Ladybug twisted, her eyes clenched tight, wheezing in response. She was desperate to be filled, to be fucked. She bucked up against his hand, fucking herself on the fingers he’d curled into her, but she neededmore. The application of his venom gave her tremendous pleasure in those months between his heats, but perhaps its use had been a mistake. Her head was spinning, and she was in danger of rolling right out of the web as the room pitched. Ladybug didn’t know what was wrong with her, other than the absolute certainty that she neededmore, the burn no longer sufficing.
“More,“ she gasped, her hands scrabbling for purchase against the springy surface of the web to hold on. “I needmore. I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I think . . . Anzan, I think something’s wrong.”
It was then that it happened. Her eyes crossed as the smell hit her. Heavy and black, enveloping her like a cloud.
“I’m sorry, my little bug.” His voice was an agonized groan above her, and then she was glad to not be confined in his web as she pushed herself up, reaching out for him. This was what she had been waiting for, after all. She was a healer.
It is intent that guides magic, Ladybug. A witch’s intent is more important than the strength of her spell. She had chosen to be a healer, and helping him through this heat was her job.Your job as his mate. Anzan did not pull away when she sunk her fingers into his sweat-soaked hair, realizing he’d been working himself up as he applied the various ointments to her.
“You don’t have to ask to have me,” she reminded him, drawing his mouth down to hers. “I’m already yours to have.”
Reinforcements were quickly made to the web, her legs stretched open and back, webbing braided around her thigh and fastened at the knees. He took advantage of her new open position, bending to place a hot, lingering kiss in the mouth of her cunt, slickening her already heated folds with his venom as she moaned.
“I trust you. You know that.” Ladybug reached out, hands grasping. She hadn’t seen his cock in what felt like ages. He wasn’t going to bury it within her before she got to hold it first.
Three orbs, decreasing in size as they moved towards the head, the same black as his arachnid carapace, bearing the same white markings. The head resembled the blossom of the calla lilies growing in the small, glassed-in greenhouse behind the garden — unfurling in a fat, curved edge that elongated to a slight point. He was already dripping his silvery spend, choking out another groan as she nibbled on his tip, licking up his pre-cum until her lips were numb.
“My Ladybug . . . I-I cannot —“
He broke off on a grunt, panting when she released him, pulling his face back to hers. She kissed him slowly, softly, tracing the curve of his lips with her tongue, grazing him with her unsharp teeth, tasting his mouth. She had never done this part herself. Pressing her tongue to the side of one of his weeping fangs, her eyes fluttered, rolling back in her head for a moment as the venom hit her taste buds. It was bitter and metallic, not unlike some of the more noxious remedies that came from her cauldron, before they were sweetened with ginger and honey, and she forced herself not to retch as he chuckled against her.
“You are a force to be reckoned with. So much stronger than you realize, butthatis not the way we need to do this. I need to have you now, my sweet, strong witch. I cannot hold back.”
She clung to his back as his fangs sunk into her neck. Sex magick of the most potent kind. A ritual to the dark mother and her horned consort, mirrored in their actions. Divine and reverent. A stab of pain and a bloom of heat, her toes curling, already able to feel the bump of his cockhead, distended and pressed to her. She could envision the venom racing through her, a silver-white tide overtaking her blood, making her heart pump fire. Her back arched.
“Please,“ she gasped, her nails scoring his skin. “I need you inside me.Now.”
The first press of his cock head within her made her see stars. She would never get used to this stretch, a feeling of fullness that seemed to press against her lungs, made her feel snug in her skin, a winter knit accidentally placed in the dryer.
“You are so tight, my little queen.”
She gripped the web as he pushed forward, his venom making her pliant. The first sphere of his shaft popped into place within her, and the room swayed. Her eyes closed tight at the press of the second, a white-hot pain as she was stretched beyond her body’s limits; a pain that was subsumed by pleasure once the second sphere was inside her.
“The gift of being permitted to pleasure you is one I shall cherish as long as there is breath within me.” Anzan’s voice was a reverent murmur above her, feeling the points of his talons bite at her hips as he gripped her. “There is no other male from my clan who has ever enjoyed such a giving mate, such a dedicated healer, upholding her family name with honor.”
The third and final sphere sunk into her, hilting him completely. Ladybug struggled forward to grip one set of forearms, relieved that he’d secured her in the sticky web.
“I love yousomuch.“ Her voice was high and manic, wheezing with air as she squeezed him. Her eyes rolled back at the slightest shift of her pelvis, filled so completely there was barely room to breathe. “I love you exactly as you are. You never need to be more than just Anzan for me. But right now, I need you to fuck me.”
His face was solemn as he nodded above her. “You do me great honor, little bug. The highest station a palp can earn.”
The first pullback felt as if he were sucking her innards out long as well, and his first full thrust into her nearly turned her inside out. On every withdrawal, her G spot was battered by the three spheres, a constant push and drag, push and drag, liquefying her spine, leaving her unable to even cry out.
“Let me hear you, my little witch. Let me hear how I please you. Let the whole neighborhood hear what it is to be a spider’s beloved mate.”
She hoped Kestra Kittredge was able to hear the sounds coming from her throat, high pitched and desperate, writhing with fire. She hoped Millie Tonguegrass was on her porch that afternoon, to hear as Ladybug came around him, shaking in her sticky, webbed confines while Anzan hissed, emptying into her with a hot gush.
“You are in control, my little queen.” His voice was a plush black curl around her shoulders, withdrawing carefully. Once unstoppered, his semen splashed down to the basin in the web he’d already fashioned. “The timing of this is inopportune, I am aware.”
“What do you mean, ‘I’m in control?’” she gasped, her back arching in the web, eyes rolling back at the press of him. “You need what you need. Don’t be silly.”
Anzan tutted. His sharp claws cut through the webbing with ashink!She was repositioned and adorned, hanging like a trapeze artist once more, the web harness he fashioned crisscrossing around her arms and breasts, forming a diamond pattern across her stomach, and re-looped up her back. Ladybug hung facing the ground, although her shoulders were well-supported, her bed several feet beneath her as she swung.
“You must get back to your kitchen, to prepare for the market. A palp’s heat is dependent only on his reina. Once you are satisfied, we are finished. I swear it.”
“I do need to finish this ointment,” she admitted, her confounded sense of professional responsibility breaking through the cloud of lust. There were orders, too, that needed completing. “But . . . but it’s only midweek. And it’s only just past noon. Do-do you think . . .”
“Tomorrow you will be back in your kitchen for work,” he readily agreed. “That is a gift, my Ladybug.” He chuckled darkly, securing her. “I went years without. A day and night is a cool, clean river for a man in the desert.”
