by Morgan Wylie
Poppy paused and pulled back, leaning her forehead against his. “Are you purring, Mat?” she inquired with a smile.
“I am not a cat. I do not purr,” he stated solidly, his face serious and expressionless.
Poppy’s smile grew. “It sounds like your purring to me.” She placed her hand on his chest and felt the rumbling of his wolf, content with her attentions and affections.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Leaving her shirt behind on the elevator floor, Mather carried her out into the large upstairs apartment toward his room.
“Wolves don’t purr… I rumble,” Mather stated satisfactorily when he found the word he was looking for.
“Well, purr or rumble, I love it and I want you to do it more.” She kissed his nose, then his forehead, then she made her way to his right cheek and then his left cheek until she reached his mouth. Her kiss was slow and intoxicating, her tongue licking the seam of his mouth then mingling with his when he granted her access. When she was finished, she looked him in his beautiful green eyes. “I want you to rumble when I’m naked lying next to you.” She kissed his neck. “I want you to rumble when I’m on top of you.” She licked his collarbone all the way from his shoulder to the center where it dips down. “I want you to rumble when you’re inside of me,” she said, her breathing becoming more labored as her mouth skimmed the skin on the other side of his neck on her way back to his mouth.
Mather growled this time, taking charge of the kiss, his control slipping past the point for slow and steady. He needed her now, and he needed to mark her as his mate. With one hand gripping her butt, he used the other to throw open his bedroom door then slam it shut again behind them. He took her straight to the large king bed centered against the back wall. Before depositing her on the bed, he pulled back the luxurious-looking midnight blue comforter with his one free hand to reveal black satin sheets. Mat then cradled Poppy in his arms tenderly and gazed into her emerald eyes.
“I want you to be my mate in every way, Poppy. I want to mark you and bind myself to you tonight if you’ll have me. I will love and take care of you and accept you for all that you are. I hope you can accept me for the big ass that I am,” he said with a small smile.
Poppy was touched and a little surprised by this tender moment Mather created. She looked lovingly and longingly back into his eyes. One of her hands came up and cradled the side of his face to which he leaned into.
“I love you, Mather Jefferson. I accept all of you, including your wolf and the ass you can be,” she replied with a smile and a wink. “I want to be your mate from now until the end of time. I will be faithful to you, no matter what.” She could see how especially that last statement hit him as his eyes covered with a barely-there sheen of emotion. She meant every word she spoke and he believed her. Poppy leaned forward and tenderly placed a kiss on his mouth. Then she tugged his beard, causing his eyes to widen with anticipation. “Now can we move onto the fun part?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Mather growled as he tossed Poppy onto the bed and she watched as he tore off his clothes in record time.
Mather reached up and pulled off her shoes first and then her pants. Seeing her in his bed in nothing more than her underwear turned him on. His eyes took on the glow of his wolf as he allowed him to the surface just enough to play. Mat hooked his fingers beneath the edges of her panties and gave them a great tug, shredding them for easy access.
“I would have just taken them off for you,” Poppy laughed as she watched the heat ignite to passion in his eyes.
“That was more fun.” Mat winked at her as he moved toward her bra. He ran his fingers under the edge of it, barely grazing the underside of her breasts.
“Oh, Mat…” Poppy breathed, arching her back for closer attention.
Reaching beneath her, he unlatched the clasp, freeing her feminine form to the cool air in the room. She breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden exposure.
“Please, Mat, I want you inside me, I want to feel you rumble through the touch of our naked skin caressing one another.” Poppy closed her eyes, imagining the scenario. She smiled as she felt the bed dip as Mather slowly crawled above her making his way to her mouth once more.
Placing his weight on her body, skin on skin, he nuzzled into her neck kissing his way down and across her chest. Their bodies collided and rubbed together as they grew accustomed to each other in a way they had never known before.
“Poppy, I love you,” Mather was barely able to get out, his voice strained with need and desire.
“I know you do, you big oaf, now get inside me,” Poppy said with a growing smile, her eyes lighting up with joy.
“Slowly now, love,” Mather whispered as he nestled his way between her legs, sliding easily into place; two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together. Mather sighed, he was finally home—exactly where he should be.
After several hours, Poppy giggled as her arms luxuriated in the soft feel of the silky smooth sheets on her skin. “Oh, Mather, these sheets make me want to roll around naked on them and never leave.”
“That’s the plan, flower. That’s the plan,” he replied, hoping it wouldn’t be too soon that they would be called away from their newly found bliss.
Epilogue
Behind the age-battered six-panel cellar door in the basement of a decrepit warehouse building left to its own devices and down the rickety wood staircase, splintering and rotting from years of abandonment and termites, deep in the underground through a dark tunnel running parallel with a forgotten subway system—Black Widow lay in wait. The woman, customarily clad in black, today, attired herself with a blood red corset to accompany her black leather leggings. Agitated, her black curls fell at strange intervals, pieces matted against themselves, creating an uneven mess. The red at the top was frizzy and lying haphazardly, mirroring her frazzled mood. Having to leave her lair, her nest she had made so comfortable, so quickly left her at odds. To her fortune, she had this backup close by. It would do for the pinch she had found herself in, but it wasn’t home, at least not yet. Black Widow paced in short quick steps, unsure where to begin or where to settle. Jitters of hunger crept over her skin. Her head twitched with discomfort and need.
“I’ll be fine, little ones. I’m awaiting my meal, ’tis on its way, little babies,” she crooned to the handful of tiny spiders that rested on her shoulders or hid beneath her locks of chaos. Searching around her makeshift lair, she took in the patchwork of miscellaneous stones and concrete pavers upon the floor. The walls were held up by a more thoughtful plan of smooth river stones placed tightly together, complete with small cement cove of built-ins that seemed to have no purpose—perfect places for her babies to make their webs. She sighed, frustration tingeing her release. She would have to start fresh, but creating her web had taken so long and it was so perfectly designed for all her needs. Anger colored her face. Rylen would pay for that. Her form wavered as her anger rose at the memory and the sting of pain at the loss of all her precious little ones—extinguished, putting their lives on the line for her cause. She could hear their cries and feel them one by one as their lives diminished, slowly and painfully. She could hear the witches as they chanted a spell to rid the Lair of her little ones through her connection to them. One final cry pierced her ears and her heart, and then they were no more—simply wiped from existence. Rylen would definitely pay for that. Closing her eyes, she breathed slowly and gained control just in time. Again, her head twitched.
“Yes, I hear them. They are quite noisy, aren’t they? I invited them; they are my guests. Behave as such. One you will recognize,” she instructed the spiders as they made their way into the matted mess upon her head. Something large fell not far outside her new lair. The crash was followed by a curse from a male voice. He approached the door. Black Widow’s lip lifted in a sneer as her hands came to a steeple at her chin. Yes, she had plans for him.
A knock sounded. The door creaked as it slowly opened. “Mother? Are you here?” a female voice spo
ke softly into the semi-darkness of the room, the only light coming from a spattering of candles, lit since she first arrived and now coated with dripped wax building up layer upon layer.
“I am. Come in and bring your friend,” Black Widow replied.
The girl rubbed her arms and barely suppressed a shudder at the temperature as her gaze slid across the random boxes and piles of abandoned metals from years gone by. “It’s so much cooler than your last place.”
Black Widow examined the man before her. Slowly, her large black eyes took him in from his feet to his head. A warrior—at least one who plays at being a warrior. Good. Unconcerned with the cares of others. Also good. Bitterness and revenge shone in his eyes, tainting his soul. Even better. Black Widow smiled seductively at her new playmate, her eyes observing everything about him. “I see you received my invitation,” she began as she turned away from him and sauntered to a corner draped more in darkness where she would be more comfortable.
“It didn’t appear I had much choice in the matter,” the man replied with an even tone, barely restraining the bite of irritation.
She ignored him. “I do apologize for the state of my new abode, but it seems my last home was… decimated by a mutual acquaintance.” Her eyes grew hard, the black orbs reflecting a myriad of tiny flames as she peered into the candlelight. “Rylen made sure it was uninhabitable for me.”
“Rylen?” he asked, taken aback.
“I believe you are familiar with him, are you not?” she asked with a knowing gleam in her eyes and a smirk on her face.
“Yes,” he replied with a snarl, “but I thought you were his mistress, the leader of The Web network.”
The poor dear did seem confused. “I am, among other things.” She moved toward him slowly. “He and I have a complicated relationship, you might say.” She trailed a hand up his arm, going no higher than his shoulder. Her daughter, next to him, rolled her eyes.
“Why would you need me, then?” The man watched her with cocky assuredness.
Her eyes grew rounder if that was even possible, and a smile crossed her features. She licked her lips and moved in close to him.
“Eli, isn’t it?” she asked, knowing the answer. She called his confident bluff as she practically climbed up his front. Black Widow laid her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He was afraid of her. Good. “Your heartbeat’s fast. Are you frightened?” He bobbed his head and gulped audibly. “There’s no need to be frightened. I brought you here to strike a deal with you. She lifted her head and gave him some breathing room.
“What kind of a deal?” he almost stuttered… almost.
“Revenge. Isn’t that the best kind?” she tittered with unrestrained glee. “I’m offering you the chance to get back at your enemy, but you have to bring me his head.” She cocked her head, evaluating Eli’s response. The gleam of hunger ignited in his eyes. Good. “Rylen thinks he has me. He thinks he has me in a corner. Can you bring me Rylen’s head, Eli?”
“With pleasure, madam. What do you require of me?” he asked, the wheels in his head already turning, plotting his revenge against the man—no, the abomination—that had bested him, had stripped him of his chance at leadership via marriage to Alana, that had humiliated him over and over again.
“Well, it seems that your boss, Arturo, has made a mistake, and his contract is about to… expire, shall we say?” She smirked at the thought. “So I am need of a new playmate.” She pouted her lips seductively, put on her girlish charm, sashayed her hips in his direction once more, and trailed her blood red fingernails up the front of his chest. He was a strong one, similar to Arturo back in the early days of their arrangement. “Will you help me, Eli? I can make all your dreams come true: I can make you the leader you deserve to be. Once Arturo is out of the picture, you will take his place and truly own not only the name but the entire Fairfax Alliance. That is what you want, isn’t it?” she purred into his ear, her lips gently caressing the delicate skin as her breath stirred reactions evident all over his body. Her mouth, so close to his skin, skimmed down his jaw line and closed in near his mouth.
“You can do that for me?” His voice was scratchy and tight. He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He cleared his throat and tried for a manlier, in-control attempt. “You would do that for me?”
“I could,” she whispered seductively near his ear. Her control was skittish with near starvation. Her mouth watered at the smell of his blood, pumping just under the surface of his translucent skin. “All I need is one tiny drop of blood to seal the deal. Then, we’re in business.”
“If that’s all you need, then I agree.” Eli straightened his shoulders as if he had just made a decision he would be proud of for the rest of his life. “I can imagine worse people to be in league with,” Eli added overconfidently.
Black Widow’s smile grew menacing. “Oh? That’s reassuring,” she offered, “I wouldn’t want you to be afraid of little ole me.” She released the grip she had on his shirt and took a step back. As she did, her form altered, shifting back and forth between the woman standing before him and a terrifying giant spider. Her head tilted in odd directions, and she laughed a sound akin to a witch’s cackle.
Eli stumbled back until he was pressed up against the stone wall, his face a sheet of white and his eyeballs ready to pop out of his skull. “Wha… What—”
“What am I?” Black Widow asked. “Your worst nightmare, Eli. And now, I will make you mine. But don’t worry, you’ll enjoy every minute of it, I promise.” Her smile was genuine, but her eyes were crazy as she stepped forward, first on two legs, then she made several smaller steps on all eight, then went back on two before she was close enough to him. Once she was, she lunged at him. Her fangs pierced the side of his neck, drawing a significant amount of blood before she stopped herself. Suddenly, she shifted back into her womanly form and licked her lips. She wanted more of him, but that would have to wait for another day. He needed to get used to it all. She leaned her head in for one last lick of the blood dripping from where she had bit him. Cleaning the wound with her tongue, she heard him utter a groan. Running her hand down his chest, she licked his neck once more, closing the wound. It was a short process of taking his blood that would ensure he belonged to her, similar to her other servants, but she would keep this one closer to the human side by not injecting him with as much venom. “See, I told you you’d like it.” She nibbled on his bottom lip before kissing him fully on the mouth. Her hand approached his belt buckle, and her daughter cleared her throat.
“I’m still here, mother. Did you forget I wanted to play with this one? Can’t you leave him for me?” she whined.
Black Widow straightened up and wiped her hand across her mouth, clearing it of any blood remains. She eyed her daughter, taking in her entire appearance. She had many children, most still in spider form, but a few had evolved into fully human forms. She was most proud of this one. “Yes, Lacy, play all you want with this one, but he still belongs to me, daughter.” Adjusting her corset, she allowed Eli’s blood to work its way into her system, warming her from the inside out. It wasn’t enough. She needed more. She expelled more energy than usual by transporting her clan of drones from the battle site to their new home.
“You’re still hungry, I can see it in your eyes. We brought you sustenance.” She pointed to the lump they had dumped onto the floor as they entered. “Eli will be out of it for a bit. You eat. I’ll help you straighten up this dump,” Lacy offered as she surveyed the room, disgust etched all over her face. She lifted her finger from a nearby box and cringed at the dust.
At the mention of food, Black Widow rolled her neck and closed her eyes. A shiver chasing up her spine erupted at the base of her head, eliciting a moan of potential pleasure. Moving slowly and somewhat jerkily, Black Widow made her way toward the pile of rags on the ground. “Is it fresh?” She leaned over the discarded body and breathed in the death and blood still fresh within its veins.
“Close enough,”
Lacy shrugged, unconcerned either way, more focused on her manicure than on the dead man her mother considered food. She moved out of her mother’s way, straightened a passed-out Eli against the wall, then began stacking boxes in a manner that would give her mother more room to roam. Lacy paid no attention to the tiny spiders crawling up her leggings to sit atop her shoulders while she worked, welcoming her home. Nor did she pay attention to the slurping sounds coming from where her mother was devouring the carcass of the dead man, whose name she thankfully didn’t know. What she did pay attention to, however, was the line of drones that stood sentinel against the furthest wall. Their eyes, black and unseeing, their minds, sharp but unthinking, simply awaiting orders to move—the creatures were neither human nor spider. They gave Lacy the creeps, but she continued her work, the madness of the lair having a soothing effect on the stresses she had recently encountered. Rylen would pay, and that bitch Alana would pay, for sure. She would kill them in their sleep—if only she could remember where they lived—where she used to live. That warlock had stripped her of her memories involving the PAC, but that was all. He didn’t know he couldn’t take away her innate gift for seduction that wasn’t born of magic, but of blood. She at least had that, and as long as she had that, she could get what she wanted.
The End… for now.
Look for more from the PAC with Enock and Lucius’ stories coming soon!
Thank you so much for reading MATHER!
There’s more to come in the Tangled Web. Stay tuned for ENOCK
