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Authors: Megan Hart

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BOOK: Passion Model
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He yelped and jumped away. “What the hell?”

“You’re not good at following instructions, are you?” Keeping my eyes on him, I bent to pick up the puddled artisilk of my jumpsuit. I pulled the stunner from my utility belt and held it out. “Kissing isn’t allowed.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of one hand and seemed ready to say something. Instead, he just nodded. “Sorry.”

“Do I need to repeat the instructions?”

“No.”

“Good.” I kept the stunner with me and moved toward the bed.

I enjoyed watching his eyes widen as I lowered myself back onto the pillows. Inspection station beds aren’t equipped with fancy comforters and blankets—they’re made for fucking, not sleeping. But every one always has a full complement of pillows, helpful to aiding any sexual position required. I scooted back against the headboard, my head propped up and my legs spread wide.

“I’ll be testing your reactions to sexual stimuli while in performance mode,” I explained to him. I know I sounded matter of fact, but the fact of the matter was that my sex had begun to throb. My nipples too. My training from the Academy conditioned me to respond to sex as well as most of these Pleasurebots. Better, in fact, than some of them. The difference is, Pleasurebots are designed to achieve frequent and swift orgasm. R.I. Ops are trained to resist climax, so we can concentrate on our jobs. They don’t call us the Blue Ball Squad because of the color of our uniforms. Lots of Newcitizens think the extra rank and privileges make up for rarely getting to come, and there are times when I agree. Tonight would not be one of them.

He stared at me. “Listen. I really have to tell you something.”

“Oh, God-of-choice! You’re not a reconditioned model, are you?” The pieces began to fit together. The upgrades on the hair and features, the enhanced package, the memory wipe. This guy must’ve been through the wringer. “You have done this before, right?”

“Yeah, of course, but—”

“Then get up on the bed and do it.” I was losing patience by now. “I don’t have all night.”

He set his mouth in a thin, grim line. “You’re a real hardass, aren’t you? Always have to be in charge?”

I’ve been insulted worse, plenty of times, but for some reason his words stung. I tried not to let it show in my eyes or my voice when I replied. R.I. Ops don’t have the luxury of emotion.

“I am always in charge.”

“Not this time, baby.”

Now I was angry. “Watch your mouth, or I might just haul you to the shop.”

Then he gave me that grin again, that damned cocky grin that shot fire between my thighs. I narrowed my eyes but couldn’t stop the twitch of my hips. He saw it too and grinned wider.

He unbuttoned his shirt. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”

“There’s no need for you to fully disrobe.” Damn, he looked fine. I concentrated on the series of images, which usually worked to keep me focused. A key, a star, a red ball. They weren’t working.

The shirt came off to reveal smooth, tan skin. Perfect nipples, surrounded by crinkly hair. More hair furred his chest and ran in a straight, thick line down past his navel and met his thatch of dark pubic hair.

His cock rose proudly from the dark nest. His erection hadn’t wilted at all. In fact, when I shifted on the bed to flash him some pink, it twitched in reaction.

“I function better when I’m naked. Besides,” he pointed out, “you’re naked. Doesn’t seem fair.”

“It’s not protocol.”

He shrugged and stepped out of his drawers. “Too late now.”

“You’re really testing my patience, Declan.”

The bed dipped under his weight as he crawled up on it. “Sorry.”

He wasn’t sorry. I could hear it in his tone of voice. But as his tongue found my clit, I found I didn’t really care.

My job is to test these bots to see if their systems are still working all right. The problem is it can take a variety of stimuli to trigger that malfunction. Sometimes it can take hours before a bot reaches that point. For the first time since my rookie days, I wasn’t sure I could last long enough.

He didn’t immediately drill me with his tongue. Instead, he began with a series of soft kisses that tickled my thighs and made me squirm. His hands found my hips and held me still. I let him. His comments about my having to always be in charge still echoed in my head, interfering with the sensation of his mouth on my clitoris. I forced them away and concentrated on his technique.

Declan licked me slowly. Gently, but with enough force behind his mouth to make me wiggle. I felt every breath, every caress. His hands left my hips to stroke my thighs and calves, to wander across my belly. He was good. He was top of the line, no doubt about it. Too soon to tell if he had the faulty ignition, but I had all the time in the world.

“Put your finger inside me,” I whispered, and he complied.

I was so wet already. His tongue danced on my swollen clitoris and urged me toward orgasm. I spread my legs wider to give him more access and gave myself up to the sensation.

He slipped another finger inside me while he suckled gently on my lips and clit. I slid my hands up to my breasts to tug on my nipples. They were iron hard and swollen, just aching for his mouth on them. I had to switch or I’d go over the edge.

“Come up here.” He didn’t move, instead continuing to focus his attention on my crotch. I tapped his head until he looked up. “C’mon. Up.”

He slid up the bed toward me, angling for my mouth again. I held up my hand. “No kissing. Didn’t you learn anything?”

He didn’t look chastised. “Sorry.”

I got up on one elbow to look him in the eyes. “You’re not a very good bot, are you?”

He gave me that naughty grin. “Nope.”

I shook my head, but a grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. Despite his poor attitude, I was beginning to like Declan.

“Lick my breasts.”

He bent his head. “If you insist.”

I was beginning to think I’d been wrong. Declan might not have had his license up to date, but he didn’t seem to be malfunctioning in any way. I could just force him into coming and let it go at that. Get back to my rounds at the Lovehuts and listen to people whispering behind my back as I passed by. Somehow, that choice didn’t sound appealing. Not when I had a very handsome, very hard bot in bed with me.

He mouthed my nipple and took the tiny bud of flesh tenderly between his lips. I relaxed against the pillows, letting him do what he wanted. Passion Models are good about taking the initiative. You might pay more for the privilege, but if you’ve ever been with a FCK 75 or the COK 187, you find it’s worth it. Despite Declan’s accusation that I always like to be in control, I find telling my sexual partner how to perform, step-by-step, unfulfilling and tiresome.

He traced the faint flush blooming on my chest and the swell of my breasts. “You’re beautiful.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

He shook his head and bent back to my nipples, sucking on first one and then the other, alternating in perfect rhythm. Without my having to ask, he slipped one hand down between my legs.

He had no trouble finding my erect clit. “You’re so wet.”

“That means you’re doing your job.”

He stroked me lightly and smiled when I twitched beneath his touch. “And you’re just doing yours.”

“Someone—” I paused to take a deep breath against the sensations sweeping through me, “—has to keep society safe.”

He rolled on top of me and his cock nudged my entrance. “I assume I’m allowed to fuck you now?”

“Show me what you’ve got.”

He slid that thick length inside me and waited a moment, eyes closed, before moving. His weight on me was not unpleasant. Nothing about being with him was unpleasant, actually. I was enjoying this encounter far more than I usually did. I lifted my hips, urging him on.

“I can’t tell if your ignition is faulty if you don’t perform.”

He opened his eyes. “My ignition isn’t faulty.”

I didn’t bother to reply. They never admit to malfunction. I put my hands on his hips, liking the smooth feeling of his skin, then curved my fingers around the furry mound of his buttocks. I stroked his ass as he pumped slowly in and out of me. With every thrust my engorged clit rubbed against his pubic bone. We fit together perfectly, seamlessly.

He bent his head to nip at my throat, and I let his kisses slide. As long as he didn’t try and put his lips on mine, I could ignore protocol and procedure, especially since he was so skilled in everything else.

“Are you all like this?” he asked in a whisper against my ear. “Or just you?”

I couldn’t figure out why he insisted on talking. I didn’t answer. I could tell by the way he was speeding up his thrusts that he was close to coming, and I was right there along with him. I pushed his face toward my breasts, biting back a gasp when he found them.

I hooked my legs around the back of his calves, urging him to fuck me harder. Faster. So far he’d shown no signs of breaking rhythm, no erratic behavior.

“Let go,” he muttered. “Gemma, I want to make you come.”

His words sent me closer to the edge than even his tongue had. When was the last time someone had said that to me? It had been way too long.

I tried to focus on what he was doing rather than what he was saying, but the words kept coming.

“You’re so beautiful, Gemma. I want to make you feel good. I want to fuck you until you come. Come with me, please.”

I wanted to tell him to shut up, that he was confusing me, but the pleasure arcing through me was too intense. I couldn’t speak without moaning. He was sweeping me away, and I didn’t care.

“Come with me,” he whispered again and gave a little twisting thrust that ground him deliciously against my cunt again.

Now it was my turn to mutter a curse. I didn’t want to see his face, couldn’t look into his eyes. His hands on me, his mouth on me, his dick inside me, all were leading to an explosion of feeling I didn’t want and couldn’t refuse.

He whispered his plea again, and added another. “Look at me. Please, Gemma.”

Was it because he said my name like a lover would, all soft and tender? Was it because he was the first bot to bring me this close to orgasm since I’d been a rookie just out of training? I don’t know what made me respond, but I did. I opened my eyes and met his gaze.

“Declan.” His name popped out of my mouth before I could stop it, and he groaned at the sound of it.

The shift happened, that tiny instant when the body goes from pleasure to ecstasy. I was going to come, and come hard.

“Fuck me,” I managed to say though I wanted only to groan. “Please. I’m going to…”

I didn’t have time to finish because the first burning spasms of electric orgasm ripped through me. I’m sure I cried out, made some sort of agonized noise. I pulled him to me, feeling the full length of him sliding in and out, driving into me, making me wet, making me scream, making me come.

I couldn’t close my eyes, had to keep them locked on his. Watching him, seeing the way he bit his lip as his own orgasm built and exploded.

Tiny beads of sweat had burst out on his brow and upper lip, and he slid out his tongue to lick them away. My fingers tightened on his shoulders, hard enough to make him protest. I was helpless against the raging force of my climax, but even as it tore through me, I had to speak.

“You’re a man!”

He burst inside me, his cock throbbing with a final thrust that sent one last round of sensation jolting through my quivering pussy. I fought the orgasm but lost and could only surrender to it. He buried his head in the curve of my shoulder, and his body shuddered while he gasped out my name again.

Pleasurebots don’t sweat. Declan was no Passion Model. He was a real man.

Now his weight held me down, and I shoved him off. My heart pounded with different purpose, and the stars flashing in front of my eyes had nothing to do with my body’s reaction to my recent orgasm.

“It’s illegal for a Recreational Intercourse Operative to engage in intercourse with a human being while on duty.” My voice was hoarse. This man had just given me the best sex I could remember having…and perhaps he’d just cost me my job. Worse, had helped me commit a crime.

He gave me a lazy grin, apparently not noticing how upset I really was. “I tried to tell you.”

I got up from the bed and stalked to the bureau. The slow, hot gush of his seed trickling from my womb stopped me. Pleasurebots don’t ejaculate. I wasn’t prepared for this. I grabbed one of the towels from the bureau and pressed it to the flow of warm semen. The musky scent of it perked my nipples and made my clit twitch in response.

“Why? Why would you do this?” Keeping my voice calm was a struggle. I’d have to make a report, explain my actions. Would Captain Rando believe I really hadn’t seen Declan was a human and not a bot? I’d be sent for reconditioning to update my skills…

“Hey, it wasn’t so bad, was it? I thought you enjoyed it.”

The sound of that grin in his voice made me whirl around on him. “You foron! Do you know what you’ve done? You’ve jeopardized my career! Do you know what happens to Operatives who fornicate with humans while on duty?”

He sat up and frowned. “Hey, wait, I’m sorry—”

“It’s too late to be sorry,” I hissed. I threw the towel to the floor, thought better of it, and folded it up. I’d have to take it with me. If Miriam found a come-soaked towel, she’d have to report me.

He watched as I stepped back into my uniform. “I won’t tell anybody what happened.”

“Shut up,” I whispered. “Do you think that will help? I’m in deep shit, and it’s all your fault!”

“My fault?” He swung his legs over the bed and gathered up his own clothes. “You’re the one who accosted me in the Lovehut. I was minding my own business.”

“You should have told me right away you were not a Pleasurebot.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t want to hear anything I had to say, remember?”

My cheeks burned. “Get out of here.”

He pulled his pants up to his waist, then shrugged into his shirt and stepped into his shoes. “You’re not the only one who’d get into trouble, Gemma. I’d get arrested too.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

BOOK: Passion Model
12.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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