Page 36 of Moth to a Flame

“Motthew?”

“Yeah.” He pointed to the youngest. “And that’s Motholemew, Mothigan, Timothy…”

I glanced between the phone and him.

“And your name is…Hawk?”

Red crept under the dark tattoos on his neck, and he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, that’s what people call me.”

“But your actual name is…” I let the question hang in the air as he blushed harder.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I would never.”

“Mothgomery.”

That was so fucking adorable. “What should I call you?”

“Lucia, you can call me whatever the fuck you want.”

Goddess, did this magic give us both unlimited stamina too? I had a feeling absolutely no research was getting done ever again if all it took was a few bats of his long eyelashes to have heat swirling at tectonic levels between us.

“Lie down.”

His embarrassment rose again.

“Actually, maybe I should just…” He shifted like he might try to leave.

But he wasn’t getting away from me. Not tonight, at least.

I sat up on my knees and pointed to the bed in front of me.

“Hawk. Lie down.”

He hesitated, but rolled over. I helped him position some pillows beneath his back to protect his wings, then looked down at the mess that was my sweatpants. A huge dark stain spread around the tent over his cock, way more than precum accounted for.

“I can go clean up⁠—”

“Stay.” I pressed a single finger to his chest to keep him in place.

He didn’t fight.

“Good boy.”

His eyes went wide, and a pulse of heat so strong passed through the bond that my magic slipped free, all the marigolds on my windowsill blooming at once.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and I tugged down his pants and underwear together. He sprang free, sticky cum covering his lower abs and very pretty cock. Thick veins, like the ones on his hands and wings, ran along the surface, and I counted six barbell piercings in his Jacob’s ladder, with an unusual gap between rungs three and four.

Everyone left, but I was going to make sure he remembered me for the rest of his life.

I gripped his cock around the base, squeezing gently until more glistening liquid spilled down those metallic ornaments.

“Lucia, please…” It was more whimper than words, and yes, I liked that very much.

I was going to have him doing that again.

I leaned down and ran my tongue over each of his piercings, gathering the cum that had collected there. It was sweet, like really sweet, but also musky, like honey from buckwheat flowers. I lapped it up greedily before swirling my tongue around his head, catching more fresh drops.