Page 55 of Lessons with the Mothman

The meaning felt clearer now. I could be an empty vessel for Elias to use, at least until he called to me for action. The sounds I made, the muffled whimpers and heady sighs, were just answers to the way his long tongue burrowed inside of me, his nose nuzzling at my cheeks.

He stroked up my right thigh with his hand, his thumb coming to circle around my clit, and I shook at the small earthquake it sent through me. His tongue retreated, and he nipped at my ass.

"I just want you to drip into my mouth a little more," he explained gently, knowing I usually might object.

I couldn't now. I was his to use.

It was…liberating.

The back of the couch dug into my ribs and my breath was hot and stifled against the cushions, my head growing heavy from the inversion for so long, and none of it mattered. I wasn't anything but Elias's toy. I didn't have tobeanything else.

Elias's slow, circular rubbing coiled inside of me, tightening, heating, and I gasped as the warm, tickling pool of arousal gathered inside of me. His groan as it slipped down into his open, waiting mouth vibrated into my core, my legs twitching and a brief spark crackling in my core.

His hand flattened, soothing over my clit and folds and opening as he backed away, and I swallowed my whine, ragdolling over the couch once more.

"Perfect," Elias said, and then he pressed his rigid length back inside of me.

"Rafe made me a casserole.He says I have to reheat it in the oven rather than the microwave, but…"

"Mmm."

Elias straightened slightly, glancing at me over his wings, sadly folding them to his back and hiding the beautiful reveal of his ass once more.

"Microwave is fine," I said. "We probably don't have much time, right?"

Elias grinned, flashing a hint of fang. "Now she's getting it."

Just in case, I clasped the open collar of the silk robe Elias had dressed me in a little tighter around my throat and tried to look as unsexual as possible on the kitchen counter where he'd deposited me.

"Don't worry, I can restrain myself for an hour. Or most of one." He turned back to his fridge and hefted out a glass container of food.

"Is your mating season meant to be for finding a mate?" I asked, thinking of Rafe and Hannah.

Elias set the dish down with a thunk. "No. Fae don't mate in that way, actually. I suppose it's more of a breeding season. Would you like to know a secret I find somewhat funny?"

I relaxed back against the cupboard behind me and nodded. Elias's apartment—in his house, which was still a wild concept for me to wrap my head around—was turning rosy and orange from the setting sun outside. This was the most intimate experience I'd had in years, and in spite of my nerves earlier while talking with Lyle, I found it fairly easy and natural.

But maybe that was partly due to the fact that I'd already been fucked silly several times.

"Fae males have a very low sperm count."

I blinked and shook the cobwebs loose from my brain.

Elias smiled smugly. "It's true, and for some reason, the fae population has decided to take extreme offense to that fact being pointed out or recorded in any academic or medical journal. All of the old fae tradition, like the wild hunt and frolicking about the maypole—obvious phallic reference—were nods to our fertile seasons. But we have those to make up for the somewhat lackluster results."

"Fae are rare because of low male fertility," I summarized, and he nodded.

"There's no female breeding season, either. Before we joined the other species in integration, they just had to put up with us losing our minds once a year. Fae unions are growing thin now that the female population has more prolific options."

"I read a study that said in two generations, there will be dozens of entirely new species," I said, watching Elias arrange slabs of some kind of unidentifiable but no less delicious looking food onto plates.

"Mmm, yes. The old guard who objected to integration are saying it'll be a chimerical mess, but it's not as though half the so-called monster species that exist weren't already born of genetic blends. Humans will be next," he said, punctuating the statement with a press of the button on his microwave.

"Next?"

Elias shrugged. "More and more humans mate with monsters each year. I imagine at some point, there will be some kind of uncomfortable and inappropriate conversation about preserving species as they are. It will fail. We all seem to be irresistible to one another in the end."

I leaned my head back against the cupboard. "How old are you?"

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