Page 90 of Lessons with the Mothman

As much as Elias enjoyed the preening praise from my mother, he did tend to grow bored with her quickly, and he turned a cold shoulder on her if she picked at me in front of him. My father, however, had entirely won Elias over. Their mutually quiet habits, love of antiques, and business acumen made them easy companions, and the three of us had recently gained the upper hand against my mother, spending New Year's with just immediate family and partners rather than hosting another one of my mother's socialite parties.

I'd been open to the idea of a relationship with Elias, then I'd accepted that I was in one, and yes, lately I was thinking of it in more of a potential future sense than just a pleasantly present situation. We made each other happy, and not by squashing ourselves into perfecttraditionalromantic boxes.

"Do you think Mom knows?" Emma whispered in my ear.

It took me a moment to realize what she meant and then I laughed, shaking my head. "She'd never even consider it. Don't worry. I see Dad heading her way now. Your escape is nearly here."

"She'll never forgive me," Emma breathed.

I snorted. "Don't fall for that. She'll be fine. Elias already has a half dozen speeches ready to fool her into thinking it's charmingly romantic."

Speaking of Elias he'd made his escape and was walking toward us, Brett at his side. It was strange to see them together. The high school football quarterback turned investment firm partner, something like my first love and first heartbreak, although they were faded versions in my memory now. And at his side, casting his all-American good guy looks into washed out shadows, was Elias. My enigmatic mothman who owned a slightly less abandoned mansion—now that it was serving as the venue for Rafe's bi-monthly dinner club and anoccasionalevent space—and a wildly popular cocktail lounge, and who consulted with a sex work agency forfun.

I might've spared Brett a glance, a smile. Emma loved him after all, in a way I never could, and he loved her in return, every bit as much as I would've demanded for her sake. But Elias's gaze had me in its grip, the depth and darkness as potent now as it had been that disgustingly hot day we'd met.

"Our cue," Elias said as the obnoxiously loud and thumping dance music shifted abruptly into a tender classic, an old Ella Fitzgerald number my parents sometimes danced to in the kitchen—the sweetest memory I had of them from growing up.

"Don't forget to turn your phone off," I said to Emma.

Dad was leading Mom out to the floor, her giggle and smile only for him for once.

"Ready?" I heard Brett murmur to Emma.

"I've been waiting all day," she answered.

And then Elias and I took each other's hand and hurried to the dance floor, his arm hooking around my back, spinning us as his wings spread open, catching a few gasps from nearby guests. My skirt flared around my legs as we turned, and I caught the flash of my mother's smile, her laugh, and then a quick peek atEmma and Brett, easing around the edge of the room toward the exit.

They had a plane to catch, a flight to the Maldives to start a honeymoon a day earlier than my mother would've preferred. It was the most selfish choice Emma had made for the entirety of the wedding planning, and I was outrageously proud of her.

"We don't have to linger in their place, do we?" Elias asked, murmuring the words in my ear.

I shook my head, leaning back in the frame of his arms, his wings blocking the view of the door my sister was fleeing through.

"It would be entirely unwise of us to linger," I said, smiling.

Without Emma on hand, my mother's focus would turn to me, and that was bad enough without the added temptation of wedding talk.

"Then let's make our own escape as soon as the song finishes," Elias suggested.

"Not now? I think Emma and Brett are safely away."

"Not yet," Elias said, holding me tighter. "I want this dance with you."

Elias's groanlicked into my mouth, vibrating in my throat, the ragged edge matching his uneven pace inside me. I tried to match his thrusts, whining, rubbing myself against him. I was tensing, clawing my fingers along his back like it might drag me further to the edge, even as the edge kept inching away.

Elias said I fought my orgasm, but I swear I was only fighting for one.

"Oh, Victoria," he moaned, head thrown back. His hand braced against the headboard, hips shifting against mine, deeper and harder, snapping. "Look at me."

My eyes flew open, and I hadn't even realized I'd been squeezing them shut. I opened my mouth to say that I couldn't get there, Iwantedto, but it had been a long day with the wedding, and some of my mother's comments were stuck on a loop in my head, and it was late and he should just?—

Elias's gaze swallowed mine, his brow tightening. "God, you're so beautiful," he gasped. "Oh fuck, Victoria, I'm going to— You feel so good?—"

He just wanted to see me. That was all he needed.

Suddenly, my heart burst, cascading warmth and an unbearable shattering sensation that made me want to weep. I wrapped my arms around his back as Elias's mouth fell open, a deep shout of elation exploding out of him as he stiffened, burying himself deep inside of me.

"I love you," I said, the words bursting out of me as I knot my legs around his hips.

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