Chapter 10
Silky Entanglements
June
Riven begins laying strands across my bare breasts, down my stomach, along the insides of my thighs.
Each strand is placed with deliberate precision, the silk cool against my heated skin.
It doesn’t restrict movement further—I’m already completely immobilized—but it creates a network of sensation that makes me gasp.
“Interesting reaction,” he observes, watching my face carefully. “And what about here?”
He places a strand directly across one of my nipples then slowly, deliberately strums the strand with his finger, sending a jolt of sensation through my body that makes me moan. The sound seems to please him as he clicks his mandibles again.
“Very sensitive,” he notes, as if recording clinical observations rather than teasing me toward madness. “And here?”
Another strand, this one placed with devastating accuracy between my legs, pressing against me through the thin fabric of my underwear. When he strums this one, my hips buck involuntarily against the restraints, earning a satisfied hum from Riven.
“I could tease you like this for hours,” he says with a devilish grin.
“Please,” I whisper, not even sure what I’m asking for.
“Please what?” he asks, continuing to play with the silk strands, sending tremors of sensation across my skin. “Please stop? Please continue? Please touch you directly?”
“Yes,” I manage. “The last one.”
“So impatient,” he chides, but I can hear the pleased undertone in his voice as he places his hand flat against my stomach.
His skin is cooler than mine, slightly textured, and the contact makes me shudder.
Slowly, so slowly it’s almost torture, he begins to move his hand upward, tracking the rise and fall of my ribs, the rapid beat of my heart.
When he finally reaches one of my breasts, cupping it with careful pressure, I arch into the touch as much as the restraints will allow.
“So responsive,” he murmurs appreciatively. “So beautifully reactive.”
His thumb brushes across my nipple, and I make a sound that would be embarrassing if I had any capacity for shame left. He repeats the motion, watching my face with that predator’s focus, learning exactly what pressure, what rhythm makes me respond most strongly.
“Riven,” I breathe, straining against the silk as heat builds between my legs.
“Yes?” He sounds perfectly composed, despite the intensity of his focus.
“I need…” I trail off, not sure how to articulate what I want.
“I know exactly what you need,” he says, and one hand begins trailing down my stomach, across the silk strands, toward the edge of my underwear.
“I can smell it. Feel it in how you’re straining against my web.
” His fingers trace the waistband of my panties, then dip just slightly beneath.
“But I want to hear you say it,” he continues. “Tell me what you need, June.”
I swallow hard, desire battling the last shreds of my dignity. “I need more,” I finally say, some part of me feeling bold, another part of me unsure what I mean by ‘more.’
“More?” he echoes, that predatory focus intensifying. “More is very… unspecific, June.”
I struggle to find words through the haze of desire. It’s not just about physical pleasure anymore. I realize now that something shifted inside me after that terrifying moment on the mountain when the mudslide nearly took me.
I’ve spent my whole life being careful, calculating, planning every route to avoid danger. And for what? I still nearly died on that mountain today. I could have been swept away without ever really living.
“I want everything,” I say, my voice stronger now. “I want you to stop being careful with me. I want to know what it feels like to be yours completely.”
All of his eyes widen slightly, his mandibles clicking rapidly.
“June,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “Do you understand what you’re asking for?”
“Maybe not entirely,” I admit. “But I want to find out.”
He’s perfectly still for a moment, studying me with that intense, alien focus. Then he moves, adjusting the silk that binds my legs. With expert manipulation, he spreads them wide apart, leaving me completely exposed to him.
Something shifts in his posture, a release of careful control, and I get a glimpse of the true predator beneath the civilized veneer. With one swift motion, he tears my underwear away, the silk giving way as easily as tissue paper.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, studying me with unabashed appreciation. “So different from my kind, yet so perfect.”
His fingers drag along my inner thigh, moving with agonizing slowness toward where I’m aching for him. When he finally touches me, I cry out at the intensity of the sensation.
“So wet,” he observes as his finger slides easily through my pussy. “Is this all for me, June?”
“Yes,” I gasp.
“Good. Because everything I’m about to do is for you.” His touch becomes more confident, finding exactly the right spot to make my hips buck against the restraints. “I’ve studied human anatomy extensively, but theory and practice are such different things, aren’t they?”
“You’re doing fine with the practical application,” I manage, as he circles my clit with maddening precision.
He makes that clicking sound of pleasure again. “High praise. But I’ve barely begun.”
With that warning, he slides a finger inside me, and I moan at the intrusion. His finger is large, stretching me in the most delicious way. He watches my face intently as he begins to move it in and out, gauging my reactions to find the perfect rhythm.
“More,” I plead, and he obliges by adding a second finger, stretching me further.
“Like this?” he asks, curling his fingers to hit a spot inside me that makes me see stars.
“Yes!” I cry out, straining against the silk that holds me suspended in his web. “God, yes, just like that.”
He continues working me with his fingers, his other hand moving to my breast, teasing and pinching my nipple in counterpoint to the thrusting of his fingers. I’m lost in sensation, every nerve ending alive with pleasure as he systematically dismantles my control.
Just as I’m getting close to the edge, he withdraws his fingers, and I make a sound of protest that’s almost embarrassing.
“Patience,” he says. “I want to taste you first.”
He moves lower, his face level with my spread legs. I’ve never felt more exposed, more vulnerable, or more desperately aroused. His mandibles part slightly, and I feel a momentary flash of alarm—those things look sharp—but then his tongue emerges, and all thought flees.
His tongue is long, flexible, and textured in a way that sends shockwaves of pleasure through me as it makes contact with my most sensitive flesh. He licks a long, slow path from my pussy to my clit, and I nearly come undone right there.
“The sounds you make,” he groans against me. “I could feed on them forever.”
Then he devours me in earnest, his inhuman tongue curling and flexing, reaching places inside me I didn’t know was possible. All the while, his mandibles vibrate against my inner thighs, sending waves of sensation radiating outward.
I’m writhing in his web, the silk holding me securely as I thrash in ecstasy. He’s relentless, learning with every lick and suck what drives me wild, then doing it again and again until I’m incoherent.
When I finally shatter, it’s with his name on my lips and his tongue deep inside me. The orgasm tears through me like a storm, leaving me trembling and gasping in its wake. But rather than pull away, Riven continues his work, gentler now, but no less focused, guiding me through the aftershocks.
Only when I whimper from oversensitivity does he finally lift his head, his mandibles glistening with the aftermath of my pleasure.
“Delicious,” he says. “But now for the main course…”
I watch, mesmerized, as a previously invisible seam along his lower abdomen begins to part.
What emerges isn’t simply a cock—it’s something gloriously alien.
Enormous, it unfurls from his body with deliberate, almost hypnotic movement.
The surface ripples with subtle, raised patterns, like intricate, purposeful designs that seem to pulse with a life of their own.
The shaft is thicker at the base, tapering to a more slender tip that glistens with a pearlescent fluid.
But what truly makes me catch my breath is how it moves, autonomously flexing and undulating like it has its own consciousness, the ridged sections independently contracting in rhythmic waves.
Along the underside run two parallel channels that seem to vibrate with a low, barely audible hum that I can feel in my core even before he touches me.
It’s beautiful and terrifying, a perfect embodiment of Riven himself.
Not quite a weapon, not quite a tool, but unmistakably designed for claiming.
For possession. My throat goes dry at the thought of what those textured ridges will feel like inside me, how those vibrating channels might stimulate nerves I didn’t even know I had.
“Oh,” I breathe. “That’s… Wow.”
“We are compatible,” he assures me, moving between my spread legs. “But I’ll be careful. That is, until I test your true limits…”
He positions himself at my pussy, the head of his cock pressing against me but not yet pushing inside. I can feel how slick I am, ready for him despite his alien size and shape.
“Tell me again,” he says, his voice tight with restraint. “Tell me you want this.”
“I want this,” I say firmly. “I want you, Riven.”
With agonizing slowness, he begins to push inside me. The tapered tip enters first, making the stretch more gradual, but I still gasp at the intrusion. He’s big, and the ridges along his length create friction that has me moaning with every inch.
“June,” he groans as his composure finally slips. “You feel… impossible. Perfect.”
He continues his careful advance until he’s fully seated within me, stretching me to my limit. We stay like that for a moment, both adjusting to the sensation.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding still.
“Better than all right,” I assure him.
He withdraws slightly, then pushes back in, establishing a careful rhythm that has me gasping with each thrust. The ridges along his cock stimulate me in ways I’ve never experienced, creating waves of pleasure that build with every movement.
Just when I think it can’t get any more intense, his cock begins to vibrate inside me—a low, pulsing sensation that has me crying out in pleasure.
Because of course his whole cock vibrates.
“Sweet Jesus,” I gasp, as the vibrations intensify and I feel my body responding with desperate eagerness to this new, impossible sensation.
The silk restraints hold me perfectly in place for each methodical thrust, making me powerless to do anything but receive this overwhelming pleasure.
Through half-lidded eyes, I watch Riven’s multiple eyes focused on my every reaction, cataloging each moan and shudder with predatory satisfaction.
I’m completely at his mercy—caught in his web, filled by his inhuman body, owned in a way I’ve never experienced before—and I never want it to end.
His rhythm increases, each thrust driving deeper, the vibrations changing in intensity and pattern as if responding to my reactions.
“Come around my cock,” he commands, and my entire body tenses as a second orgasm crashes over me, more intense than the first. It radiates outward from where we’re joined in pulsing waves that leave me gasping his name.
Riven growls in response, his movements becoming less controlled, more primal as he drives into me with increasing urgency. I feel him swell impossibly larger inside me as he approaches his own climax, the vibrations turning erratic as his composure shatters completely.
When he finally comes, it’s with a sound that’s half-roar and half-chittering cry as his entire massive frame shudders, his cock pumping hot, thick seed deep inside me.
The sensation of being filled by him prolongs my own pleasure, aftershocks rippling through me long after the initial wave subsides.
“Mine,” he growls, a possessive rumble that resonates through his entire body and into mine. “My mate. My June.”
We stay joined for several moments, both of us trembling with the aftereffects. Then, with careful movements, he withdraws from me, and I whimper at the sudden emptiness.
“Shh,” he soothes, immediately producing more of his fine silk. With gentle efficiency, he binds my legs back together, then begins wrapping my entire body in his soft silk, like the world’s softest, warmest blanket.
Once my body’s completely wrapped, he releases the mechanism holding me suspended. I expect to fall, but his arms are there immediately, catching me and cradling me against his chest as if I weigh nothing.
“How was that?” he asks, carrying me back to the sofa.
“Perfect,” I say, feeling boneless and completely satisfied. “That was… beyond words.”
He settles onto the couch, arranging me in his lap so that I’m nestled against him, still wrapped in his silk. One of his hands strokes my hair while another rests protectively over my silk-covered body.
“For me as well,” he admits quietly. “I’ve never… In all my years…”
“First time for everything,” I murmur, feeling sleep beginning to tug at me.
“Rest now,” he says softly against my ear. “I’ll keep you safe.”
As I begin to drift cradled in his arms, I realize I’ve never felt so secure. Tomorrow, there will be conversations to have, implications to consider. But for now, all that matters is this moment of perfect connection with the most unexpected monster I could have imagined.
Just before I fall asleep, I feel him press what might be a kiss to the top of my head.
“My intended,” he whispers, so softly I almost miss it. “My mate.”
And I smile as a deep rest finally takes me.