Page 17 of Song of Lorelei

Clearing his throat, Killian picked up his gym bag. “I’m out,” he told Branson.

“Okay, see you later, man.” He clapped him on the back but didn’t look up from his phone. Whatever it was put a goofy smile on his face.

Within the safety of his truck, Killian typed back, ‘Dammit woman. You got me hard as a rock at the gym.’

As soon as he got home, he made a b-line for the shower.

If it hadn’t been months since he and Lorelei had last talked like this, stress being a supremely vicious libido killer, he wouldn’t have dropped out midway through his workout routine to run home to jack off.

His erection hadn’t gone down even a little on the drive home.

Stripping off his sweaty gym clothes, he turned on the hot water. As steam filled the bathroom, Killian gave himself a slow, tentative jerk, and checked whether Lorelei responded.

There was one message sent ten minutes ago. Poor thing. Let me know when you’re alone. I’ll send you something ;)

I’m alone.

Her response was immediate. One minute.

While waiting for her reply, Killian stepped into the shower, careful to keep his phone from getting wet. He laid it down on one of the outside corners and squeezed a generous amount of body wash into the palm of his hand.

His phone vibrated against the porcelain as he slathered soap all over his dick. With the hand not covered in soap, he swiped up on his phone screen to see the new picture she’d sent. A choked groan rumbled from the back of his throat. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the cold tile.

His soon-to-be wife was hot.

There were better, more poetic ways to describe Lorelei, but his downstairs brain was firing on all cylinders, and his upstairs brain couldn’t give him more than a three-lettered word and caveman grunts.

She’d snuck away to the bathroom and unbuttoned her blouse to show him the lacy bra underneath, bursting bright with the color of ripe cranberries. Her grey slacks were unbuttoned, too, and half unzipped with one thumb hooked into the waistband of her black panties, teasing the soft, intimate stretch of skin below her navel.

The photo was accompanied with the text, Any requests?

Every inch of his skin tingled with anticipation.

‘So beautiful. Let me see those lovely tits.’

She teased her cleavage with her ring finger in the next photo. ‘They are right here.’ He growled. If she were somewhere in this house, he'd march his buck-naked ass right out of this shower, bend her over his knee, and spank her bottom pink for that wise remark. And oh, how it riled him up, seeing that band of gold featured in each shot. Lorelei must have known it, too.

Pull down the lace for me.

Though his flesh throbbed, he kept his strokes long and languid. Waiting for more was torturous, but he knew Lorelei would give it to him. Although they were in the middle of breaking a sexual drought right now, they’d learned a lot about each other’s bodies in the months preceding. Hers burned hottest when he whispered filthy things in her ear.

For him, it was when she showed the parts of her that weren’t human. But this ring flashing was coming in at a very, very close second.

His phone vibrated with another photo.

Lace shoved down, Lorelei cupped the underside of her breast and pushed up, one stiff, rosy peak pinched between finger and thumb. He imagined her claws were out, too, and her head tipped back mid-moan, wicked sharp teeth on display.

Lightning raced up the base of his spine.

Widening his stance, he fucked into his hand, slippery flesh gliding through palm, imagining he was pistoning into this dangerous sea goddess instead. He’d only taken her in full siren form once, and while he’d been quite nervous about it at the time, he longed to do it again.

Scales slid back at her front to reveal a pearly, petaled seam, smooth like the inside of a seashell and beaded with dewy pleasure. The feel of her was a little different. Inside, she was softer, plusher. Her swollen inner flesh ensconced him, creating a watertight seal that greedily milked every drop of his pleasure.

When he didn’t respond right away, she messaged, you like that don’t you?

Groaning, he typed out a simple ‘yes,’ because ‘I want to fuck your tail so bad and come to the sound of your siren song’ was too wordy, and he wasn’t about to drop his dick to type it.

What do I get in return?

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