Need. Hungry. Must feed. Weak.
I positioned my body in front of the man, my head tilting to the side in an animalistic move. My fangs gnawed on my lips, my blood coating my chapped lips.
Whatever expression he saw on my face, it told him that he was right. He should fear me.
“Don’t hurt me,” he begged.
I lifted my hand to stroke his cheek, and he flinched but didn’t otherwise move. My webs came out, stringing across his jaw and lips as I trailed my fingers along.
“Little fly, why do you cry?” a haunting voice asked from my chest, caressing his ears with the dark declaration of evil in my soul.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, while looking over my shoulder to stare at our audience behind the glass. I didn’t like his attention on someone else, I wanted him wholly consumed with me.
My hand gripped his scratchy cheeks, forcing his head forward. Mmm, very handsome for a human. “Look at me. See me. I’d like to drink from your lips.”
He blinked, his brown eyes confused. “What? I—”
The sensual power that my demon wielded suddenly burst from my body in an explosion of need. Pheromones pumped in the air, releasing a deadly lure that was too strong to resist. The man’s pupils suddenly dilated. His breath caught on a groan. His dick hardened in his pants.
And just like that, I caught him.
He relaxed at my touch as my power flooded his system. I reached for his shirt and slowly ripped it from his body before sinking to my knees to unbuckle his pants.
Harsh breaths could be heard around the room, as well as the observing men murmuring about what I was doing. My humanity screamed that this was wrong. So, so, terribly, inconceivably wrong. But I couldn’t stop.
“Wh-what are you—”
“Stop talking,” I demanded before pulling out his hard length. I stroked it, licking my lips at the sight of precum coating his cock.
His mouth slammed shut as he rolled his head back in ecstasy. My touch was lazy and lacked enthusiasm, but he behaved as if it was the best damn touch he’d ever felt.
When his moan echoed off the walls of the large room, I stood up and shoved at his chest, knocking him down to the ground with a playful grin. It felt like I was toying with him, teasing him for our audience to rev them up for the real show. My skin was on fire, burning for a single touch as I slipped out of my hospital gown, leaving nothing but my bare body to the room.
Everything was a mass of confusion and demonic hunger. It was clear that my spider was in total control.
“Whoa,” he croaked, hands automatically coming up to knead my breasts. I positioned myself on top of his cock, sliding my slick folds along his hardness as I bent over to suck on his ear, earning another groan from him.
That dark voice from my mouth returned with a vengeance. “You’re going to die, my prey. But it’s going to be such a sweet death.”
With that serving as my warning, I sunk onto his length and simultaneously lashed out to sink my fangs deep into his neck. I fed like the dying woman I was—without shame, without remorse. I claimed my need to survive with a vengeance, while he moaned at the lusty vampiric venom flooding his system and lure power stunning his senses.
“Yes,” my demon’s voice breathed.
This. This was what we needed. This was what we’d been hungry for.
I felt it as soon as he penetrated me—a sliver of a tether flaring from his soul. His thread shimmered with vitality, and I knew instinctively that it was his life’s essence. My spider lashed out, grabbing onto it, and then she tugged. And just like that, we began to feed.
She pulled and pulled on that thread, sucking it like a straw as we drank from his soul. She consumed violently and without pause, demolishing the scrap of light in his eyes as she continued to ride him.
My demon tugged on his existence, even while our audience watched, even while my humanity screamed against how wrong this was. Even as my heart broke into the realization of what I already knew.
I was a monster. A deadly, carnal, wicked monster.
While my demon fed from his essence, I fed from his neck. I drank until there was nothing left in his body, and I was just slurping on thinned veins and an empty heart. He didn’t even fight. The lure and venom I’d pumped into him was too strong.
I knew the exact moment I’d drained him dry—both of blood and his essence. A new vivacity filled me up as she pulled out the last of his essence, and then the deadly spider sighed in pleasure.
I pulled off his body, ruby blood coating my breasts as I hummed in satisfaction. My spider was still in control, because if it were me holding the reins to this train wreck, I would have been sobbing on the floor.
When she looked up at the row of men watching behind the glass, she smiled, revealing her massive, sharp fangs.
“Of course,” one of the men whispered in awe, like my display of raw, sexual power excited him. “She’s a black widow. Sexual cannibalism.”
The other men watched me with new wariness blotting their features. “So what does she need?” another asked.
I picked up the metal chains still wrapped around my prey’s wrists and crushed them in my fist, displaying a level of strength I’d never had before.
“More,” my spider replied darkly. “I need more.”
Chapter 5
Every time I fed, I lost a little bit more of myself.
My spider was ravenous. She claimed without remorse or shame.
It was terrifying.
Sex used to be
