Page 16 of Spider Demon's Kiss

“Let’s see,” I said fingering through my clothes. “Stella McCartney, Victoria Beckham? Armani would be a classic.”

When I saw it I knew. Alexander McQueen. Sleek and fierce. A girl had to make an impression on her first day. Would my new husband be there? Word was that he survived his little encounter with the deathies and was planning on heading home.

His new wife should be there to meet him, shouldn’t he? Framed in Alexander McQueen, I’ll greet him at the door, arms wide.

“It’s decided, Alexander McQueen. Pack up the rest,” I instructed my father’s men who insisted on seeing me off.

Choosing a pair of black panties from my drawer, I slipped into it and clad myself in McQueen. Being the diva, I made my makeup Douyin. And completing the look, I chose a selection of feathers for my hair.Staring at myself in the mirror, I wanted him to see me. This look couldn’t be wasted.

How many nights would we be able to share together before he was dead? He almost didn’t last our wedding day. It would have been a shame too considering our kiss.

And let me tell you, that kiss… My tongue has been down a lot of straight men’s throats. None of them made me feel like that. It was enough to give a girl hope.

Wasn’t that how all marriages should start, full of hope and promise. I was a blushing bride, after all. And he, my dear Dante, was my big bad wolf.

Remembering the kiss again, I lost myself in the memory. How had he made me feel what I had? I had kissed him to unnerve him, to throw him off. Instead, I felt something.

Can you imagine me feeling something? Didn’t feelings things go out of fashion in the 80s? Then again, retro chic was all the rage.

With a trunk of my essentials packed, I was loaded into my father’s helicopter and flown to the city. Where did my betrothed live, I wondered? Landing on a downtown rooftop heliport, I was delighted to learn that it was in the city. I would have hated to have to scurry across town to go to my usually spots.

But now that I was a wife, perhaps my life would change. Would I still shut down Manhattan hot spots when I had wifely duties to fulfill? Perhaps instead, I would make him dinner every night losing myself in marital bliss. It would be me and my hubby together taking on the world.

My glorious fantasy ended when I arrived at his building looking like I stepped off a runway and the man at the building’s desk tried to stop me from getting onto the elevator. Did I think about cutting his throat as he droned on about not being on the list? Of course. Why didn’t I? Hello, Alexander McQueen!

Instead, my father’s men broke a few fingers, took his key and ushered me up. The elevator opened to his apartment. Staring at the surprisingly tasteful décor, open space, and the central park view from the wall-length sliding glass doors, I didn’t hate it.

“This will do,” I said instructing the men to deposit my belongings in the living room and be off.

Once alone, I looked around at the place again. Immediately I saw how someone could be thrown from the balcony, deboned with the knives in the kitchen, and suffocated by any of the surprising large selection of throw pillows.

For exits, there was only one way out, the elevator. Buildings like this required a second exit for fire safety purposes. I’d have to figure out where that was.

Now here was the most important question. Did he have security cameras? Everyone under the age of 70 in his situation would. My father, as stuck in the old country as he was, had a camera in every room. Even mine.

When I ripped it down, his men would put it back up.It annoyed me until I discovered how much I enjoyed putting on a show. What made it better was that I didn’t know who was watching or if anyone was watching at all. When I did see someone react differently to me after a particularly vigorous show, I waited until they were alone and marked them.

Nothing dramatic. I just gave them a small vertical cut under their left eye. In a few months, most people would barely notice the scar. But he would know it was there and would never forget. They never ruined my fantasies again after that.

So, did my husband have cameras tossed about? Slowly circling the space, I had to find out. The living room was spacious and cream-colored luxury, but camera free. The kitchen was modern and looked surprisingly used, but still, there was nothing that recorded.

There were three bedrooms to choose from. Two were unoccupied guest rooms with king-sized beds but no cameras. And finally, his bedroom.

I got a little rush walking towards it. What would the bedroom of a man who kissed like that look like?The answer, it looked like sex.

There was a scent in the air. Was it his? It ripped through me raking my insides. A wave of heat billowed around my neck and spiraled down ending in my crotch. I was so hard it hurt.

More than that, there wasn’t a camera in the place. Not just his bedroom, the entire flat. There could be only one reasonfor that. My hubby did things here that he didn’t want recorded. And, that kiss…

Oh, I was going to fuck him. I would peel back Tom Ford, grab hold of what slithered out and suffocate it with my throat. I would become one of his secrets. Looking around at the space again, there was no question, this would work out quite nicely.

Hearing a chime that drew my attention to the elevator, I nearly choked. He was here. My husband had arrived. There was nothing that made me nervous but hearing it, my legs shook. Look at me, the virgin bride.

Searching for the bathroom, I rushed into it and checked my face. I wanted to look perfect. Well, maybe not perfect, but my makeup had to be flawless. Adjusting the creases on my suit, I gathered myself, walked back to the bedroom’s door and presented myself to him.

I saw him before he saw me. I used the extra time to pose in the doorframe. This would be his first impression. The pose had to be dramatic. It was. And when he turned around and our eyes met, he froze.

It was like the moment before our kiss. I could see into him. He was rage and fire under molten crust. At any moment he could explode. Feeling his fury rubble to the surface, I inhaled trembling and…

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