Page 94 of Like A Moth To A Flame

“Scared?” his voice rumbled through the line, rough with an edge of hunger. “What’s troubling you, princess?”

I sighed, and for a moment, my fingers ceased their sinful waltz.

“Just… everything,” I said, and sincerity crept into my words. “About Barrett. All this time, I never knew.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his words low and genuine. I could feel it in the tone of his voice, and something about that made me feel safe in a way I couldn’t explain.

“You saved me,” I let out a soft sigh, savoring the sensation as I whispered into the phone. “It feels good to have someone protecting me.”

“I’ll always protect you, babygirl.”

I felt a rush of heat at his words, my cheeks flushing as I continued my exploration, making sure to put on a show for him. Even under the thin sheet, I knew he could see the movement of my hands through the camera.

I closed my eyes, letting the sensation of his words wash over me with a sense of comfort and security I hadn’t felt in a long time. A part of me wanted to believe him, to surrender to the promise of protection and care he offered so effortlessly.

But another part, a darker corner of my mind, whispered warnings of caution and doubt. Was this connection real, or just a fleeting fantasy born out of fear and uncertainty? I pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the warmth that bloomed in my chest at his words.

“I wish you were here right now,” I whispered into the phone, my voice low and sultry as I let my fingers roam with deliberate intent. Every touch sent a jolt of pleasure through me, heightening my senses as I imagined his reaction on the other end of the line.

“I wish that too, Moth,” he confessed.

“Why?” I asked, my voice barely a breath. “What would you do?”

“I would make you forget all about your fears. I would show you just how safe and protected you can be in my arms. I would treat you like the angel you are, and protect you like you deserve. Like a princess.” His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with desire and promise. “And then when we’re alone, and it’s just you and me, I’dfuck you like you’ve never been fucked before. I’d make you scream my name until the walls shook and that big empty house echoed with it, until you couldn’t remember a time when it was anyone else’s name on your lips, until all you could think about was how good I make you feel. Then when you were spent, drooling on the floor like a used-up little whore and you couldn’t handle anymore, I’d pound my seed so deep into your hole that it ended up in your womb, right where it belongs.”

His words hung in the air between us, heavy and charged with a hunger that matched my own. I felt a wild rush of desire surge through me, mingling with the fear and uncertainty that still clung to the edges of my mind. But in that moment, as his voice poured over me like honeyed velvet, I found myself craving his touch more than anything else.

“Do you want that, Moth?” he asked, his voice a low, throaty growl. “Do you want me to make you forget everything but how good it feels to be with me?”

“I want that,” I whispered, my voice trembling with longing. “I want to forget everything but you.”

The line crackled with tension as he let out a low gruff moan, a sound that reverberated through me and settled deep in the very pit of my belly. I closed my eyes, imagining his presence beside me, his hands trailing over my skin with practiced precision that left me aching and pleading for more. I bit my lip, feeling a rush of desire, unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

A low, rumbling chuckle echoed through the phone, stirring the air around me with a promise that sent a shiver down my spine. His voice dripped with a potent mix of desire and restraint as if hewere carefully balancing on the edge of a precipice, and it was only a matter of time until he went tumbling over into the black abyss.

Maybe it would be tomorrow.

“I have a present for you,” he said. “Look under the bed.”

Panic seized me for a moment, wondering if I had pushed too far. What was under the bed? Was he hiding there, waiting to reach out and grab me, and do all the things he’d promised me? Swallowing hard, I gently laid the phone across the pillowcase and sat up. Fingers trembling, I rose to my knees, not caring when the sheet slipped down the curve of my hip, leaving me exposed to the air—and to the camera. Leaning over the edge of the bed, my sandpaper tongue slid over my lips as I ducked my head, carefully peering into the shadows. What greeted me was a long, low shadow. With one trembling hand planted against the floor to keep me upright, I reached into the darkness and pulled it out.

It was a box, soft pink in the moonlight, and topped with a bow.

With narrowed eyes, I reached over and picked up the phone.

“What’s this?” I asked. I was almost afraid of the answer.

“Open it.”

With trembling hands, I untied the bow and lifted the lid of the box. Inside, nestled on a bed of velvet, was a stunning silver chain the pendant was a lock, complete with a keyhole, but shaped like a butterfly. Or maybe, judging by the antennae, it was really a moth? The delicate wings shimmered in the soft moonlight as I plucked it from the box way too big for such a small thing. It was deceivingly heavy as I turned it over in my fingers.

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed into the phone. The metal was cool against my skin, sending a shock through me that grounded me down to earth.

“Put it on,” he commanded, a hint of urgency underscoring his words.

I slipped it around my neck, a bit confused at first. It didn’t have a clasp—I didn’t think. Then, the moth fell into two pieces, and I understood. The lock was the clasp. I fastened it around my neck, pushing the pieces into place until they came together with a dull click that sounded terrifyingly final. A gentle tug told me everything I’d suspected.

It was locked.

---