Page 45 of The Unseelie War
She lifted her hips as much as she could, but she was caught fast—trapped in his golden web. Trapped in the grasp of his claspers. In the grip of his hand that he threaded into her hair to yank her head back and force her mouth open to tangle his tongue with hers.
His claspers tightened around her upper thighs to pin her body flush to his hips. She might as well have been bound to him by iron rods. Every inch of her was straining to take him—and there was more of him left.
And he hadn’t even started tomove.
She moaned against him, pleasure rushing through her body. Theburning fire of his venom, the sound of the strange, inhumanclickingand growling that still echoed from him. It was too much.
Ecstasy crashed over her in an unexpected wave, her body tightening around him in a spasm as she wailed, muffled against his lips.
He broke away, looking down at her, smiling in pride. “Look at you, my little Weaver…coming undone so quickly…?”
She couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t focus on his words. Couldn’t focus on anything excepthim,and how good he felt, buried inside her. And that there wasmore.More that he wasn’tgiving her.“Please…”
The feeling of him in her body withdrew until only the tip remained—but he didn’t move. The claspers held her pinned tight to him. His hips never left her. His legs never shifted on the web.
She blinked in confusion.
He grinned, vicious and more than a little cruel. “As you wish.” All at once he surged back into her body—once morewithout moving.She jerked with the force of it, but he hadn’t moved. Only?—
Looking down to where they were joined, she remembered that he could control it—and—oh god—the claspers made sense now, she supposed. A lot of things made sense now. A spider on a web having sex like apersonwould tear a web to shreds, wouldn’t it? He withdrew almost all the way before slamming into her again. Pleasure crashed over her, all lightning and fire, and she let out a strangled, wailing cry.
He laughed, quiet and dark. “My beautiful Weaver…do you understand, now?” He shifted, leaning back, so that he could watch her, gazing down at them as she jolted in his strands, while he stayed still—yet pistoned inside her like amachine.
Her breaths were coming in ragged gasps. It felt beyond perfect—the venom that coursed through her, the way he filled her. Completed her. How long they went on like that, she had no idea, with him stroking her body reverently and cruelly in equal measure with his hands.
Again and again, countless times, through the haze of the poisonthat rampaged through her mind, she met pure bliss as he made good on his threats.
Or so she thought.
Turns out…he hadn’t even begun.
His two front legs shifted to position him better, and the threads holding her suspended lifted her. Before she could even process what was happening, up became down, and she was suddenly face-down on a tight span of golden webs, several feet off the ground, her hips above her.
She felt the claspers hook over her thighs where they joined her hips, pulling her flush to his body.
“Now that you aretrulyready for me…” His hand was in her hair, pinning her head to the tight network of strands.
What happened next was a blur.
She felt him inside her. There wasso much of him.Again, and again. Filling her. Painting the insides of her with him. Claiming her. She remembered crying out his name.
And when that promisedthingat his base threatened her with entry, she felt nothing but a raw, primal, roaring need for it. She might have even begged him. It had been a white-hot pleasure that had emptied out everything from her when it had finally slid its way inside, when he had gone deeper into her body than should have been possible. When he had truly claimed her.
The pleasure had been unlike anything she had experienced before in her life. Anything she had ever thought was possible. If she fainted, she was certain it didn’t slow him down.
How long they stayed like that, she didn’t know. How many times he sank his fangs into her throat and took her, she had no idea. Or maybe she had dreamed a few rounds.
When she slipped into unconsciousness, all she knew was one thing.
That when they were finally done, laying in his web, suspended off the ground, and she was cradled in his arms?
She had never felt more loved in her life.
Time waseasy to ignore when it was measured only by the gradual slowing of heartbeats and the soft whisper of threads as Serrik reformed his creation into something that resembled comfort.
He cradled Ava against his chest, his threads weaving themselves into an intricate hammock suspended between the costume racks. The scent of her filled his senses—sweet and human, now mingled with his own musk and the fading traces of his venom. Every breath she took sent small tremors through the web, and he found himself cataloging each one like a precious treasure.
She stayed.
