to calm down, at the very least. Actually, I needed to go home. If only I wanted to.

I was sore. Elias had been more demanding tonight, and after making me ride him to a groaning finish, he'd put me on my hands and knees and fucked me all over again, never flagging in arousal.

"Sorry. My mating season is starting," he said softly, kissing my forehead. "I'm not normally quite so pushy."

I snorted at that, and he laughed.

"I mean, as myself, I'm not," he said.

Which was a disquieting reminder that we hadn't really been playing roles for the past hour or so.

"What's a mating season?" I asked, adjusting my dress to cover me as I rolled. We were on the hard floor, but I couldn't bring myself to care and Elias apparently didn't either, his feet propped up on a box against the wall.

His chest rose and fell beneath me as he sucked in a deep breath. "The usual—heightened sex drive, increased pheromone production, more extreme awareness in the senses," he said, gesturing up to his antennae and then down to the coremata that were flicking over my clothed stomach.

My eyebrows rose. "What do your coremata sense?" And why hadn't I asked earlier, considering they had been playing all over my pussy and ass every time we'd had sex?

"They're something between…a tongue and the subconscious process of human scent receptors, I suppose," Elias mused, shifting more comfortably and reaching down to tuck the tendrils away. "That's a bit inadequate. There aren't always reasonable comparisons between species, you know."

It was enough to leave me blushing at least, but Elias wasn't studying me for once. "And your antennae?"

"Those are much more subtle. They detect arousal, fertility, cortisol, fear?—"

"So both sexual and predatory," I pointed out.

Elias sniffed primly. "It's nothing you aren't doing. We moth fae just do it at a more expansive and informed level. I can tell the difference between your scents, and the scents added to all your" —he flapped a hand in the air— "products."

"During the mating season?"

"All the time. During the mating season…well, I can sense all of that, and I can…manipulate a response a bit as well."

Eyes wide, I pressed my hands to Elias's chest and levered up into sitting, my back against the leg of his desk. He looked as though he might've been pouting for a moment.

"I didn't do it tonight, if that's what you're about to ask," he muttered.

I shook my head. "No, that's not— This is fascinating, Elias! How can you manipulate all of that? With the antennae?"

He laughed and sat up, scooting back against the wall and wearing a smile. "No, there are glands around my throat and groin, especially beneath my mane. It is a predator quality, I suppose, but I don't believe it works so well as to overpower the other person's will. I suppose…if you naturally were disgusted by me and I wanted to fuck you, I would have to get close enough for you to scent me. Ideally have your face right up in my fur. You might be surprised to feel some arousal, but it wouldn't outweigh your disgust."

"But if I was attracted already, and we hugged and I put my face in your mane?—"

"This is at the height of the mating season, mind you. That's still a couple weeks away," Elias interrupted.

"Elias, I'm not accusing you of seducing me via your pheromones. I'm curious ."

He sighed and nodded. "If you and I are around each other in a couple weeks, we'll fuck. Ideally, quite a lot."

"Like tonight?" I asked, head tipping.

Elias puffed a breath. "Like tonight on repeat for several days. Until I've so thoroughly depleted myself that I can no longer rise to the occasion. Which I suppose doesn't give you enough information. We'd fuck for days on end, with very little or no refractory period."

My mouth was dry, but another part of me was making up for that in wetness. "That's not— Can that even?—?"

Elias's smile was silky, eyelids drooping slightly. "I mentioned I loved frottage. I also enjoy soaking. Oral, thigh fucking, handjobs. And keep in mind, my libido is heightened. Someone once got me off with a feather. It's all about being creative."

And already, my mind was eagerly adding suggestions. Did Elias like toys? Brett had never wanted to masturbate for me when he would rather have sex, but after we'd broken up, I'd realized that it was one of my favorite forms of porn to watch. Would Elias let me use a fleshlight to get him off?

"H-how often does this happen?"

"Thankfully, just once a year. It's not as though I lack interest the rest of the time, and anymore than that would take it from being a fun, lusty holiday into a chore," he mused.

"Have you spent it with Cyril and Atlas in the past?" I asked, remembering their eager flirting.

Elias smiled. "Not the entirety. To be honest, I don't always want company for the majority of it. That's a great deal of time to spend with other people."

A sudden rough laugh escaped me, and I slouched more comfortably against the desk. "Fair."

Elias blinked slowly, watching me. My own tongue was tied, and the silence shifted from easy to charged, the obvious question hanging between us.

"Victoria," he purred softly, and I tried and failed not to squirm on the hard floor. "Do you want to be my pretty toy?"

I gasped, and even though I was more well fucked than I had been in years, my cunt gave a needy throb.

Elias bent one leg and leaned forward, propping his chin on his knee. "Do you want to spend days in my bed, being used and fucked and soaked? I promise to be gentle."

"I don't want you to be gentle the whole time," I blurted out too easily.

This was absurd. We'd already left impersonal behind tonight, and it had only been a few hours. Days of sex? Since when had I ever wanted it more than twice in one night?

It's not about what I want. It's about what he needs. Me , a dark voice whispered in my head.

Elias grinned and shrugged, his wings scratching softly against the wall. "When, I need to be then. Let me use you. My cock's grown very fond of you, and I don't think anyone else would do, truth be told. I'd just be craving your cunt the whole time."

I exhaled and the air rattled out of me, bitter with the jealous thought of him going to anyone else now. "I'll need dates. I have cats."

Elias blinked and brightened. "Do you really? I hadn't imagined that. How interesting. But of course, we can schedule our reckless debauchery."

I rose up on my knees and Elias sat up, spreading his legs in invitation. I nodded, and his black eyes gleamed. "All right. I want to be your sex toy for your mating season."

Elias purred as I scooted closer, stopping with my knees between his thighs. His hands wrapped around my hips, his fingers digging into my ass.

"You'll let me use you day or night?" he asked.

I nodded again.

His voice lowered and he leaned in, whispering into my throat, "What about when you're so, so tired, and you fall asleep lying next to me, darling?"

I shivered, my eyes sliding shut. "Especially then."

I groaned as his long tongue stroked up the side of my throat, swirling over my pulse.

"Do you want me to be careful? I have ways to block the scent glands that?—"

"No," I breathed out, shaking my head, brushing my cheeks against his dense, velvety hair. "I don't care. I want—I want to be out of my mind with wanting you."

Elias moaned and his hand flew up, fisting my curls and drawing my mouth down to his. I groaned and parted for him, sucking on his tongue, throwing one of my legs to sit and grind on his thigh, heat and ache and a lightning thrill jolting up my spine as we kissed.

I'd told my therapist once that around the time of the affair, I'd felt like I was on the brink of exploding, that I'd been searching for a spark or a match to set my whole world on fire. The reality of the breakup with Brett was quiet, although it had left an impressive wreckage for me to sort through for at least a year after. And that feeling of barely contained energy, dangerous potential vibrating inside of me, had passed with every week.

It was back now. I didn't know if I was racing toward another reckoning, another collapse of my life…

Or another metamorphosis.

I paused inside the entrance of the bar, taking in the heavy, dark wallpaper, lush greenery, and excess of patterns. Spanish funk music played over the stereos, just loud enough for the beat to be warm and inviting. It was fairly early still, and there was only one woman sitting on the brief barstool. Waiting for me.

Initially, when Emma had suggested drinks—with an actual confirmed date and time for once—I'd been tempted to offer up Nightlight as a location. After the other night and the agreement between me and Elias about his mating season, I was relieved to do this elsewhere. It would be too nerve-wracking to talk to my sister properly for the first time in over a year, with my new…whatever Elias was watching over us.

Emma waved shyly, and I hurried to join her, scanning the back of the bar, noting a few labels Elias carried but plenty of others he didn't bother with. His bar had more in-house recipes anyway.

Quit thinking about him , my thoughts snapped.

Emma was standing, and I realized too late she was reaching for a hug. The gesture stuttered as I gaped, and then we both tried again, awkward laughter adding sad punctuation to how estranged we'd managed to become.

But she felt familiar in my arms, a little taller than me, and she leaned in the way she had when we'd been close, bending and hunching to tuck her chin over my shoulder as I rose up on my tiptoes. I squeezed her tighter before she could pull away.

"I've missed you," I said, then released her, blinking rapidly at the burn in my eyes.

"I've missed you too," Emma said, breathless and keeping her face turned away as she climbed back up onto the barstool.

It took us too long to settle, passing minutes by examining the cocktail menu, asking harmless questions about her work or my study, stirring our drinks and making innocuous observations about the weather or Chicago traffic.

Finally, after a quarter of an hour, Emma took a sharp, deep breath, and I braced myself against the bar top, waiting for her to land the punch.

"We set a date."

I exhaled in a rush, a smile rising easily on my lips. "Congratulations!"

Her eyes were wide, flicking in my direction. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, relaxing back slightly and sipping on my drink. It tasted good, and I'd taken a photo of the list of ingredients to show to Elias. He could make it better.

"You have a venue?"

"The Rookery."

I nodded, smiling. My mother had pushed for a wedding at the La Salle Library, our families both being deeply loyal to the idea of a classic Chicago venue.

"I asked to elope to Paris," Emma whispered, laughing.

"Do both," I suggested, nudging my shoulder to hers. "Just don't tell Mom and Kathy. It'll take the pressure off for the big event. What's the date?"

"March third."

"So soon!"

She huffed and nodded, and I wondered if I imagined the spark of panic in her eyes. "A cancellation popped up, and we were next on the waiting list."

"Well, that's amazing!"

Emma's smile wobbled as she turned to me, eyes welling and glittering with the reflection of the hanging colored lanterns above us. "I don't think I can do this."

I froze in my seat. Oh, god. Poor Brett. Not once, but twice. And by sisters?

"Not if I don't know for sure that you're okay?—"

I nearly collapsed, and I was surprised to find it was relief cascading through me. "Oh, Emma?—"

"No, it's just—I know Mom said you'd need time and space?—"

I barked out a laugh.

"—and I get why it would be a shock?—"

"Emma," I pleaded, reaching for her hands, grateful that no one else had sat at the bar yet and the bartender was being fairly discreet while dissecting a pineapple in the far corner.

"—and I really do love him, but I can't handle the idea of every holiday being so awkward and just?—"

"Emma, stop." I squeezed her hands in mine, and she choked on her words, meeting my gaze. Her eyes were darker than mine, but so lovely. Emma had always seemed so comfortable in the mold our mother had shaped for us, and I hoped that was true, that she wasn't suffocating inside the way I had been.

"Em, I didn't need time or space or whatever it was Mom claimed. Splitting up from Brett was the time and space I needed. And to be perfectly honest, I wasn't that surprised when the two of you connected."

"Oh, god," Emma groaned.

"I always knew you had a crush on him."

"Vic, I swear, I never?—"

"Emma, it's fine . It doesn't matter if he pursued you. It doesn't matter if you jumped out of a cake naked the day after I left his apartment. Okay?"

She blushed, but huffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder, scented like a meadow, the strawberry blonde shade shimmering to pure pink under the lanterns, falling once more to a perfect, straight curtain.

"Sometimes, it feels like I'm just the replacement for you," she murmured. I opened my mouth, back straight, ready to chew Brett to pieces, before she continued in a rush, "That's just from Mom and Kathy. Don't worry. It's just…you know they got so attached to the idea of the families being connected. And when Kathy found out Brett and I were dating, she wasn't just happy for us, she was relieved ."

"Kathy hated me, but she loved Mom. She's probably ecstatic that Brett upgraded," I teased Emma. It was easier than I'd expected it to be to make jokes now. This was the only closure I'd really needed. Just knowing my sister and I were okay. "But Brett?—"

"It's not like he compares us or anything. He's very careful to make sure I know that he loves me and that's nothing to do with anything that came before, good or bad," Emma said carefully, but her voice was soft and her smile was sincere. She lifted a mango garnish from the inside of her glass and nibbled in thought. "If Mom knows you and I are good, she'll want you to be in the wedding party."

"Don't you dare," I hissed.

Emma grinned. "I was thinking about a pastel rainbow for my bridesmaids."

"Emma, I really want to be at your wedding, but if you make me a bridesmaid, I will leave the country."

She giggled, with just a hint of wicked intention, and for a moment I had to resist the urge to give her a strangling hug.

And then I realized it would be better to succumb.