Page 28 of Moth Manager
“Oh crap! That's so cool!” she yells. “What a genius idea!”
I chuckle. Her joy is so infectious. Her hand splays across my chest, warm, gentle. She likes me, and the simple touch has me purring. She shifts her position slightly and I know why. Every time I purr, her scent changes, tinting with arousal. I turn her on. Me.
“Sorry, I’m a bit of a tech nerd,” she interrupts my thoughts.
She’s so sexy.
“Same.” I squeeze her shoulder.
“So, what are we watching?” she asks.
“Well, I think there’s only one choice.” I move my tablet so that my movie selection will be a surprise. I receive a satisfying gasp when the opening credits of The Mummy starts playing.
“Absolutely!” she announces settling into the crook of my arm. She rearranges to see the screen slightly better and ends up with her head on my chest. I selfishly let loose small purrs enjoying the way her body reacts to me. My fingers trace little circles along the naked skin of her shoulder. I can’t stop touching her. Being together feels so surprisingly easy. I knew having a mate would feel good, but I never imagined quiet moments of bliss like this.
By the time Rachel Weisz is knocking over bookcases, which are inexplicably placed in a perfect circle, Piper has rolled over and stuck her tongue down my throat.
By the time Imhotep is stealing tongues, I have my tongue between her legs again, attaching myself to that perfect spot that has her screaming and flying from the bed. I could do this forever. Please my mate. Feed on her nectar. Live off the beautiful noises that she makes and the perfect way she smells.
She eventually has to pull my face away from her pussy and catch her breath. “Don’t you ever get tired of that?”
“Mothmen have a lot of stamina.” I grin, wiping her juices from my face. I would do this for her every day if she would let me.
“Well, you are really, really good at it.” She swipes a hand across my cheek and I nuzzle her palm. Her casual touches are like a drug I didn’t know I needed. I purr into her grip.
“Are you sure it was enough? There aren’t any tears this time,” I tease.
She releases my face and rolls from the bed with a laugh.
“Let me get a glass of water and we can get to your part.” She picks up a random shirt from the floor and pulls it on. It’s my shirt. My specially fitted Spock costume. The fasteners that kept it around my wings mean it neither fits her well, nor covers much. Not that I’m complaining. She looks good in my clothing. She belongs in it.
“That’s alright.” I wave a dismissive hand, hungrily tracking her movements across the room. If I watch closely I can see the way her ass jiggles with every step she takes.
“Are you sure?” Her eyebrow raises. “You don’t want to fuck again? You took care of me several times. I’m happy to return the favor.”
My aedeagus is straining at my seam. I want to take her again. I would love to fill her with my cum, to fuck her on every surface of my apartment. It’s unfortunately impossible, I know how humans work.
“I know humans aren’t a big fan of—it.” I gesture vaguely toward the space between my legs.
She laughs as she opens a cupboard looking for a glass, and pauses when I don’t respond the same. “You aren’t joking?”
I shrug. “It’s okay if you don’t want to do it again.”
She shakes her head. “Well, I was definitely a fan. You are good at sex. Like really, really, good at it. Like the best I’ve ever had.” Her words make my heart swell. Her face slowly turning red as she opens more cupboard doors at random, circling the kitchen aimlessly.
I enjoy watching her reach for the higher shelves, the way that my shirt raises up to show a couple extra inches of her ass every time. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“You are shockingly good for someone who claims to have never—” She stops herself from talking. “You’ve dated humans? But no sex?”
My wings flutter nervously, my antennae folding back to my head.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m just a nosy person.” She sighs loudly. “None of my business what your body count is.”
“I’ve dated a few humans. We didn’t participate in penetrative sex.” I say quickly so I can’t stop myself. The truth is difficult to speak. I pull myself from the bed, needing to be near her again.
“Oh, sure. Nothing wrong with that. There’s lots of types of sex,” she mutters, having opened every cabinet in my kitchen multiple times she stops and stands completely still.
I put one gentle hand at my mate’s waist and reach over her head to open a cabinet, pulling a glass from its shelf. As I give it to her I catch her hands to hold her still.
