Page 54 of Moth to Her Flame

I’m still trembling from the aftershocks of last night, the memory of being captured sending shivers through my weary body. But here, with Chelsea beside me, the golden light from my wings wraps around us, illuminating the moment we’ve been waiting for.

Her skin glows in the soft light of the crystals, reflecting the flickering hues as I reach out, letting my fingers inch closer. I can feel every surge of energy humming between us, a shared promise woven with soft breaths and lingering touches.

“You really are beautiful,” I whisper breathlessly, tracing the line of her jaw with the tip of my probe, causing her to gasp. Sheshivers from the gentle touch as our connection simmers and sparks between us.

“Riven.” She brushes the pad of her thumb across my lower lip. “At first I was resistant to you, then afraid, but now I’m so ready.” She tips her head, leaning away, to get a better look at me. This is a far cry from the woman I met who pointed a gun at me. The one I stood behind to braid her hair so she wouldn’t have to look at my repugnant features.

“I probably don’t need to tell you that I’ve been ready since the moment we met, Chelsea. Well, before that. I think I fell in love with your voice before I even saw you.” I tug her closer, savoring the way her body molds against mine. Our lips meet, slowly at first, a sweet exploration laced with heat and desire. I deepen the kiss, feeling her warmth seep across my skin, as though her very essence is a lifeline, coaxing me back to life.

Her hands find their way to my wings, fingers grazing along the shimmering patterns. Each caress sends jolts of energy rippling through me. My feathers arch under her touch, responding not only to her hands but to the thrumming bond we share.

I pull back for a moment, searching her eyes for assurance. “You’re sure?”

The tender smile that blooms on her face tells me everything I need to know. “Someday, I’ll tell you what it was like to stay in this mountain as we planned your rescue, knowing you were being harmed, maybe worse, while we waited long, agonizing minutes before we launched into action. I’ve loved you for awhile now, but those hours when I wondered if you were alive or dead told me just how deep my affection is for you.”

She smooths one of my antenna, her touch featherlight. “If that doesn’t answer your question, let me be clear. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Settling back into the warmth of our shared embrace, our kisses grow deeper, more urgent. My body, still healing, thrums in harmony with hers, and I can feel the surging call of the mate bond growing stronger.

Her lips travel from mine to my collarbones, trailing soft kisses along my skin. Her little tongue-flicks make my breath hitch. I close my eyes, letting her explore. She finds a sensitive spot just beneath my jaw, and I can’t suppress the soft sound that escapes my lips, a mixture of pleasure and surprise.

“That’s… incredibly sensitive,” I murmur, my voice barely more than a husky whisper. Her smile against my skin tells me she’s filed that information away for later.

My wings respond to our connection, growing brighter, casting wavering reflections on her perfect skin. The room seems to come alive around us, the crystal light shifting and pulsing in time with our heartbeats.

My fingertips trace the curve of her waist, the softness of her skin, like silk beneath my touch. My probe, with a mind of its own, runs along the column of her neck, making her shiver. I can feel her heartbeat quickening, her breath growing shallower. Myantennae twitch, picking up the subtle shift in her emotions—anticipation, desire, a touch of nervous excitement.

My hands find their way to the hem of her shirt, pausing for a moment to give her a chance to stop me. When she doesn’t, I slip my fingers underneath, feeling the silken warmth of her skin as I slide the fabric up and over her head. She raises her arms, assisting me. The moment the offending piece of fabric has been ripped free, I toss it over my shoulder.

“I love your curves,” I whisper. Although I know it’s rude, I can’t tear my gaze off them. “They’re just too… pretty.” I wish I had better words, but maybe the look on my face tells her how much I mean them. Her skin is so soft, so inviting, and I can’t help but lean in, pressing gentle kisses along the swell of her breasts.

She arches against me, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulls me closer. Her desire, her responsiveness compounds my hunger as my cock kicks with urgent arousal. My probe flicks out, teasing her, tasting her salty sweetness. Her sharp intake of breath tells me I’m on the right track, and I continue my exploration, tracing patterns on her skin with my hands and probe.

I capture one taut peak between my lips. She moans softly, her hands clutching at my hair, pulling me closer. I oblige, letting my probe flick out, circling the delicate bud and then tugging it.

Her body responds to my touch, her back arching, pressing her breasts more firmly against my mouth. I can feel her heart racing, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. My wings flarebrighter, casting a warm, golden glow over her skin, highlighting every curve and contour.

I trail kisses down her stomach, my probe tasting every inch of her as if it were sacred ground. Her muscles quiver under my touch, her body already so responsive to my every caress. I reach the waistband of her panties, and I pause, looking up at her, seeking permission.

Chelsea’s eyes are hooded with desire, her lips parted, and she nods, a small, anticipatory smile playing at the corners of her mouth. I hook my fingers into the fabric and slowly pull them down, revealing more of her. She lifts her hips, helping me, and soon, she’s bare before me, completely open and trusting.

I want to taste her, give her pleasure, but my forward motion stops as I pause to take in the sight of her.

“So perfect.” I can’t believe she’s mine. “Will this ever get old, Chelsea? Because right now, I want to spread you wide and remind myself how pretty your pink folds are. Are you wet for me?”

I don’t need to ask. My nose tells me everything I need to know, but I want her to tell me, want us to be able to say anything to each other.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you check?”

This woman,mywoman, has no semblance of shyness. In fact, there’s a naughty challenge in her expression—her eyes luminous, her close-lipped smile a little lopsided.

For a moment, I conduct a heated inner debate, but it doesn’t last long. I don’t need to baby her. She walked into a nest of armed killers to rescue me. She can handle my lust.

Chapter Forty-Three

Riven

Gone are the sweet kisses and thoughtful words of a moment ago. Instead, I yank her thighs wide, rearrange my position, and press my face into her folds. I can’t talk. My lips and tongue are too busy tasting her. She’s addictive.

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