Page 8 of Lessons with the Mothman (Monster Smash Agency)

CHAPTER 8

Elias

I crossed my ankles and leaned to the left as Atlas grunted and bucked in Cyril's grip. Victoria was out of sight, hidden behind the writhing bodies on the bed, and if she didn't reappear in a moment it would be a challenge not to get up and follow her.

"Would you like a better view?" Cyril hissed, rolling his entire body, tail squeezing around Atlas's chest and legs, the minotaur's eyes rolling back in pleasure. Cyril's hands gripped Atlas's broad horns, drawing him into an arch, driving him forward with every deep grind. "Do you want to see my cock thrusting between his thick cheeks? It's quite a picture, I assure you."

A step tapped against the hardwood floor. I straightened, ears and antenna twitching uncontrollably.

"That's not necessary."

Was she breathless, or just trying to be unobtrusive?

And then a wisp of red appeared, and Victoria walked slowly around the bed, emerging from behind the lovers to face their sides, a respectful distance back from the bed but her eyes sharp. Her cheeks were blatantly flushed, and I itched now more than ever to join her, to scent her arousal, hover my wing at her side to see if her temperature had risen.

"You're keeping Atlas from coming?" she asked, bent slightly, a sudden focus at the minotaur's irritatingly impressive cock. It was too long and heavy to stand truly upright, but it made an arc in the air, tip slick and gleaming. Her head tilted, and I realized she was looking below to where the end of Cyril's tail had Atlas's weighty sac in a vise grip.

Cyril was quiet for a moment, swallowing a moan as Atlas rocked back into his thrusts. "It'd be a shame to waste him," Cyril rasped.

Victoria blinked at that, opened her mouth for another question, and then paused, watching the pair instead. Atlas huffed in deep breaths, his thrashing now in tempo with Cyril's sinuous motion. The naga's groan of pleasure was airy and quiet, and he nuzzled into Atlas's throat, the moment suddenly private, personal. Victoria took quiet steps away from them, watching the whole picture now, giving the couple the space to enjoy one another.

The interview had gone long, but neither Cyril nor Atlas made any complaint, and Victoria had long since stopped observing the clock in the corner near me. I'd scheduled them early in the day for this exact reason. Victoria's curiosity was insatiable, and they were a good pair to satisfy her—well, that part of her. Granted, Cyril approached answers like a form of foreplay, and stoic Atlas had an eager gleam in his eye when it came to performing.

"That's it," Atlas breathed, and then snarled as Cyril retaliated his soothing with a brutal grip on his balls. "Go on, my love. Give me what I want."

Cyril's arms lashed around Atlas's chest, and his tail grew restless, sliding up and down the silk of Atlas's fur. Scales shivered and gleamed, a soft zzzzip sounding as they brushed together, like glass pebbles being stirred by gentle fingers.

One of Atlas's arms squirmed free of Cyril's trap, hand reaching back and tangling into silky dark locks, thick neck stretching and flexing to offer Cyril's nibbles more room. They were beautiful together, a show I'd enjoyed and partaken of in the past, but my interest was now more eager for the slow, halting steps of the woman moving closer to my seat. Would she join me? Or continue to walk in circles around them?

Long, pale legs and freckled knees with the unsteady gait of a fawn, hips wider than slender shoulders, loose shirt hiding what I suspected would be modest breasts and an exquisite collarbone. I wasn't generally aroused by physical appearances, although I appreciated fine aesthetics, but I'd found myself fantasizing about little pieces of Victoria recently. Her hair tangling around me, the top of her head under my gaze, elegant fingers stroking my fur, and now these freckled knees would be tormenting me in my idle hours. She turned, and the backs of her knees were almost translucent, blue veins stark and pronounced under delicate skin I wanted to drag my claws over, trace the paths with my tongue.

Cyril released a rattling cry and then silenced abruptly, the snap of his jaw muffled beneath Atlas's appreciative groan. Victoria stumbled back two steps, just out of reach. If I thought it wouldn't startle her, I could lean forward and cup my hands around her hips, draw her back into me, settle her onto my lap for the rest of the show.

Victoria gasped at a sudden scuffle on the bed, and I tore my eyes from her.

Atlas untangled Cyril's now satisfied body from around his limbs, taking the naga by the shoulders and rising up onto his hooves, horns nearly scratching the ceiling. Cyril's smile was lazy at being bested, his mouth gleaming with Atlas's blood, mouth opening invitingly and long tongue flicking out, cleaning drips of glittering precum from Atlas's angry red shaft.

I didn't have to grab Victoria; she was paying too close attention to the couple as she stepped back, and I wet my lips as she almost mistook my lap for her seat. Rather than disturb her focus, I claimed the grip of her hips I'd been imagining—perfectly plush and fitted to my large hands—and guided her to the side, offering her the seat at my right.

"Now you'll see why I put up with Cyril's wicked mouth," Atlas teased, thick fingers tangling further into Cyril's hair, guiding his cock deeper between stretched lips.

Victoria's breath was uneven as she sat next to me, and she didn't notice as our arms brushed close. Slowly, I leaned in, breathing deeply and catching the whiff of her interest, musky and tart, ample enough to make my mouth water.

"Holy shit," Victoria murmured, eyes widening, and I glanced back to the bed, chuckling as Cyril's throat flexed and swelled, Atlas's cock disappearing inches at a time.

"One of my favorite things about the integration of species is finding all the fascinating ways unexpected pairs suit each other. Few can take all of Atlas or his kind," I said, keeping my voice soft and close to Victoria's ear.

"I did wonder," she answered. Her blouse rustled with the force of her breaths, and I glanced at the buttons. Was she small enough to not need to wear a bra? I could suck at her nipples as she watched Cyril gobbling down Atlas's enormous cock. Just a few loose buttons and— "His throat massages rather than needing to thrust. It's…gentler than I thought it would be," she whispered.

I cleared my throat, blinking, and refocused on the couple on the bed. If Victoria worried her arousal was unprofessional, she definitely wasn't about to let me seduce her in front of her study subjects. Focus, Elias. The seduction can come later.

"They're a mated pair," I said.

"Mating can be open? Or the flirting is just?—"

"A bit of both. For some, mating makes it easier to have an open sexual relationship, I believe," I said, shrugging. "You're very secure in a mated pairing. There's no chance of another person fracturing that connection."

Victoria hummed as Atlas started to gently thrust, Cyril's sleepy, sated gaze growing clearer, his hands squeezing at the white globes of Atlas's ass, receiving a swat from the minotaur's tail in answer.

"Suck harder, my love, or you'll never see me satisfied," Atlas warned in a growl.

"It will take several orgasms before Cyril really drains him," I said.

Victoria's eyebrows rose, but she nodded, glancing between Atlas's spread legs. "I can imagine."

There was a pause of quiet, and then we both snorted. Victoria's hands lifted, scrubbing over her face, as if she was trying to distract herself from her interest. But her legs squeezed together, the hem of her shorts outlining the soft flesh of her thighs.

"Is this difficult for you?" I whispered.

Her hands lowered to her lap, and for the first time in over an hour, her eyes found mine. They were a little wild, pupils dilated, and her cheeks were flushed, a giddy kind of excitement brightening her expression.

"No…and yes," she answered, turning back as Atlas's grunts and moans grew more urgent.

I ignored the minotaur, leaning closer. "Tell me."

Her lips parted, lashes fluttering shut briefly as my breath teased a curl below her ear. "It's nice to feel aroused. That got difficult at one point. It's difficult not to have an outlet for it though."

Atlas's body bowed backwards, and he howled, covering the sound of my question. "Do you miss fucking?"

Victoria was quiet, almost as if she hadn't heard me, and Atlas wrestled Cyril down into the bed, straddling the naga in a kneeling position, lifting scaled hips up to his still erect cock. I relented, edging away, watching the pair. Cyril whimpered as Atlas's thumbs stretched open the swollen lips of his sheath, where his cock had retreated after finishing in Atlas's ass. Nagas were very versatile lovers, a fact which Cyril had bragged to Victoria and she now witnessed with stunned fascination. Atlas shuddered as the fat head of his cock squeezed into the tight sleeve.

"I can—" Atlas grunted and shook himself. "I can feel his little cock nudging against mine. We barely fit."

Cyril moaned, thrashing against the sheets, hands scrabbling for purchase as he rolled up as if to tuck Atlas deeper. "We always manage, darling." His tail whipped up, strangling around Atlas's throat, the minotaur bucking deeper with a shout.

Victoria's breath breezed into the furred collar around my neck, tickling at me, the air catching in my lungs.

"Yes. I miss it."

I scowled at the empty room, searching it once more, as if I might find Victoria hiding in plain sight. There were still wisps of her scent, but they were thin and faint compared to the overwhelming perfume of Cyril and Atlas.

I'd walked the couple out after they'd made their goodbyes to a seemingly calm Victoria. She'd even managed not to blush as the naga flicked his tongue over her wrist during a gallant kiss on the hand. I'd left her here, in this room, with the soiled bed and her notes, and now it was all abandoned…

She'd run from me, from the charged moment. I planted my hands on my hips, wings flexing and chest puffing out, wondering if I was more irritated with myself for pushing her too far, or with her for skittering away.

Except her notes were here, her bag, her recorder.

So she was just…hiding somewhere. Perhaps even waiting for me to find her?

I turned on my heel, hands sliding down into my pockets. Perhaps she'd forgotten that most monsters were even more natural predators than humans. My race of fae might not have the scenting skills of a werewolf, but we had excellent hearing, and my antenna caught certain natural pheromones in the air, especially the ones Victoria would've been exuding.

I was halfway down the hall, tingling in anticipation of finding her, cornering her, catching those wild eyes with mine once more, when I heard the sound of water running and the squeak of a handle, the sound shutting off.

I leaned back against the wall across from the lavatory and waited. She didn't look surprised to see me as she stepped out, with little droplets clinging around her hairline. She'd splashed herself with cool water?

"We should talk," she murmured.

Two steps forward, now how many back? Since when had I ever been so impatient with a potential lover?

"Follow me," I offered, and I reached out my hand just to see if she would take it.

Her hand was cool and a little damp against mine, eyes sliding down to the floor, but her body remained close as I led her down the hall. I was tempted to take her back to the room we'd just been in—remind her of her arousal, of our bodies too close to one another on the bench—but instead, I chose a sunny room full of comfortable, casual furniture, a few books resting out on a table, the walls covered with old naturalist prints and pinned specimens. She slid away from me, my fingers loose around hers, expecting her retreat. She did so slowly and after a long pause.

"You regret accepting my offer earlier," I said.

She turned to face me, and I wanted to fist my hands at the return of her implacable calm, the unreadable woman back in place. She helped herself to a seat, curling her legs under her on a blue cushion that matched the color of the veins on her legs I'd been lusting after earlier.

"Was it an offer?" she asked.

I frowned and sat down in the matching armchair across from her. "Not explicitly, but I intended the insinuation of one."

She nodded. "I intended the insinuation of accepting it, then—you're right."

My hands settled on the arms of the chair and I crossed one leg over the other. "But?"

But it would be unprofessional. But my work is important. But it was a result of my arousal and not a sincere interest in you.

Her answer didn't match any of my guesses.

"But I want to know how it would work between us," she said. I sat up, and her eyes softened before shying away. "I'm not rejecting the offer, Elias. I just need there to be…appropriate boundaries between sex with you, and working on the study with you."

"I can draw back from the study more," I said.

She smiled. "You're more interested in having sex with me than helping with the study?"

I opened my mouth to say yes, then thought over the question. Actually, I really enjoyed the subject of her study, and I enjoyed watching her work.

"I'm not sure I need you to draw back. I just need the…the Elias and Victoria working on that study to be different people than the you and me having sex together."

It was impossible, of course, but I could think of a couple solutions that might appease her. And I was selfish enough not to point out the flaw in her plan.

"And I need this to be about you getting off. Using me," she said, her voice growing thin, words halting and starting as color rose to her cheeks. Her eyes met mine, and they were bright again, eager. "I don't want you to try and make me come."

It took everything in me not to argue her point. I was good at what I did, and that was figuring out what got a person over the edge of their pleasure and then giving it to them. Repeatedly.

"Please, Elias," she said, gaze fixed to mine, breaths growing short.

Then again, maybe her request was about more than a pattern of frustrating connections with others. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

"You want to be used?"

Her breath hitched, and she nodded in a small jerk.

I chewed over her answer in my thoughts. "Do you want to be forced?"

Her lips parted and she drew back, and then relaxed and shook her head. "N-no. I think it's… Not forced, but not about me or my pleasure. Like it's my role to make you come." She bit her lip and her brow furrowed. "Like it's all I'm good for."

Some degradation, but not force. A toy, perhaps, or… An inkling of an idea started to stir, and I glanced around the room.

Not here. Not yet . Just as I'd done for Atlas and Cyril's performance, I would have a stage to set and some roles to consider.

"Very well. Give me time to plan," I said.

Victoria's eyes widened once more. "Plan?"

I smiled, relaxing into my seat. "Trust me. This is what I do. And I promise you, I do it very well."