DEMIGOD 12

  TINKERED STARSONG BOOK 2

  FLAMING STARSONG EXTRA SCENE

  GAIL CARRIGER

  G A I L C A R R I G E R, L L C

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, used in a fictitious manner, or in the public domain. Any resemblance to actual events or actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  WARNING

  This work may contain implied contact of a romantic and carnal nature between members of the same sex, opposite sex, sexless aliens, or more. If love (in its many forms) and love’s consequences (in even more varied forms) are likely to offend, please do not read this book. Miss Carriger has the tame young adult Finishing School series, which may be more to your taste. Thank you for your understanding, self-awareness, and self-control.

  Copyright © 2023 by GAIL CARRIGER LLC

  Cover © 2023 by GAIL CARRIGER LLC

  Cover design by Paul Sizer of Sizer Design + Illustration, PaulSizer.com

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, including the right to reproduce this book, or any portion thereof, in any form.

  This book is for your personal enjoyment only. If you are reading this book and it was not purchased for your use, then please purchase your own copy.

  In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the uploading, torrenting, or electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting publisher@gailcarriger.com

  The author strives to ensure her self-published works are available as widely as possible and at a price commensurate with her ability to earn a living. Thank you for respecting her hard work.

  Version 1.0

  9781944751722

  Demigod 12 Special Scene

  Wait, what am I reading?

  This is solely the extra sex scene from Demigod 12.

  This is a scene exists at the end of the first section of Chapter 10: Fear Ends Where Fixation Begins.

  If you like high heat, read on. but if you don’t like sexitimes, please feel free to skip, it adds to characterization and pleasure, not plot.

  You are reading this because you belong to Gail’s silly newsletter the Chirrup and this is one of the things you get for free because of that life choice.

  If you are reading this some other way, no tea for you. Go write a review of Demigod 12 as penance, you cheater you.

  CHAPTER 10: FEAR ENDS WHERE FIXATION BEGINS

  PHEX & MISSIT SPECIAL SCENE

  Missit was already waiting, coiled and eager.

  They didn’t use that booth to sing – it was more like a dance. Graceful and beautiful, and also awkward and uncomfortable – and brave, because it was their first practice of this kind. There were moments of perfect rhythm and coiled power. And moments of aching joy and synchronized connection. And moments of clumsiness and confusion, and bumps and bruises in the tiny space with amused laughter at the absurdity of the whole situation – where gods must act like criminals for the sake of kisses.

  Phex performed for the space, and what he thought Missit wanted from him. But that didn’t stop him from enjoying it, like exploring new ways to cantor or grace under a dome.

  “Who said you could start without me?” Phex crossed his arms, took in the prettiest sight of naked compact gold.

  Missit gasped and looked up. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”

  Phex tilted his head, arched a brow, and said nothing, just stared.

  Missit dropped his hand self-consciously, ashamed not of being naked but of doing something that displeased Phex.

  Phex loomed over him, feeling powerful and somehow dangerous. Missit was staring up, all hunger, arched neck, big eyes. He even licked his lips.

  Phex slid in behind him, pressed him up against the booth wall.

  “Have you done anything like this before?” he asked.

  Missit arched against him, eager. “Nooo, but I want…” He trailed off, pressed back.

  Phex bent his head and licked at a gold fleck on Missit’s shoulder. Kissed him there. “We aren’t doing that.”

  “But?”

  “We need product for that and I don’t have any.”

  “You’ve done this before, then?”

  Phex shook his head. “No, but I know the shape of my own desire, and I looked up the mechanics. I’m not a kid who has been trapped in a gilded Dyesi cage most of my life.”

  “I’m neither that ignorant nor that innocent.” Missit pouted – he didn’t like being an object of pity.

  To distract him, Phex reached around and began stroking him.

  Missit bucked against him, startled, then whining and eager. Apparently, he did this like he did most things, enthusiastic and cheerful – interested in the experience, eager for more.

  Phex found it all much easier than he expected. It was just like what he did for himself in the hygiene chamber, only with someone else. He experimented with grip and pace, like when they danced, finding a rhythm that seemed to drive Missit crazy. He found himself no longer really interested in his own desire, almost as if he were floating above his need, like oil on water. Instead, all he cared about was driving this crazy beautiful god in his arms insane with pleasure. This was better than a million worshipers under a dome, this single worship of one.

  But this meant that he forgot to account for his own desire at all. Until he was suddenly too close, rubbing up against all that warm, naked, silken skin.

  Fortunately for his pride’s sake, Missit fell apart first. Whimpering and arching out, then folding against him, giving Phex all his weight, weak-kneed and shivering. But not from cold.

  “Oh.” The surprise in Missit’s voice was Phex’s undoing.

  He found himself also tipping over the edge, blinding white pleasure and a weird kind of sadness.

  This was his first time not alone. There would be a fundamental shift in what and how he would shape desire from this point forward – lost independence. Sifted need.

  He stumbled slightly at the double sensation, pleasure and epiphany, still supporting Missit’s weight. The god in his arms merely followed him into the stumble, entirely trusting. He did not flinch or worry. That, more than anything, woke Phex up. What was he doing and what had they just done?

  He propped Missit up. “You can stand,” he accused.

  Missit did, light and balanced in his easy, elegant, alien way. He turned and pressed, front facing to Phex, buried his cold nose in Phex’s sternum.

  He looked sleepily pleased and vulnerable and wondering. “Will we do that again?”

  “Already?”

  “In the future?”

  “You still want more?” Phex worked hard to keep the lack of confidence out of his voice.

  “Yes, please.” Missit was back to being eager and unprompted. “I wanted you from the beginning.” Then his face fell and he went serious. “Can I kiss you?”

  As if that were somehow more intimate than what they had just done. Perhaps it was, to Missit. Phex had no way of knowing the truth of Missit’s desired intimacy without more practice or a dreaded but probably necessary conversation. He shuddered at the thought.

  Then he remembered how doing what he wanted had worked out and become what Missit wanted, so he did that again. Grabbed the god’s soft chin between finger and thumb, tilted him just so. Kissed him exactly how he needed to with soft lips, no tongue, lingering and tasting. Almost like they were still innocent. Which, perhaps, they were.

  Missit murmured unintelligibly.

  Phex sipped at the nonsense words with another light kiss.

  Missit whimpered.

  Phex decided it was one of his new favorite sounds and wondered at the colors that could result. Warm pinks or oranges, like sweet, ripe fruit colors that he could taste on Missit’s lips. Precious little flavored noises.

  “Again?” suggested Missit.

  Phex agreed, because he wanted to taste the color of the rest of Missit, not just his lips. This time he wanted to see Missit with his mouth, not just his hands.

  At some point, naked and sticky and fumbling and eager, Missit said the thing Phex never expected, and mostly dreaded hearing.

  “This is love, isn’t it?”

  Phex wasn’t sure if he was more scared that it was love or more scared that it was not. So he gave no answer. Also, his mouth was occupied at the time.

  Thank you so much for belonging to the Chirrup and reading Demigod 12.

  If you like my high heat stuff, consider the G.L. Carriger line of books. I have always been scared of writing sex scenes and because I am a little bonkers, I created a whole new identity to cope with that.

  I like the idea of, artistically, moving in the direction that requires the most courage, and for me that’s tongues and… well, you get it.

  Currently these are

  The 5th Gender

  excitable purple alien with tentacle hair the human detective who loves him

  The San Andreas Shifters Series

  Stand alone novels in which every werewolf is fabulous, full of blue jokes, raunchy sex, and gentle hearts

  You can find them and so much more at:

  GailCarriger.com

& nbsp; ABOUT THE WRITERBEAST

  New York Times bestselling author Gail Carriger (AKA G. L. Carriger) writes to cope with being raised in obscurity by an expatriate Brit and an incurable curmudgeon. She escaped small-town life and inadvertently acquired several degrees in higher learning, a fondness for cephalopods, and a chronic tea habit. She then traveled the historic cities of Europe, subsisting entirely on biscuits secreted in her handbag. She resides on the edge of the Pacific, surrounded by fantastic shoes, where she insists on tea imported from London.

 

 

  Gail Carriger, Demigod 12: Tinkered Starsong Book 2

  Thanks for reading the books on GrayCity.Net