Moth to Her Flame (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

C helsea

I wake with a start and grab my phone to see what time it is. Everyone else knows the time of day by the way the crystals pulse, but I haven’t gotten the hang of that yet.

Three in the morning. Instead of a live broadcast, I played re-runs of an old Flat Earth episode. If I were back in my cabin, I would be wrapping up my show right about now.

My mini-nap gave me energy, so much so that I want to get up and move, either pace or explore this cavernous mountain. I decide to do neither.

I know what Riven needs, and I know what I want. I can’t deny my attraction. It’s been pulsing between us since before I urged him to quit sleeping in the car and invited him to use my sofa.

If it didn’t mean forever, I might have sex with him. But this is too big of a decision to make on a whim. There are other things we can do, though. Things I’ve been fantasizing about. I can’t help but believe that what I have in mind will energize him.

He’s dead tired and weak. I hate to feel like I’m taking advantage, but perhaps if I ease him into it, he’ll agree to our next step. One thing is certain, I’m going to try.

I’d taken my bra off before I crashed, but I’m still wearing a t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. He’s shirtless, wearing nothing but jeans.

The male isn’t human. If nothing else proves that, his tendril-thin, dexterous tongue certainly does. I can’t help but wonder what he’s hiding in his pants.

I lie on my side, snuggle close, and simply look at him for a while. We’ve been in close quarters for weeks, but with him asleep, I have the opportunity to really take his measure.

As I look at him now, for the life of me, I don’t know why he icked me out so bad when we first met. His facial features are perfectly symmetrical with a square jaw, high cheekbones, and lush lips.

When we kissed, my fingertips explored the little feathers on his forehead and the longer ones that circle his neck and trail to a V on his chest. Now, though, I feel I have free rein to touch and inspect them. That’s not too pervy, right?

They’re soft, not wiry at all. I pet him for a moment, allowing my fingertips to explore the areas above his eyes and at his neck. I recall the noises he made as he braided my hair for the first time. I almost wondered if he was going to orgasm just from that.

Now I understand because I feel the same way. It’s so sensuous to touch and stroke. I allow the affection I’ve been tamping down for weeks to express itself. At first, it comes out in a trickle, then it explodes, starting at the tips of my fingers and flying at lightning speed to my heart.

I care for this male. He’s done everything in his power to keep me safe, nurture me, and support me. I have the strongest urge to do the same for him.

My gaze trails down his body, curious and eager. His chest is dusted with fine, golden hair that catches the soft luminescence of the crystals in the walls.

I straddle him, keeping the two thick quilts between us. Just as he has always made sure to have my consent, I want to offer the same thing to him. But surely, it wouldn’t be inappropriate for me to snuggle him, would it?

Leaning low, I rub my cheek on the furry pelt on his chest, keeping back my moan of appreciation. I nuzzle it with my nose, capturing his scent in some primitive desire to cover myself in it, be drenched in it.

“You’re a handsome male, Riven,” I whisper, protecting his slumber even as a selfish part of me wishes he would wake up and kiss me… and more.

Sitting up, I slide my fingers through his long hair. The amber layers remind me of 80s hair bands. I’ve got to admit, even a mullet would look good on him.

My nipples are tight, two hard beads pressing against my gray tee. Just these chaste movements have me dripping for him.

I’ll keep this up, maybe speak a little louder, and see if my sleeping Mothman might wake up.

Pressing my palm to his face, I tuck my lips close to his ear and tell him what I’ve been fantasizing about for days.

“I’ve started to think about you as I pleasure myself, Riven.” This embarrasses me so much, I think no sound came out with my words, only breath. “I’ve lain in bed at night straining to hear if perhaps you were doing the same thing on the couch in my living room.

I’m trying not to grind on him. That would be over the imaginary line I’ve decided upon. But still, the desire to rub against him is growing urgent.

“I want you in my mouth, Riven.” My demands are growing louder. In response, his antennae twitch. “I want to suck you, Mothman. I want to taste you.”

I can see his eyes moving now beneath his lids. He’s swimming up from sleep. Will he be angry or thrilled to wake up to me spread wide across his hips?

“Would you like that, Riven? Would you like my mouth on you?”

With that, his eyes flare open and he seems instantly awake. His gaze arrows to mine as his mouth pops open. His wings are as brilliant as if they’re on fire.

“Chelsea?”

So many questions in that one word. He doesn’t need to ask them out loud. I’ll supply all the answers.

“I want to make you feel good. I’d like to see your body. All of it. And, Riven, I’d like to lick you all over.”

“Chels—”

I press a finger over his lips.

“Ask me to leave and I will. You need only say one word. But I’d prefer we not discuss it. Let me just say I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want this.”

He pulls my finger from his lips and maneuvers my palm over his mouth. There, he delivers the sweetest, hottest kiss in the history of the world. It’s full of promise and desire and when that slim probe dances there, half tickle, half devilish tease, I finally give in to the pounding urge to ride the hard ridge between his legs.

We’re separated by my flannel pants, his jeans, and two quilts, and yet this position is so hot I decide to stop before I come prematurely.

“Let me put my mouth on you, here.” I press my palm, feather-soft, on his arousal, leaving no doubt about exactly what I want.

“I would love that, Chels. I’ve dreamed of it, both awake and asleep. You told me not to ask questions, to take you at your word that you know what you want. But, Chelsea, before we go farther, you need to know… I’m not built like a man.”