“Not for a long time,” Bishop said.
He settled himself into a crook where his webbing grew up from the floor. He reached out and I stepped into his embrace, enjoying the feel of his pedipalps wrapping around me to hold me closer to him. He sighed into my hair, stroking where the long strands fell onto my back.
“Then why did Roger send me?” I asked.
“He is my friend,” Bishop explained. “And lately . . . it has been lonelier than before. I am getting older, and I realized I have had no one to share my life with. The carnival yes, but we are more of a dysfunctional family than friends. We are here because the outside world does not want us. It does not, however, mean that we necessarily care for each other.”
“That is wrong,” I defended him, though I knew what it meant to have a family that did not want you beyond their personal ties.
“My family is like that as well,” I told him, avoiding his gaze and opting to stare at the hairs on his chest.
I let my fingers run through them and saw as the bulge beneath his torso grew again, his cock pressing to be unleashed. I was already needy as well. The tent was filled with his scent, his pheromones, and though my body reacted to them I was still not able to name an actual scent.
“Come up to my nest,” he said gently.
I nodded. He pulled the towel from around my body and lifted me into his arms. I forced myself not to look down as he scaled the walls. The nest was bigger than it looked from the ground, and I told myself that I was not going to look out the door to see how far away the ground was.
There was enough room for Bishop to set me down, and I saw there was already a pillow and blankets in a makeshift bed against the soft floor. Bishop disappeared for a moment and there was a click as the lights turned off, only the red bulbs still glowing. If I did not think about how it was a giant spider nest made by a hybrid-spider monster, it was a homey space.
Bishop climbed in, his large body making the space feel smaller. He crowded me into a corner, his glowing eyes the only visible feature on his face. I saw as he blinked, staring at me. All of his eyes glowing together looked like starlight.
“I am going to take you now, Justine,” he said.
My heart fluttered in my chest. “Yes.”
ChapterSeven
Our earlier endeavorshad quenched his thirst. He was slower this time as he pulled my body against his.
“Are you going to tie me up again?” I asked.
“Do you like being tied up, Little Fly?”
I pondered it for a moment, biting my lip as I ran a hand down one of his legs.
“Are you going to be rough?”
“Do you want me to be rough?” His hand cupped my bare breast, his thumb running in lazy circles around my peaked nipple.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His mouth came down on mine. I felt his mandibles wrapping around my head, his cock was already out and pressing against my belly. The kiss was fierce. Claiming. His tongue delved into my mouth as if he were trying to remember the taste of me.
His hand gripped the back of my neck and pulled me away from him, pressing my body against the wall of the nest. I felt the soft fibers give some beneath me and the structure swayed as his legs moved. I felt the press of his legs on my ankle, the webbing stuck to my skin as he wrapped it around me. I did not have time to think before I was pushed back, my legs being pulled into the air by the cords tied to them.
My head fell back. Bishop held the strings up like a puppeteer, my legs splaying open in front of him. He held me there, his mouth reaching down and licking through my folds.
My eyes fluttered closed, and I lost myself in the feel of his tongue delving into my pussy. One hand clasped at my breast while the other pressed two fingers inside me. My arms were pressed beneath my head, pillowing my skull as I hung upside down while he feasted. I had never had someone eager enough that it felt like they were trying to eat me from the pussy up. Was he trying to do that?
His mandibles braced open my thighs. My legs hung up in the air, one braced over Bishop’s shoulder as he stood in front of me.
I felt myself falling over the edge; but, just before I got there, he pulled away. I groaned, wiggling my body to try and bring his mouth back where I needed it. I felt something press against my entrance, more firm than his fingers. My eyes widened just as I felt his cock press into me. It was thick. Thicker than anyone I had ever been with. He was slow as he pushed in, letting my body adjust to his girth.
We groaned at the same time, luxuriating in the feeling of being connected this way.
“Fuck,” he growled, sliding himself in to the hilt. “Justine.”
“Bishop,” I moaned.