Almost gouging out Wes’s eye with the tip of my wings, I spun around to face him. “Oops, sorry, keep forgetting about those,” I said as he dodged. “What the fuck was that?” I hissed.
“They were using such an intense voltage, implement, and delicate body part, she could’ve genuinely believed they were slitting her throat. Which triggered a complete ego death.”
My mouth dropped open. “That’s… horrifying.”
“It’s edge play, that’s for certain,” Wes said, glancing over my shoulder at Archer and Jayne. “Kink with a high-risk profile, in this case, psychologically. I just hope they did their due diligence during negotiations and are going to take care of her properly the rest of the night.”
I looked back at the girl, and Wes once again dodged my wings.
“You’ve lost your wing privileges,” he muttered.
I caught the exact moment she orgasmed, Jayne’s lips around one of her breasts as Archer brought her over the edgewith his fingers. Her body shook as a guttural cry tore through her.
Wes held me still as he removed my wings.
“I was once told to never let a man clip my wings,” I said, turning back toward him with small smile.
“I didn’t clip them. I stole them. You are now a fairy far easier to trap,” he drawled, setting them on the floor so he could touch me with both hands again.
It was alarming that the fear from Archer and Jayne’s violent display had done nothing to curb my appetites. Watching someone else shake with a powerful orgasm was like torture, a reminder of my own thirst.
A thirst I wasn’t sure had ever been fully quenched, not once in my life.
All around us, wealthy attendees and plus ones were devouring each other. Appendages and toys were entering holes, mouths sucking, tongues exploring, hips thrusting.
Wes and I stood in the center of the carnal storm, smiling like we were sharing some private joke none of them would ever understand.
Wes glanced around at the tangled bodies with a vague, bored expression. It was nothing like how he looked at me. “At a certain point, it’s all just flesh, ain’t it?”
My smile widened. I savored each slip of his slight southern twang. “Does flesh not interest you, Wes?”
His eyes returned to mine, their heat curling my toes. He leaned in close, hovering just a few inches from my waiting lips.
“Oh, baby,” he said. “It interests me.” His grin mirrored mine as he pulled back slightly. “But what interests me more is beauty. Beauty that will never die—beauty that grows stronger and wiser with age. Beauty gained from experience and love and grief and resilience.”
Bodily sounds and low music and slaps and moans faded to oblivion. Only Wes’s voice remained.
“I don’t merely desire your body, Nova. I need your soul.”
25
NOVA
Ileft Roman’s wings behind in the room of flesh. I found it poetic that way.
Wes carried me through the mansion. I stopped looking for Lorelei. All I saw washim.
Everything about the space had grown darker as the night progressed. Decorum and restraint had long faded. The demons were out to play, the hungry ghosts in search of satiation.
I didn’t protest when Wes carried me away from all of it—all of them. He set me down, and we collected our belongings from dutiful attendants in the foyer. I changed back into my dress in a downstairs bathroom.
Then we waited for our car on the steps outside. With my head resting on his shoulder, I watched a few fireflies spark to life in the distance.
“Why do you ride the subway, Wes?” I asked him as the black car pulled up the massive driveway.
“Because it’s real,” he answered. “I decided a long time ago I only wanted to pursue what was real.” He paused. “And… I love the subway.”
“That’s crazy.”
