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“That’s quite a family.”
“I cannot begin to explain,” he says. “For your own safety, you should not be here. You should never have been brought here. You are seeing what should not be seen.”
I guess I’m not going to get to come after all. He’s obviously irritated by whatever happened out there. Bad guy got away, I guess.
“You need to get used to it.”
“Get used to what?” He snaps the question at me, two pairs of arms folded over his broad chest in a sulky sort of way.
“The bad guys getting away. They do it a lot. And sometimes, even when they don’t get away, even when you catch them and they get put behind bars, it still somehow feels like they got away with it anyway.”
I watch as the irritation melts from his face.
“I think I like you,” he says. “You have a way about you. Tough, but soothing. Vulnerable, but strong. You lift my mood, and I am in a very bad mood. Or was.”
He returns to me, and his hands slide up over my ass again. Four hands run up my thighs and under my ass, squeeze my cheeks, and grip me strongly.
“It’s a pity that once we find Rage, we will never see one another again,” he says.
“Then I guess we have one night.”
I can’t believe I have the confidence to say that, but I have been left on the edge of climax for longer than I can handle. I would have thought that my arousal would simply have faded, but it hasn’t. Being suspended and denied has left me more eager than before to finish what we started.
This is going to be one night with a creature I’ll never be able to tell anybody about, and that’s okay, because there’s nobody I want to tell. I just want to give into pleasure, even though it is coming from a strange and unsettling place.
Order lets out a throaty chuckle and bars both doors to this room, walking around me to do it. As he passes by, I note the way all eight of his eyes swivel toward me. The hunger of so many gazes fills me with heat.
With the second door barred, he turns back to me with a sharp smile of desire.
And he starts taking his clothes off.
Fuck. Yes.
When he removes his shirt, a shirt with six sleeves — I wonder who makes his clothing — I see that he’s built for action. He’s not overly broad, but he is very muscular. There is a deep red line that runs the length of his chest. It startles me for a moment.
“It’s a mark of venom,” he says. “A warning to the world.”
“You’re venomous?”
“Only if I bite.”
That should scare me, but like everything else about him that should scare me, his danger turns me on.
“You don’t seem to have fangs, though?” His teeth are sharp, but they’re not the curved hollow fangs a venomous creature needs in order to inject venom into their prey.
“That’s because I am trying not to frighten you.”
I look at this creature, this muscular beast of eight limbs and eight eyes and I feel a little pang of guilt, or maybe sorrow.
“Why did your face just change?” He asks the question sharply. I can tell he does not want to be pitied, but I know my answer would make him think I pity him.
“I don’t know.”
“Liar,” he purrs, drawing near. He grasps his web and swings me toward him. My thighs spread around his narrow but powerful waist and his lower hands grip my ass again. “Tell me what thought crossed your mind.”
“I thought that you must be lonely.”
His many eyes blink all at the same time.He looks at me with even more intensity than before.
