“What happens if I touch your wings?”
He shovels the rest of his French toast into his mouth, and I stop myself from gaping at him. I’ve barely had two bites, and this massive monster just inhaled his meal.
He pushes his plate away and turns in the chair to face me.
“I get turned on.”
The corner of his mouth tilts up, and I can't help the blush that blossoms on my cheeks.
“But what if you have them wrapped around me and my arm is touching them. Would that turn you on too?”
He shakes his head.
“It’s different. You intentionally touching the silken membrane—the most sensitive part—with your fingertips will get a reaction from me. But it’s not like I’ll come the moment you touch them. It’ll drive up my desire though.”
“Has it always been like that? Your wings being an erogenous zone of sorts?”
“Not really. I’ve had a handful of partners I’ve allowed to touch my wings, and while it felt good, it’s not the same. It didn’t make me feral.”
“And I would do that? Make you feral?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
Locheran takes my left hand and weaves his four fingers with my five.
“It’s a good thing, I promise.”
He points at my plate. A silent command to finish my food before our conversation can continue.
Five minutes later, I take my last bite and set my fork down. I turn in my chair to match Locheran’s pose.
“What does it feel like to be in your human form?”
He lowers his eyes before answering.
“It feels like I’m still me but as if I’m wearing a costume. Honestly, it’s more like armor. It keeps me safe and protects me from being exposed to the human world. Though, I suppose I won’t need my human form much longer.”
“How many humans did you sleep with while in your human form?”
“A lot.”
“Oh.”
He squeezes my hand. “Are you jealous?”
“No.” I turn away from him to hide my smile. “But wouldn’t having sex in your human form be, I don’t know, deceptive?”
“It's still me. My cock, my fingers, my tongue. The magic of our masking ability reimagines us as what we’d look like if were humans.”
“How many partners have you had?”
“Do you really want to talk numbers? I’m a thousand years old, Mouse.”
I shake my head because the gargoyle makes a good point.
“Tell me about knotting. How does it… why does it…”
