The silk wraps securely around my ankles, strong but not painful, holding me completely helpless in the moonlight streaming through the windows. My arms dangle toward the floor, and the pajama top slides down—or rather, up—to expose my stomach. I instinctively try to cover myself, but the position makes it nearly impossible.
“I see you found my web after all,” comes Riven’s voice from the shadows, deep and amused.
I twist, trying to see him, but the movement just makes me sway gently in my suspended state. “This isn’t exactly what I was expecting.”
“No?” He emerges from the darkness, each of his eight legs moving in perfect, silent coordination. In this light, with me hanging helpless before him, he looks entirely monstrous, all gleaming exoskeleton and alien angles. “You specified web, not design. I thought I’d try something new.”
He circles me slowly, and I can feel all six of his eyes examining every inch of my suspended form. The pajama top has slipped further, exposing most of my ribs, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
I’m completely and utterly vulnerable, but all that does is send a pulse straight between my legs.
“How does it feel?” he asks, his voice silky and low.
“Disorienting,” I admit. “But… not bad.”
“Blood rushing to your head?” A cool finger traces along my exposed cheek. “Your skin is flushed.”
“That might not be just from hanging upside down,” I manage to say, and he makes a sound that’s halfway between a purr and a growl.
“I wasn’t sure if I understood your hint correctly,” he says, continuing his slow circuit around me. “Humans are so indirect with their desires. But I thought that if you were to deliberately walk into a web, that was a very clear form of consent.” He stopsdirectly in front of me, bending down so we’re face to face. “Was I correct in my analysis?”
Looking into his multiple yellow eyes from this position is disorienting, but I manage a smile. “Top marks for interpretation.”
“Good.” He straightens, and I see silk beginning to flow from his wrists, glimmering in the moonlight. “Because I’ve been thinking about how to improve the experience since our first encounter.”
I swallow hard, watching as the silk forms into delicate but strong strands between his fingers. “Improve how?”
“The first time was rushed. Improvised.” His voice drops lower, becoming almost hypnotic. “Tonight, I intend to take my time. I intend to be… thorough.”
The word makes me gulp. Because if thatfirsttime wasn’t his definition of thorough… Jesus.
“I’ve been studying human anatomy,” he continues, beginning to move the silk toward me. “Pressure points. Nerve clusters. Areas of heightened sensitivity.”
“That’s very dedicated of you,” I manage to say, my mouth suddenly dry.
“I’m a quick study.” The first strand of silk touches my wrist, cool and impossibly soft. “And I believe in proper research.”
With surprising gentleness, he begins to wrap the silk around my wrist, securing it outward from my body. He worksmethodically, wrapping and binding until my arm is completely extended and immobilized. The silk is so fine it feels like being wrapped in mist, but when I test it with a slight pull, it holds firm.
“Is this okay?” he asks, pausing before starting on my other arm.
The question is so unexpectedly considerate that I feel a surge of affection beneath the arousal. “Yes,” I say softly. “It’s perfect.”
He nods, seemingly satisfied, and begins binding my other arm. I watch, mesmerized, as his hands work with precise, delicate movements. For a creature his size, his dexterity is something else.
“You’re very good at this,” I observe.
“Natural talent,” he says. “Enhanced by decades of practice. Though never with prey I didn’t intend to eat… You are my first object of this sort of desire.”
The simple admission only excites me more. He finishes securing my other arm, and now I’m fully spread, with my arms extended outward and legs held together above me, exposed and at his mercy.
Riven steps back to admire his work, and I’ve never felt more like prey in my life. His posture has shifted, becoming more predatorial, more alien. In this moment, there’s nothing human about him. He’s pure spider, and I’m caught in his web.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, and the word holds a weight of satisfaction that makes me shiver.
I should be terrified. Everything about this situation—being bound, helpless, at the mercy of a creature designed by evolution to hunt and capture—should trigger every survival instinct I possess.
Instead, I’m flooded with a desire so intense it’s almost painful.
