Page 53 of Lessons with the Mothman

I mustered a smile and tried to think of anything else I could share with Lyle. Had I given enough instructions about connecting to my Wi-Fi? What about the TV remote? Watching cats and apartment-sitting wasn't especially complicated, but maybe there were a few more details I could scrounge up. It was easier than getting onto my feet and heading for Elias's.

"Are you nervous?" Lyle asked, scratching the kitten with one hand and an orange stray I'd named Buster with another.

"I think so," I said, since it was mostly pointless lying to Lyle.

"It's not like you guys weren't already fucking at a rather ambitious level," he pointed out, catching a laugh from me.

"It's just… It feels a little official. Like we went from being casual fucks, to fuck buddies, to?—"

"Lovers," Lyle said simply. "In the most profane sense of the word."

I shot him a glare. He wasn't making this easier. "I've only had one real relationship and one other longer term sexual partner. And those were tangled together in the same fucked-up timeline."

"Do you want to avoid a relationship, sexual or otherwise?" Lyle asked.

No.The answer came easily. A major part of my studies was reconciling myself with what I wanted sexually, searching for a better way of feeling satisfied in my sexual relationships. Before this, it had all been theoretical. Something about what I was doing with Elias felt a little bit like an experiment—could I put into practice what I wanted in a relationship?—and on the other hand, it was becoming…too significant, and personal.

"I'm anticipating too far into the future," I said, and Lyle nodded.

"Aside from, you know, the excessive kinky sex, it sounds like you're dipping your toes in slowly. Just take things one boink at a time," he said, winking. "And stay hydrated."

I sighed and stood, reaching down for my backpack and the half gallon water bottle I'd filled and hoisting them into the air. "I'll do my best."

I hadn't seenor heard from Elias much since the night in his office. He told me he'd take the week leading up to my visit off from work, and I suspected he'd been busy dealing with whatever his mating season required of him. What word I had received had been incendiary texts, promising all kinds of filthy, delicious treatment for our weekend. The last message had been comparatively mild.

If I let you make it through the door, it'll be a miracle.

I hadn't realized how seriously he'd meant it.

"Oh god, Elias!"

He snarled at my back, my body pressed to the wall just inside the front entry, one foot still over the jam. My shorts were caught on my spread knees, and Elias's claws hung to the top of the doorframe as he straightened, cock driving higher into me. I was fairly sure we were out of sight from anyone on the road, considering how far back his house was set, but he wasn't exactly being quiet either.

"Just—just let me close the door," I rasped, bucking back into him, swallowing a whine at the shockingly tight fit.

He huffed, and then one hand grabbed my thigh, pulling my leg in. With an awkward buck of his hips and a tug of his arms around me, he jerked us sideways. The hem of my blouse caught as the door swung shut, dropping me into the dark entry.

"Hands on the wall." Elias nudged my ankles together, making the fit of his cock inside of me unbearably, wonderfully tight. My hands groped up the glossy wallpaper and my eyes slid shut. Elias groaned and thrust, hardly able to move inside of me. "You're just lucky I had enough self-restraint not to track you down at home, Victoria."

I shivered at the change in his voice, all the usual smooth glide and stroke turned to dark growl.

"I thought about hunting you down last night. Claiming what's mine."

His hands settled on my hips, around the underwear I was fairly certain he'd torn in his haste, and he pulled out in an agonizing drag, every inch of him sharply present.

"Do you know what is mine, Victoria?" he whispered, licking around the shell of my ear.

I shook my head, gasping for breath.

He growled again, and I shouted with him as he thrust deep. "This." Another retreat, and another brutal thrust. "Tight." Thrust. "Wet." Thrust. "Pussy."

I moaned, my knees hitting the wall, sinking me deeper onto Elias's length.

"Say it," he groaned, rocking against me.

"Elias!"

"Say it, Victoria." He scooted us closer, until my head fell back against his chest and my breasts were smashed to the wall.

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