Page 38 of Claimed By the Mothman (Greymarket Towers #1)

Nell wiped it away with the back of her hand, made a face, and sighed.

“Okay, look—shower sex is sexy in theory, but steam is basically plotting against me,” she muttered, blinking as more water ran directly into her eyes.

“I’m over here trying to be seductive, but I’m getting ambushed by condensation. ”

Sig tilted his head, antennae twitching. “Are you under siege?”

“No,” she said, and coughed as a bead of water trickled down her throat.. “Just—damp and flustered and really horny right now.”

He churred in understanding.

“And yet,” she added, her tone dropping to something low and charged, “If you’re not turned off by that, I still plan on getting exactly what I want.”

Her hands brushed along the subtle seam just below Sig’s pelvis. He made a low, startled sound.

She did it again, slower this time and then leaned in to press her lips against it, letting her breath whisper down the center of him. His claspers extended with a sudden, needy twitch, grasping reflexively for something to hold.

Beneath her mouth, his length began to emerge, dark, thick, and pulsing with heat. It slid free from the sheath in increments, longer, fuller, until it arched toward her with unmistakable intent.

She looked up at him, eyes wide and shining. “Don’t move.”

The head of him was slick, flushed darker than the base, with a faint shimmer where the heat was most concentrated. She let her lips brush against it without taking him in. Just a kiss.

One clawed hand reached out, hovered beside her cheek, then pulled back as if afraid his touch would break her concentration.

Nell’s tongue flickered out and she licked the length of him, long and slow, from base to tip. He shuddered, knees buckling slightly, his wings twitching where they curled tight against the stall.

“Gods,” he breathed, his voice glitching at the edges. “You are worshipping me.”

She smiled, dragged her tongue against his length in a long, slow, flick, and then opened her mouth and took the tip of him in. Then deeper. Inch by inch, until her lips met the ridge of his sheath and her hands gripped the backs of his thighs to steady herself.

Sig clicked low and sharp, tangling a hand in her hair.

Nell hummed around him, tongue working slowly, purposefully.

Every move of her tongue was devotion. Every press of her lips a vow.

Her jaw ached and she didn’t care. The stretch, the taste, the weight of him in her mouth—it made her feel drunk with power, with reverence, with love .

“You would take all of me.” A trill of tension escaped him, raw and insectile, “You would let me spill in your mouth as if it would satiate your hunger.”

She moaned, the sound vibrating through her throat as she took him deeper. The feel of him, hot and slick and impossibly alive, filled her with something close to awe. Every ridge, every twitch of his cock was a revelation.

“No.” His voice snapped the air like a whip. He moved back just far enough to pull from her mouth.

She looked up at him, dazed. Water trailed down his face like tears. His pupils were blown wide, glowing dimly in the steam. His chest heaved.

“I will not finish like this,” he said, his voice vibrating with restraint. “Not in your mouth. Not when I can be inside you.”

He reached down and brushed the backs of his claws against her cheeks “When I am undone,” he murmured, “when I give in to the pull, I wish to be buried in you. Later, when you are limp and trembling, I may allow you to finish what you have begun.”

She reached for his hand and he pulled her up like she weighed nothing.

Her skin slid against his chest as he cradled her upright.

He bent, his spine shifting subtly, his shoulders angling with a grace that felt almost serpentine.

His antennae dipped forward, brushing lightly against her forehead as he brought his face down to hers and gently kissed her.

His mouth moved against hers tenderly and she melted into him, arms winding around his neck as fingertips brushed against the damp fuzz at his nape. His tongue slid out, gently teasing her lips open, and—

—she sneezed. Violently.

Nell jerked back with a startled yelp, hand flying to her face. “Oh gods. Sorry—I—there was water in my—ugh, my nose—”

Sig dashed water from his eyes. Then made his strange, deep, chuffing laugh.

She groaned, face flaming. “This is so not sexy.”

He leaned in again, brushing his mouth just beneath her ear. “Then let us correct that.”

In one seamless motion, he spun her gently to face the wall, pressing her palms flat against the tile. Her breath caught as he stepped up behind her, body fitting flush against hers, his cock hot and heavy against her back.

He slid a hand down her until his fingers dipped into the wet heat between her thighs. Nell whimpered as he teased her open.

“Nell,” he whispered. “I will never tire of this— of you. ”

He bucked forward with one deep, devastating thrust and she howled, rearing back against him, sinking him as far as he could go into her body.

He withdrew and drove into her again, harder this time, and he began to move like a creature possessed.

His rhythmic thrusts became faster, needier, each snap of his hips a broken hallelujah .

Panting, Nell reached back, fingers scrabbling desperate to touch him. Her hand found his thigh, the tense muscle flexing with every grind. She dragged her fingers to where they were joined, reveling in the feel of him drawing in and out, claiming her, wrecking her.

He clicked, sharply, then pulled out from her. She let out a raw groan of protest, but before she could turn, his hands were already on her waist, firm and trembling.

“I need your face.” Sig’s voice throbbed between registers, not quite stable. “I need to see you break. ”

With a heave, he lifted her, slamming her back against the wall—and into the shower dial.

“ FUCK—OW! ”

“Nell!” Horror and arousal colliding in his voice. “You are harmed! Did I—?”

“No,” she choked, somewhere between laughter and agony. “Just— wrong wall! The knob’s in my spine! ”

Sig’s eyes were wild with panic and remorse. “Must we stop, beloved?”

“No, no, just—but like— over there. ” She flailed an arm toward a safer patch of tile.

He muttered something sharp and clicky in his language. The water shattered across his back as he turned, carefully this time, and slammed her against a safer wall.

“Better?” he rumbled.

“Yes,” she hissed into his ear, curling her arm around his neck.

He was back inside her in one brutal, perfect thrust, holding her up with effortless strength, one clasper curled around her thigh for balance as the other stroked slow devotion into her ribs.

“You are everything. My ruin. My reason. My beloved— mine. ” He kissed her throat and drove into her harder, fuller, further, until she splintered.

“ Sig— ” Her body locked down around him like a vice.

His hips rolled as he broke into clicks and Harbinger-tongue. “Yes,” he groaned, voice fraying. “Shine for me. Shake. Give me all of you—”

Nell’s second orgasm hit like a thunderclap—blistering, brutal, instant. Her entire body seized, limbs locking, spine arching, mouth falling open as she wailed.

His wings flaring wide, Sig drove into her one last time, a keening trill breaking from his throat.

His cock pulsed deep within her and Nell felt his release flooding through her, filling.

His claspers locked tight, arms crushing her to him, every muscle drawn taut as he trembled through it.

He knotted and she came undone again, one last wrenching climax that cracked her open like a fault line.

Her head fell back. Her breath stuttered out in a single, broken moan.

It was divine. It was devastating. It was—

“Ow,” she croaked.

Sig stilled. “Was that good pain or wrong pain?” he asked, instantly grave. The concern in his voice was hilarious and holy all at once.

“Bit of both,” Nell wheezed.

Sig made a horrified clicking sound. “I deeply regret the shower dial incident. I have failed you. May the gods smite me where I stand.”

“You’re still inside me. Please don’t get smote.”

“…Fair,” he muttered. “Permission to reposition?”

“Granted.”

He peeled them away from the wall carefully. Still very, very knotted.

And she giggled— actually giggled —as he twisted and sat on the shower bench with over-serious precision.

“My back’s gonna file a formal complaint.” She drew a deep breath, which turned into a gasp, and then a hiss of pain. “At least the multiple orgasms softened the blow.”

“I am relieved.” A pause. Then, with a churr of promise: “But next time, we use the bed.”

Her head thunked gently against his shoulder. “Excellent idea.”

They stayed like that. Trembling. Locked. Wrapped in steam and aftershock. The water beat down around them, but his wings arched out in a loose canopy, shielding them and giving her space to breathe even as the heat pressed in.

He grunted with effort and made a small flex. The claspers at her hips reluctantly, but gently, unhooked.

Her eyes flew up to his. “You were able to control it this time?”

He drew a deep breath and lifted one hand to brush a soaked strand of hair from her face. “Barely,” he admitted. “It took focus, but I knew we had plans.”

“So considerate of you. Detaching your weird bug dick so we can go on a date. How modern.”

He chittered affectionately and kissed her, slow and deep and melting. “Let us get you clean now. Before I forget myself again.”

She smiled, utterly undone. “Deal.”

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