Page 50 of The Weaver

But it was different with Rekosh. There was something thrilling about being vulnerable and exposed in front of him. Something thrilling in the way his crimson eyes moved over her body. She trembled, and the arousal in her core intensified.

Rekosh took in a slow, deep breath that tapered off into a barely audible growl. His claspers shifted, drawing tight against his slit, and Ahmya’s blush blazed across her whole body, from head to toe.

He knows. He knows. Oh God, he knows.

Rekosh absently dropped her skirt beside her top. She could only watch as he spread his legs wider, forelegs moving to either side of her, and lowered himself.

“Kir’ani vi’keishi.” He trailed the back of a claw lightly along the line of tiny scars on her abdomen, making her flesh quiver. His hand continued downward to the scars on her thigh—the uppermost of which wasveryclose to her pussy.

She held her breath, afraid to move, afraid to make a sound. Afraid to fan the flames raging within her, lest she be consumed by them.

The light from outside dimmed, and the rain fell harder.

Rekosh bent forward, catching himself with his lower handsupon the ground as he moved his head close to her. Ahmya’s eyes flared. His breath was warm against the chilled skin of her belly, but it could not compare to the heat of his stare.

It was all she could do not to squirm, not to drop a hand to her sex and clamp her thighs around it.

It was all she could do not to beg him to puthishand there.

The half-trill, half-growl he released vibrated in the air between them, making it that much harder for Ahmya to retain control. He slid an upper hand around her thigh, hooking it behind her knee, and lifted her leg.

“Rekosh!” She wobbled and threw her hands out, bracing them on his shoulders.

His other upper arm slipped around Ahmya, and his big hand settled upon her ass to steady her. Her wildly beating heart hammered in her chest.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

With her leg up, and his face mere inches from her pussy, there wasnothingto shield her from his view.

“I have you,” Rekosh rasped, his breath tickling her pubic hair. He curled his fingers against her backside, pricking her skin with his claws. For what felt like an eternity, the two of them remained like that, with him so close to her, and Ahmya so close to giving in to her desires.

It would’ve been foolish to think Rekosh couldn’t smell her arousal, especially with his face right there.

He dropped his hand from her ass. She felt the strain in his body. Felt it under her hands, saw it in the play of muscle beneath his hide, in the twitching of his mandibles and the fine hairs standing on his legs. It was in every hot, ragged breath teasing her sex.

Just before her body could scream at her to take action, Rekosh plucked off her boot. He set it aside, lowered her leg, and repeated the process for her other foot.

But when he was done, he did not release her. He smoothedhis upper hands up her legs and settled them on her hips, where his fingers flexed on her ass.

All eight of his bright red eyes were focused intently upon her pussy.

He pressed his headcrest against her belly.

Ahmya’s breath hitched, and her eyes widened. She lifted her hands, uncertain of where to put them, of what to do or what to say. Uncertain of whathewas doing.

Tightening his hold, Rekosh drew her closer and inhaled deeply. A shudder wracked him, rippling through his long, lean body from top to bottom. He bent his right foreleg behind her. She felt its soft, tiny hairs as his hide rasped against her calves.

Not long ago, Ahmya would’ve recoiled from such a touch. Spiders were creepy, unsettling things, alien to her in their own way. The sight of one had been enough to send her fleeing from a room, and the mere thought of coming into physical contact with a spider had made her flesh crawl.

But Rekosh was not a spider. And though his touch made her feel many things, none of them were even remotely close to disgust.

What she felt most fiercely was need.

Rekosh rubbed his face against her belly, back and forth, again and again, releasing a sound not unlike a deep, rolling purr that vibrated into Ahmya. She bit down hard on her bottom lip to lock in a moan.

Slowly, she lowered her hands to the top of his head, slipping her fingers into his damp, silky hair. As his purring continued, stimulating her from the outside in, her clit thrummed, and her breath came in shallow pants. His mandibles spread, their fangs teasingly grazing her outer thighs.

“Rekosh…” she whispered. “What… What are you…”

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