Chapter 12

What have you been up to, my little spider?

I scroll through the video feed, watching her as she roams the halls of Black Thorn Manor earlier today, wondering what she’s thinking.

Is she contemplating the best way to dispose of me? What she’ll do with my money once I’m gone? Who she’ll marry next?

Does she suspect I know her true nature? Doubtful, but I’d like to think that she’s just as confused by my distance as I am.

I should go to her. Every moment I don’t is a missed opportunity.

Yet my eyes remain glued to the screen, lost in obsession.

A screen to the left flickers to life, revealing a visit from my mother that took place earlier today. I watch as Jade escorts my mother into the dining room before getting Ivy, who was heading to her room.

Because my wife has almost no contact with the outside world, there’s never been a reason to listen to her during my daily stalking, and the thought of eavesdropping on her conversation with someone has me intrigued.

My mother speaks first.

Mom: What a sight it would be to have a grandchild with bright red hair.

Ivy: I don’t know if my genes stand a chance against Mateo’s dark locks.

Mom: There’s a rumor that I have a hint of Irish in me, but you’d never know it by looking at my family tree. I’m Bella, by the way, but feel free to call me mom.

I listen as they chat, smiling at the timid sound of Ivy’s voice.

If we have a daughter, I hope she inherits Ivy’s big, green eyes and soft grace and not her killer instinct.

Their short conversation regarding Jade amuses me, but I dismiss it as idle banter. Truly, what else would they talk about?

What really strikes me is how innocent my wife sounds. Ivy’s mask of frailty enchants me more than I care to admit. How can someone so sinister be so utterly beguiling?

Jade rolls the tea tray in, and their conversation shifts to my wife’s unoccupied womb.

Jade: Her pregnancy tests have all come up negative, which isn’t shocking, because despite the daily injections she gets, she failed to inspire Mateo.

Jade, oh, Jade—what the fuck do you think you are doing?

Mom: Failed to inspire?

Jade: Your son can have any woman he wants. It is any wonder that he can hardly muster the drive to visit her.

Ivy: He can have any woman he wants, yet he chose me.

Jade: Because of limited time, pressure, and distinct qualifiers. He can hardly bring himself to visit her bedchamber, and has so far only taken her twice.

Mom: Is this true?

Ivy: As you know, your son is very busy?—

Mom: Not so busy that he should be so careless with his inheritance.

Ivy: If I were you, I’d stop being so concerned with my bed.

Jade: And if I were you, I’d be very concerned with who’s in mine.

Unable to take any more, I pause the feed.

Was that real pain I heard in Ivy’s voice?

I learned at a young age how to read people. It’s essential in my line of work.

Yet with my wife, I’ve yet to detect a lie. Every part of her is innocent and sweet, and if it wasn’t for Lance’s good work, I would have surely fallen for her ruse.

I replay the scene again from start to finish, listening to the two women spar, and never once do I sense a hint of deception from my murderous wife.

A part of me thinks Lance is wrong. That Ivy is not a part of any Web, and she has no intention of killing me. But deep down, I know that’s not true.

My wife isn’t the pretty, compliant noodle I asked for. She’s dangerous. Deadly, even.

Perhaps that’s why I’m so obsessed with her.

And Jade? Well, of course, she’s jealous. She’s a weed compared to my wife.

But Jealousy doesn’t give her the right to tear her down.

That’s my job.

I bring up the feed to my wife’s room and watch as she stares at the pages of the books she’s reading, looking utterly enthralled. She’s wearing a thin, pink cami that is just long enough to fully hide her panties.

I press the intercom button and call Jade into the room.

“You rang,” she practically purrs, her hips sashaying as she approaches my desk.

“I was hoping you could do me a favor.”

“You know I live to please.”

Getting up from my seat, I tell her, “Sit in this chair and watch this monitor.”

She complies, her lips curling into a frown when she glimpses my gorgeous wife.

“Is there something I should be looking for?”

“You’ll know it when you see it,” I say, making sure the volume is up before I leave.

I head to my wife’s floor, going directly to her room. She looks up from the book she’s reading, her mouth gaping ever so slightly when she sees me.

I storm forward, grab her book, and throw it against the wall.

“Mateo—”

I bring my hand to her throat and force her eyes to mine. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

She struggles to nod.

I point back toward the corner of the room, where the camera is. “Do you see that sconce?”

“Y-yes…”

“I want you to look at it the entire time.”

Her brow pinches.

Leaning forward, I whisper into her ear, “You’re being watched.”

Keeping my hand on her throat, I rip off her cami to gorge on her beautiful tits.

She tries to throw her head back, so I tighten my grip, growling, “Eyes on the camera.”

“Understood,” she chokes out.

With my free hand, I cup her breast, swirling my tongue around her erect nipple as she writhes beneath me. Her fingers dig through my hair as her hips lift, seeking precious friction.

And this is where my confusion starts, because how am I to know if she truly enjoys the sinful things I do to her?

This thought keeps me up at night. It keeps me coming back to the videos I’ve already watched dozens of times.

It’s what keeps me from her.

How fucking real are these moments? How deeply can my wife even feel? Does she know anything of lust? I tell myself she can’t fake her reaction to what I do to her, but how can I be so sure?

Pulling off her tit, I rasp, “Tell me what you want, Ivy.”

I pray she doesn’t lie.

“I…I…”

“Tell me!” I demand. “Tell Jade.”

Her legs part ever so slightly beneath me and her hand slides between us, to her clothed pussy. “I want you here.”

“What do you want there?”

“Your tongue.”

Without hesitation, I yank her panties clean off her body.

“Good girl,” I tell her, looking back over my shoulder at the camera. “This is something I never do for any other woman. Not the supermodel on my arm at Cannes, the barista I fucked in the back of my limo, and certainly not Jade.”

Instead of working my way down her body, I sit back on my heels and pull off my shirt.

Ivy arches a brow at me, frustrated.

There’s no way she’s faking this. Her desire is palpable. Undeniable. Despite what she is—who she is—she needs this just as badly as I do.

“You’re going to ride my face, sweet Ivy, but I need you to look into the camera the entire time. Can you do that for me?” I sit back and motion for her to mount me.

She bites her lower lip, mulling over my demand.

“You’re mine, Ivy. There is no thinking. Only doing.”

With that, she crawls forward, the tattered remains of her cami sliding up my body. I yank it off, enjoying the way my wife flinches at the aggressive move.

Growing impatient with her sluggish moves, I grab her waist, lift her, and set her straight down on my chest, her knees planted next to my ears.

“Every moment I eat your delicious pussy, I want you looking at the camera, telling Jade how good I make you feel. Do you understand?”

Again, her features contort in frustration, but she nods her pretty head.

I slide my hands between her thighs, cup her round ass, and pull her to me. She’s already so wet, coating my beard before I even have a chance to taste her.

I don’t expect my wife to bear down on me, rubbing her greedy pussy across my face like an absolute whore. Yet she does.

She’s like candy to me. I can never get enough.

I lick, lap, and suck her pink slit as she thrashes atop me, making an absolute mess of my face. My cock strains against my zipper, begging to be let free, but the moment it’s unleashed, I know I won’t be able to hold myself back, and I aim to teach Jade a lesson.

Lifting her, I say, “Tell Jade what I’m doing. How good it feels. Tell her everything.”

I drill my tongue into my wife, watching as she stares at the sconce.

“He’s licking me…it feels so good…so powerful…”She rocks her hips against me brazenly. “He wants me so bad…so hard…again and again…”

Fuck me, there’s no way this isn’t real.

I draw my tongue up her slit to her clit, swirling around it like a sweet treat. Ivy moans, bringing one hand to her lush breasts, and the other behind her, to my engorged cock.

The sensation of her small hand on my clothed member nearly makes me come on the spot.

“Fuck!” I snarl, lifting her and pushing her forward so that her face plants near the edge of the bed.

I get on all fours and yank my belt off, eager to bury myself in my wife. She looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes needy and desperate.

Reaching forward, I grab Ivy’s hair, forcing her to look at the sconce. “Tell Jade how good I take you,” I demand as I line my cock up with her hot, wet center.

“So…good…”she whimpers, rearing back against me in a salacious display of depravity. I thrust into her, pushing against her tight walls, aching to make her mine.

“Tell her!” I roar.

“He’s so big!”

“More!”

“…so…deep…”

One possessive hand remains buried in her hair while the other toys with her clit. I can only imagine what Jade is thinking as she watches us. How humiliated she must feel.

This will teach her that the only person who gets to make my wife feel small is me.

My balls tighten as I chase my release.

So…close…

I stroke her clit faster and faster, refusing to come before my wife does, but it isn’t until I say the words, “Come for your husband,” that she detonates, milking the cum straight from my cock.

Fuck—there is nothing like creaming my wife. No feeling is as powerful. As potent. As fucking addicting.

Which is another reason I keep away from her. It’s too easy to get lost in her, and she’s just too fucking dangerous.

Ivy collapses, her back rising and falling in rushed bursts. I stay kneeling, righting my clothes as I stare into the sconce.

Once she’s finally caught her breath, Ivy twists to look at me, her eyes full of question.

“There’s only been you, Ivy,” I blurt, though it makes no sense why I should say that. Sure, it’s the truth, but why would I care to assuage her worries? She is out to kill me and steal what she can of my inheritance, after all.

Her body relaxes, and I see a hint of a smile play about her pouty lips.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, and every night thereafter,” I tell her as I grab my shirt and exit the room.

I walk slowly back to my office, knowing Jade is anticipating my arrival.

“Why did you lie to my wife and mother?” I snap as I enter the room.

She shrugs. “I knew you didn’t like your wife, so I thought?—”

“Well, don’t fucking think from now on.”

She nods her head slowly, her eyes trained on her lap.

“Do you actually think you hold a candle to my wife?” I bark out. “Just fucking look at her!” I gesture to the screen, which shows my wife curled on the bed. “I didn’t pick her because she was my only fucking choice. She’s fucking perfect!”

Her throat jumps when she swallows. “Understood.”

“If I ever catch you spreading lies to my wife, to my mother, or to greater society, I-will-fucking-bury-you. Do you understand?”

“Yes—”

“Get out!”

As she’s about to pass by, I bring my arm up, blocking her from leaving.

“One last thing.” I lean down so that my lips are a breath away from her ear. “I will never, in this life or the next, fuck your generic, overrated cunt again.”