Page 47 of Claimed By the Mothman (Greymarket Towers #1)

One moment, she was above him. The next, the world flipped. Nell gasped as her back hit the bed, limbs splaying, breath punching from her lungs.

“Wicked thing,” Sig growled as he towered above her, a wall of muscle and heat and need barely held in check. His claws gripped her thighs. “You deny me the pleasure of touching you.”

With one rough motion, he shoved her legs wide. She choked on breath, because— gods —the sight of him between her thighs, barely restrained, was enough to undo her all over again.

“I will take my revenge now,” he snarled, lowering his head to her core and pausing just above her wet, pulsing center. “Now, it is your turn to beg.”

His arms hooked under her knees and, with one brutal tug, he dragged her legs over his shoulders, repositioning her like prey, like offering.

Then he bent low and began to feast. He devoured her with his tongue, each stroke hungry and unrelenting.

Clicks and chittering sounds spilled from him, vibrating against her skin.

Nell wailed as his proboscis unfurled and curled against her clit, pulsing and flicking with ruthless intent, as if punishing her for daring to come without him. Sig let out a low, vibrating trill, as he gripped her tighter, anchoring her to his mouth like he meant to consume her completely.

Her mark flared in response, glowing hot across her skin, a surge of bondheat sparking with every flick of his tongue.

Pleasure detonated inside her, fast and blinding, her body clenching around his tongue, her breath tearing free in a sob. But he didn’t stop. His mouth worked with merciless rhythm, driving her through it, past it, into something raw and uncharted.

She shattered again, her body convulsing beneath him. And then again, maybe—maybe not. Climax had ceased to be a destination, and was now a place she existed in, spread open and ruined gloriously.

At last, Sig lifted his head and pulled away. His mouth glistened with her, and his red eyes burned in lustful fury.

“You are not done.” He descended, claiming her mouth with his. Tongue and proboscis invaded with the same ravenous greed he’d just poured between her thighs.

Nell threw her arms around his neck in surrender, but he caught them and pinned them down as he loomed above her.

“Beg me to use you,” he thundered.

—

“Please,” Nell gasped. “Use me.”

Sig reared up with a hiss of breath, gripped her hips, and flipped her onto her hands and knees, her hair spilling forward in a curtain. He was on her in the next heartbeat, hands locking over the meat of her hips with something between reverence and possession.

A churr erupted from his throat, nearly swallowed by the crackling resonance that thrummed beneath, and he drove into her, hard and to the hilt. And oh, the feel of her—wet, tight, trembling, and alive with bondheat—nearly unmade him on the first thrust.

Nell cried out, arching into him as he withdrew and thrust again, deeper this time. He set a punishing pace of restraint, slow and deliberate, dragging every textured spiral of himself through her pulsing heat as he savored the way she clenched around him like her body never meant to let him go.

“I will fill you and leave you dripping with me,” he rumbled as he sank into her, savoring every trembling inch. “So the Lustrum will know. So you will know. That you are mine , and mine alone.”

The bond flared, their marks pulsing in tandem. Sig bowed over her back, his hands moving from her hips to clutch her shoulders. “Break for me, beloved,” he breathed against her neck.

And she did. Her cry rose wild from her throat, broken and breathtaking, as if something inside her had been torn open to let the light in.

Sig didn’t stop. His rhythm stayed relentless, dragging her through climax after climax until sensation blurred at the edges, until it scorched , until she was sobbing, radiant, his .

He reached a hand forward and pressed it to her chest, between her breasts, right over the frantic beat of her heart.

“I feel you here,” he whispered. “Even if the building takes you. Even if the bond breaks. I will still feel it.” His voice fractured, just once. “And I will find you again.”

—

His hips drove into hers again and again, brutal and inexorable.

One hand slid between her thighs, finding the throbbing ache of her clit, fingers circling in perfect time with each thrust. Nell couldn’t think.

Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t exist beyond this.

Her hand reached back blindly, searching for the point where their bodies met, needing to anchor herself at the edge of unraveling.

Their marks ignited, and light seared across her skin as her body locked around him.

He thrust once, twice, then came with a resonant, thrumming cry that shook the air.

His wings snapped wide, gusting wind through the room so fiercely a pillow lifted from the bed.

His cock pulsed inside her in thick waves, and she came with him, one final time.

His claspers clamped tight around her hips, holding her through it, just shy of bruising.

They collapsed together with a shudder, into sweat and tangled limbs. Flesh to chitin. Bond and breath mingling. Sig folded around her, gently this time, stroking her skin with dazed reverence.

“Sig,” Nell whispered.

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I would die for this,” he breathed in a voice broken by all they had done. “I would give the last of myself if it meant you would never have to walk through that door.”

She turned just enough to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t speak of endings.”

A tremor shook his body.

“But if the end comes,” she breathed, “I still would choose this. A thousand times.”

He chittered and flattened one clawed hand over her belly. Nell threaded their fingers together and pulled their joined hands to her heart.

‘I will walk with you into the Lustrum tomorrow,” he whispered into her ear. “I will not let you face it alone.”

“You don’t have to,” she said.

“I do.”

Her throat tightened. She squeezed his hand.

They breathed together like that in sync, in stillness, until his claspers loosened and slid away from her hips.

Nell turned to face him, eyes beginning to shimmer.

She pressed her forehead to his and a single tear slipped down her cheek.

Sig brushed it away with the back of his knuckle so gently she almost didn’t feel it.

“If we don’t make it out,” she whispered, “I want you to know that I love you. With all of me. I believe I loved you before we ever met.”

His voice came back softly, steady and sure. “If this is the last night we have, then know this, beloved. My soul will remember you forever and love you twice beyond that.”