Page 54 of Lessons with the Mothman

"This pussy is yours," I breathed out.

Elias purred with pleasure, drawing out, giving me a chance to catch a breath, before slamming in once more. I quivered and choked, my head bouncing against his fur, a rich, creamy scent wafting into my nose and making me dizzy. I turned my face, remembering what he'd said about his pheromones, and rubbed my cheek into his mane.

Elias laughed, low and ragged. "Oh yes, she's all mine, and she wants it so bad. Don't you, toy?"

"Yes."

He rumbled. "Then you'll have it."

An arm braced at the nape of my neck, pressing my cheek to the wall, and I shouted as his hips snapped to mine, unapologetically rough and quick.

"Fuck, I needed you," Elias whispered. I panted, my breath fogging over the smooth wallpaper with every beat of his length inside of me. "Every time I came this week, it was to the thought of you. I can't—I don't—Victoria."

I squeaked as he crowded me close and deep, so tight to the wall I couldn't breathe, hot flashes of release bursting inside of me, wet and shocking. It'd been a long time since I'd had sex without a condom, and I forgot how much I liked it, how it made me clench a little more, like a kind of victory in the other person's surrender.

Elias moaned in my ear, easing back and circling my waist with his arms to keep me close. He staggered away from the wall, yanking my shirt loose from the door, keeping me on his cock. My toes scraped over the floor, legs tangled in shoes and shorts and torn underwear. My water bottle and backpack were abandoned by the door, and I let out a half-hearted mumble of objection.

"Don't move," he grunted, carrying me with uneven steps past the fishing bear, pausing once to bend us both over and give another emptying thrust inside of me, a little of his cum sliding out to drip down my thighs.

We made it to the stairs in starts and stops, where Elias pulled out of me with a groan before collapsing down on a step near the bottom. His fur looked damp from sweat, and his cock was still arching eagerly toward his stomach, dark and swollen and still slick with release.

"You weren't exaggerating," I said, toeing off my shoes, privately thrilled by the mess seeping out of me.

His head was draped back on another stair, arms and wings spread akimbo, and he opened one eye, humming in interest as he looked me over.

"Take off your shorts. I want you to rub that dripping pussy all over my cock and balls," he said.

I swayed in place for a moment, Elias's words keeping the earth moving under me so I wasn't able to find an even keel, and then I did as he ordered.

It tookover an hour to make it up the stairs between all of Elias's hungry pawing and demands for me to suck him, ride him, and once to just let him rest and catch a little sleep.

"I haven't gotten any since yesterday morning, I think," he'd rasped, cradling me over his half hard cock, stretching out over the hallway carpet. I'd lost my shirt somewhere on the last flight, but Elias was warm enough to snuggle against.

When he woke, he'd groaned, scooped me up in his arms, and hauled us both to a plain looking door and up a flight of stairs into what I'd assumed might be the attic.

It probably had been an attic at one point. Now it was a loft apartment, complete with a kitchen in one corner, an enormous platformed tub tucked behind a half wall, a brief, small living room area around a standing fireplace and two bookshelves, and finally, a massive bed surrounded by the bay windows that faced the corner of the street.

There was no theme, no staging, and it compromised between modern and vintage styles.Thiswas Elias's home.

He kicked the door shut behind us and carried me as far as the large and comfortable looking couch before putting me face down over the back and into the dense cushions.

"Elias?" I asked, laughing and preparing for him to press back inside of me. He hadn't since the front door, and as rough as he'd been, I wasn't feeling sore yet.

Instead, I heard his knees thump behind me, and soft breath rushed over my ass.

"Wait—" I choked out, stiffening.

"I need this," he growled, and the words had an effect like magic on me, making me go limp once more, hiding my hot face in the soft bouclé of the couch.

I thrashed slightly as he spread me open, and then I buried a moan deep into the cushions as a scorching hot, wet tongue stroked around my labia.

"You're my toy now, Victoria," Elias whispered into me. "I'll take whatever I want from you. Including this."

I hauled air into my lungs in desperate gasps. Elias's tongue explored me with a thoroughness that matched the thoughtful, erudite nature I'd grown to know in him. He mapped me with delicate little laps in small creases, long strokes at a perfect pressure over my lips, and across the back of my thighs.

"I like the way we taste together," he whispered, and I sagged further, giving up and accepting this treatment. My muscles softened, and he groaned in approval, pressing his face embarrassingly deep into my ass and sex, and still I remained unwound.

I'm his toy.

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