Preview

Do not get a hard-on, Peter told himself. No matter how much you want to, need to, GOTTA, just stay soft.

Not an easy order. The Black Cat was every bit the looker Mary Jane was, but dressed more scandalously than MJ ever would’ve dared. Her latest costume—Cat was as fashion-conscious as MJ too—was practically shoulderless, its cleavage a wide vee that started almost at her arms and plunged down to between her breasts, leaving a whole chevron of skin exposed from her collarbone on down. There was not even the usual fur trim to hide the generous bounty of her cleavage, though that whiteness was still in place on her ivory boots and gloves, the little manes matching her wild hair. It contrasted wickedly with the black of her mask, collar, and costume, the pool of exposed flesh from her low-cut cleavage on up like an oasis in the midst of a vast desert that was both foreboding and spectacular.

Peter found it a struggle to speak to any woman, but this one was goddamn unapproachable. He thanked his lucky stars for the mask—she couldn’t see him blush. Not unless his ears burnt through the fabric.

“H-hey there, lady,” he said feebly. “Diamond not yours. Give it back.”

The Cat eyed him—even on the darkened rooftop, his brightly colored suit made him hard to miss—and purred speculatively. “But it’s so pretty…” she cooed, her voice heightening to a babyishly sexy little-girl voice. “Don’t you think I can keep it at my place? I’ll let people in to see it too, just like that dusty old museum was doing…”

“Knock it off,” Peter said firmly, speaking almost as much to his lurching cock as he was to her. “You can either come quietly—“

“I never come quietly, Spider. It’s a failing of mine. When I come, it’s loud, long, and hard.” Her eyes raked over him as she tapped her clawed fingers on the expanse of her exposed cleavage, the tiny taps sending a noticeable jiggle through her pendulous teats. “That’s the way I like it, too. Long and hard.”

She’s just like any other criminal, Parker. Just like Ock or Shock or Gobby. “The diamond, Black Cat. Nice and easy.”

“Oh, I am easy—just not very nice!” 

She broke off in a run, headed for the ledge, and Peter was so quick on the draw that he fired off a webline even as she turned. He didn’t see where it landed, but he knew it had snagged her front, and as she leapt to the next roof, he yanked back hard on the webline to pull her back.

His webline had landed on the zipper of the catsuit. In mid-air, her zipper slid down from the tip of the low-cut vee to her waist, only stopped from going further by her belt, which blocked the webline. Caught on that, the webline now applied its momentum to Felicia’s entire body, or rather, her costume.

With her costume unzipped, Felicia virtually slipped out of it, sliding out of the costume up to her before her momentum was arrested by the webline’s pressure applied to her belt. So, hanging half in and half out of her costume, Felicia was reeled in by Peter.

He was quite surprised to pull her back onto the roof, only to see her naked down to the waist.