Chapter 214: Tangled in heat(18+)
The heat in the nest hadn’t really faded, just slowed, like embers under silk waiting for a breath to spark them again. Allen stood amid the sprawl of tangled limbs, glistening skin, and torn webbing, his breath steady, but his body still hard, still slick with the night’s work. The brood’s eyes never left him. Even the ones collapsed against the walls kept watching through half-lidded stares, as if his shadow alone might pull them back into the frenzy. Lyssra was still in his lap when he shifted her off him, the sticky sound of their separation making a few nearby sisters shiver. She settled to the floor, her human half flushed and boneless, her abdomen twitching faintly as strands of silk trailed from her spinnerets.
Allen didn’t say a word, but the movement of his hand was enough — a simple crook of two fingers — and three sisters crawled toward him at once. They weren’t the slow, teasing motions from earlier; this was hunger. Their legs clacked softly against the silk floor, mandibles quivering, breasts heaving as they reached him. The first dropped to her knees in front of him, running her tongue over his length like she was tasting prey for venom. The second pressed herself against his side, her hands trailing over the sweat-slick planes of his stomach before slipping lower, nails dragging lightly. The third climbed onto his back, her arms looping around his neck, whispering broken fragments in her clicking, half-human language — words that pulsed with reverence and filth in equal measure.
They cleaned him with mouths and hands, their saliva mixing with the remains of the brood’s heat, until his cock throbbed against the lips of the one kneeling. She didn’t need to ask. She pushed forward, taking him deep until her nose was pressed against his skin, her abdomen curling tight as her human torso writhed. The other two clung to him, kissing and biting at his shoulders, nipping until the faint sting made him grip the kneeling sister’s hair and hold her there. Her throat worked, desperate to swallow around him, while the others moaned against his skin like they could feel it themselves.
When he finally pulled her off with a wet pop, her mouth glistened, and she was panting as though she’d just been freed from a trance. He shoved her onto her back without warning, pinning her wrists in the silk, and drove into her hard enough to make her cry out. The sound set off a chain reaction; across the nest, sisters began stirring again, their legs shifting, their voices rising in eager hisses. Allen’s hips slammed down in a punishing rhythm, the wet smack of their bodies echoing under the dome of webbing.
One sister crawled forward on all fours, offering herself beside them, her chitin scraping lightly against the floor. He reached out, caught her by the jaw, and pulled her head between their joined bodies, forcing her to lick at the place where they were connected. She obeyed without hesitation, her tongue tracing every slick movement, her moans muffled by the thrusts.
Soon there was no clear order to it. Sisters tangled over one another, Allen moving between them with no pause, using one until she was trembling and leaking silk onto the floor, then turning to the next. Sometimes two at once, their human halves pressed together while their spider legs locked in a trembling cage around his hips. Sometimes he’d flip one over, take her from behind, and force her to watch another get filled at the same time, their voices braiding together into one constant hum of pleasure.
Lyssra returned to him after a while, dragging a still-bound captive behind her like a trophy. She laid the prey at his feet, then knelt herself, kissing the inside of his thigh before taking him in her mouth. Allen rested a hand on her head, watching the captive’s wide eyes as silk was cut away just enough to expose her. He stepped forward, pulling free from Lyssra’s lips, and sank into the bound one in a single push. Her muffled cry filled the chamber, and Allen didn’t slow — he wanted every sister to see how even prey became part of the brood’s heat once he claimed them.
By the time he finished, there wasn’t a single sister untouched. Webbing clung to skin and hair, slicked with sweat and cum, the air thick with the scent of him. The nest itself seemed to pulse in the afterglow, strands of silk trembling faintly with the weight of so many bodies sprawled together. Allen stood in the center, looking over his work, and the way they looked back at him — every eye glowing in the dim — told him the brood was his in a way that went deeper than silk or seed.