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Muffled curses filtered down. I would bet a million that Zara was hacking off legs. If she could spike its brain she would. The girl wouldn’t give up.
She couldn’t see the spider though...
How impossible was that—killing a thing that was invisible?
My fist felt the coolness of air—the brush of air like a rush to my aching lungs.
In that frozen instant, as I squinted through my mask of silk, I guessed which part of the spider was face, and I hammered at it.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Pain raked my fingers, bones feeling chipped as I shattered her face. I needed something else.
My hand raked through the silk, seeking the butt of my Taurus. Next time my fist pummeled into her, I fed her some gunmetal first. Smashed in deeper, pounding the gun through a slurry of flesh.
Liquid spilled from the wound and, in case of poison, I clenched my teeth futilely on the spear of the creature slowly screwing into my mouth.
The bitch kept me pinned by the throat. Erratic probing as she tried to fight off my blows.
My gut lurched as she pushed deeper.
Harder.
Punching, keep punching.
I tore at her, shredding, pulling on splinters, squelching.
Finally, the spear clogging my mouth did nothing but twitch.
I expected cool relief but a line of fire sliced the back of my hand.
I was rolled to one side, then the other, flipped, and the spear withdrew in a rush, leaving me coughing as muscles spasmed and air tore into my lungs.
Air, I could breathe air without sucking in silk.
Floppy pieces of the Jorogumo slid down my arm, the cocoon shook repeatedly, and the hooks on my mouth vanished. There was just the bitterness left on my tongue.
And the lingering heat of lust.
When my legs were freed, I rolled and lunged backward, walking on my hands, then standing and staggering. The last of the creature was dissipating. A black fog drifted across the ground and tendrils leaked skyward.
“Fuck!” I swiped at my face, spitting. “Fuck that!” The dry retch burned.
I stared at Zara through wet eyes as I jammed the Taurus into the holster. The gun was perfectly clean. Nothing of the Jorogumo or her tiny spiders existed anymore.
Zara ran to me, gasping, tears on her face as she clung to me. Dawn brightened her like the guardian angel she was.
Damn.My cock jolted then seemed to swell an extra inch at her touch, and my body stiffened.
“I’m sorry, you’re hurt.” She pulled back, out of my arms.
The creature had vanished, but the gouges and lacerations from the attack remained. And there was my hand. Zara had cut me with the knife, and the skin there still sizzled.
Yet the pain was nothing like the lust. The violence had pumped my veins and my dick with adrenalin, sex, and maybe spider venom.
