Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
He grabs me up in all six of his arms and snags me and Obigor into his den. It looks just as I remembered it, smells just as I recalled. It’s the scent that drags me right back to the first and last time we were together. My body reacts with immediate arousal, almost as if I am on the verge of being stretched again by his big spider cock.
I remember how briefly cherished and possessed I felt last time, and how free I was from all my cares.
“What are you doing?” I have to ask the question, though I can easily anticipate the answer. Still, the moment I hear it, my blood runs cold.
“I told you I would keep you.” There’s a deep and intense tone to his voice.
There is a part of me that wants to be kept. I can’t deny that. But there’s another, sensible, sane part that tells me getting myself kidnapped is not going to help Sally one bit.
“Let me fucking go! I’m here to investigate one disappearance, not become another.”
“I don’t care why you are here. I told you what I would do, and now I intend on doing it. I have kept myself from you. I have resisted the urge to hunt you. I stayed in my web and waited, and now you have come to me, you will be mine.”
“You resisted the urge to hunt me?” I ask the question as two of his hands gently but firmly remove Obigor from my grasp. Obigor does not make any objection. It is as though he understands that this is all very fair and just as it is supposed to be.
“Yes,” Order hisses, his deep voice sibilant. He turns back to me and each of his eight eyes is fixed on me with pure desire. I feel that pulse between us, the erotic charge that will not go unanswered.
He is on me again, gripping, holding, taking.
“I have not stopped thinking about you since I last had you,” he growls, pulling my pants down and entirely off my legs. Even my socks are not permitted to stay. He is stripping me completely with powerful and decisive motions.
“You are mine, and I will keep you,” he growls. “You will have no need for clothing with me.”
I’m going to let him have his way with me, because that’s what I want too. But after we’re done, he’s going to tell me what I want to know.
His upper hands start to work at my clothing. I freeze, and panic and start to tell him to stop, but it is too late. He has bared me and now he is seeing more than my naked body. I wouldn’t be ashamed of him seeing my smooth caramel curves. But they are marred. There are marks on me that will never leave. Where smooth belly should be, there are indentations, and there’s a long scar on my leg where they put it back together.
“Beautiful,” he purrs, seeming not to notice the many obvious flaws left on my body. “Such a soft, sweet little pet.”
I want to say he’s lying, but he doesn’t seem to be. And I want to call him blind, but he has eight eyes and all of them are fixed on me.
“I’m wounded,” I mumble.
“You have survived,” he replies. “None of us emerge into adulthood unscathed, not for long. Those who live come with scars. These marks…” He runs his fingers gently over the parts of me I do not want seen, let alone touched. He touches them with such reverence I feel honored. “These marks are a testament to your strength.”
“It wasn’t strength. It was luck. And an asshole journalist.”
One of his hands curls so his fingers are under my chin, lifting it up so my two eyes meet his eight.
“I don’t believe in luck,” he says. “It was not luck that made me what I am. I was designed. All things are designed.”
“The idiot who shot me wasn’t acting by design. He just wanted to stay out of jail.”
“Shooting an officer of the law is a very poor way to stay out of jail.”
“True.”
Order wraps me in his embrace, three sets of arms snugging me close to his powerful, strange body. I don’t know if this is supposed to be a gesture of comfort, but I do know it immediately sparks desire.
“What happened to you?” I murmur the question to him. “What made you this way?”
The first time I asked him these questions, he refused to answer them. This time is different, because this time he intends to keep me. That knowledge is frightening and thrilling at the same time.
“Not what, but who. I was designed to combine the best of humanity with the powers of the arachnid. I was an experiment, but a finely made one. I, and all my siblings were made to save the world.”