Moth & Flame | Chapter Two
HELLA | PRESENT DAY
I lied. In the shadows, I did not remain. Did I mention I have very little impulse control? Hence, all the stalking of Mr. Draven Morainu. I tried to resist–really, I did. I spent months sneaking out of work and shirking my duties to haunt the vicinity of Moth & Flame, all in the hopes of catching a fleeting glance of the male. But it seems he rarely leaves the building—I’ve only caught him a handful of times. I can only assume he lives in one of the penthouses at the top of the towering stone-and-glass building.
When my patience finally dwindled away, I took the leap—conjured a disguise and slipped inside.
Draven is everything I’ve ever fucking dreamed of, even if I have to pretend not to know his name or anything about him. One of the numerous legal forms Moth & Flame clients are obligated to sign prior to membership states that all Masters and Mistresses of the house are forbidden from giving out their real names or personal details, to prevent any unwanted attention.
I am only ever allowed to refer to Draven as Master , Daddy, My Lord, or Sir— and for the last three months, I’ve spent nearly every evening after work sneaking into Moth & Flame in increasingly elaborate costumes, entering through VIP Members’ discreet alleyway entrance reserved for their more affluent clients who prefer their predilections to remain private. As they should.
As unfathomable as it seems, I’m his only personal client. One evening, after yet another four-hour session, I tried to make a subtle comment by saying, “Thank you for spending so much time with me. I’m sure you’ve had a very busy day with your other clients.” To my surprise, Draven replied, “You’re the only client I personally host.”
Each evening, our sessions are booked for one hour, and yet, by the time I leave, several hours have passed. I am also certain we’ve crossed a great many professional boundaries over the last three months, but much to my dismay, my master has yet to actually fuck me. Well, at least not with his cock. Or at least not the one attached to his body.
And while I have been on the receiving end of a very large, shadowy, lykos-shaped cock—bulging knot and all—I still haven’t gotten to experience the real thing. Much to my dismay.
Tonight, however, I will beg. If you thought grovelling was beneath me, you are very much mistaken. And while, admittedly, there isn’t anyone else in this realm I would get on my hands and knees for, there isn’t a thing in this dreary, lonely world I wouldn’t do for Daddy Draven Morainu.
Heaving a lovelorn sigh, I fix my gaze on the display screen where my singular photo of Draven lingers—a rather grainy image I managed to take myself when I’d just happened to catch him outside of his business. My mind travels to a time and place where I can escape my cursed fiancé, my foul family, and live a life beside Draven—if he’d have me.
My fantasizing is rudely cut short by an abrupt knock. My eyes reluctantly flick to the tall, blonde, slender silhouette I can see lurking beyond my office door: my sister.
Fuck.
Moth & Flame
Gothika & The Blackspire Empire, Book One
(a series of standalones)