Page 34 of Moth to a Flame

In all my years of magic, I’d never felt something like this before—tingly everywhere, like tiny feet were crawling over every inch of my skin. Such a gentle sensation, but paired with the heavy heartbeat I could feel in my pussy and the soft caress of his antennae against my inner thighs, I felt like I was on fire.

Physically, I’d never been so sated.

Emotionally, it was something even deeper. A post-orgasm haze married with immense satisfaction that I was realizing wasn’t entirely mine.

“You okay, boss?” he asked, raising his head and slowly pulling his fingers out of me. The entire bottom half of his face was glistening, along with the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah—yeah. Um, what was that thing you did?”

The feeling of satisfaction surged.

“You liked that? Being part mothman does have some advantages.” A very dark pink tongue rolled out of his mouth, much longer than a normal human’s. He curled it, showing off the tip, and it was—hollow.

“Oh, like a proboscis.”

He grinned, and his tongue snapped back into his mouth. “Exactly.”

Underneath the thrumming satisfaction rolling off him, embarrassment surfaced.

“Most people think it’s freaky.”

“Hey.” I sat up and gently cupped his face. “I don’t ever want you to feel like that. Not around me.”

His red eyes searched mine, but it was impossible for us to get away with lying to each other. The emotional dissonance gave it away. The realization that I was being fully honest came to him quickly. I traced my thumb along his cheekbone and let him feel exactly what I meant.

“It’s who you are. And I liked it. A lot. In case that wasn’t clear from the crazy orgasm.”

The knot of embarrassment loosened in his chest. He turned his face into my palm and kissed the heel of my hand, then my wrist and up my arm, his antennae flicking gently.

“I see why Mugen likes these.” I laughed and tugged him up until he was lying beside me, his head on my pillow, one arm thrown across my stomach.

I ran my fingers through his hair. The curls were damp at the temples. He made a small, pleased sound and closed his eyes. After most hookups, I wanted the other party out before I could say something that would make it more awkward than it already was.

But Hawk heard me. He understood me, not just my words, but the deep part of me I’d locked away for so long I’d forgotten how it worked. I wasn’t sure it was working right even now, but I knew I didn’t want him to leave.

Not yet, anyway.

For a while, I just looked at him. The piercing in his nose. The flame tattoos that sprawled over his neck. The soft, dark fringe of his lashes. The mothman delivery driver who had crashed into my life…and was going to leave it soon.

His eyes flew open. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” A useless lie, but an automatic one. I deflected. “How did you get into delivery driving?”

He watched my face and must have decided it wasn’t worth pushing.

“Being part cryptid limits the normal jobs you can get. I like the road and motorcycles, and the pay is good. And it’s discreet, keeps me out of the family legacy.”

Now that caught my attention, along with a very old embarrassment that pulsed through him. It felt different, not shame exactly, but more like the particular exhaustion of a joke you’ve heard a thousand times.

“The family legacy? And what’s that?”

“Apparently, it’s running around nude and haunting Point Pleasant.”

I sat up on one elbow. “Hawk, is your dad the Mothman?”

“Yes.”

I heard the hurt in that too. It was a familiar hurt, one that spoke of a wound created by someone who should have been there for you. I laced my fingers through his, hating that he knew what that felt like.