Sample Sunday: More Than A Man
Excerpt:
The seamsdroid's ocular lenses flashed a rapid pattern. Its mechanically modulated voice said, "These are flat-fronted trousers. You are ruining the line."
"What's wrong?" Noelle looked up from her 'fone, a frown creasing her brow.
Aya hesitated but they were alone in the small shop and the seamsdroid had already ascertained his condition. He shrugged. "Evidently my imagination is inconvenient."
The construct coasted backward. "Fix it. Remove the garment first."
Noelle's gaze skimmed down his chest and landed at his groin. Her cheeks flushed bright red. She stood awkwardly. Aya tilted his head, fascinated by the color, by the
signals she put off. Her nipples strained visibly at the fabric of her top but her shoulders were stiff and square as if she were angry. She crossed the sales floor, avoiding the
seamsdroid's ocular lenses as if she were embarrassed. Interesting.
"Aya," she whispered, casting a covert glance toward the construct. "What are you doing?"
Oh. She didn't like this situation at all. Even more fascinating, a discomfited Noelle pushed him from half-erect to painfully-hard. Casually, he unfastened the trousers.
Noelle's eyes widened before her lashes swept down, obscuring her eyes and redirecting her attention to his hands. A deep breath lifted her breasts.
"Deity," she whispered. Louder, "We're…you…"
Aya lowered the zipper.
Noelle swallowed. She waved to indicate the shop. "Public."
"I need clothes," he reasoned. "Manporium only provides one set. Do you want me to leave without anything? We'd have to start over again another day and we've already
been here half the afternoon."
She cast a glance at the street outside the boutique display window. A pair of policemen buzzed past, slow on their hovercycles because of the foot traffic congestion.
Noelle moistened her lips. "Public indecency is a criminal offense."
He hooked his thumbs in the waist. Noelle looked from the window to his groin and worried her bottom lip, her eyes so expressively indecisive. Aya didn't need VioletFang
tech to read her mind, to know she was remembering and weighing possibilities. She'd writhed beneath him, begged for immediacy, and he'd bet his Free-Walk License that
right then, she was deciding she could have his cock without a fight—his cock in her mouth, in her slick pussy. Calculating, planning, cause-and-effect evaluating.
While she watched, Aya stroked himself through the trousers, tracing the ridge of his erection with his middle finger. Even though he didn't need the VioletFang, he suddenly
wished he had it. Did she conclude he wouldn't make her squirm and beg, wouldn't play the power games she loved/hated? Did she think he'd have to be quick?
Deciding not to disabuse her of the notion too soon, he reached for her and tugged at her wrist. "Come with me."
Noelle shuddered. Beneath his fingertips, her pulse skipped and sped. Aya ducked his head and spoke in her ear. "Yeah. Come with me."
"Deity," she breathed. "This is dangerous. You could be recycled—"
Aya aborted her paranoid protests by licking into her mouth. She moaned, softened, and allowed him to pull her from the sales floor and into a tight, small square of a room. He backed her up against the mirrored wall and fumbled to lock the door without breaking contact with her lips. Noelle kissed like a starving creature, greedy and taking.
She'd suck him with the same hunger, but not yet. He wanted answers and he wouldn't get them if he silenced her with his cock.
Pinning her with his mouth, he quickly divested himself of his shirt and shucked the trousers carelessly, pricking himself with pins in the process. One of the pins caught Noelle's palm as she reached greedily for his ass. She jumped and jerked her head back, a soft thump against the mirror, gasping, "Ow!"
Her lips said "Ow" but her nipples beaded against him, prominent through her sweater. On a hunch, Aya nipped the tender flesh beneath her jaw. Noelle jolted a second time. Her hips swiveled, pushed toward him. Suddenly, spanking her lacked imagination.
Before he consciously puzzled through the change in plans, his skin prickled and pressure rippled down his stomach and surged beneath his shirt. Black limbs spun from his body,
twined around her wrists and stretched her arms wide.
"Aya!"
"Shh." He widened her stance with his feet and settled against her sex. "We're going to play a game and your hands are in the way."
"A game?" She glanced sidelong at the muscular binding wrapped around her left wrist.
"Yes, a game." Aya narrowed his eyes, carefully observing her response, relieved to detect wary curiosity instead of revulsion. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she flexed her hands and tested his hold. Ducking his head, he nuzzled the underside of her jaw and nipped her earlobe before whispering, "I'm stronger than you and you're not getting free. You may as well agree to play."
"Fine," she breathed. "What's the game?"
"Twenty questions. I ask, you answer." He nudged her legs wider and planted his boots between her dainty ballet flats. This close to her, his balls ached. The gentle curve of her abdomen accepted his cock easily, a soft cushion inviting him to rub against her.
"Ready?"
–
Elise Logan
http://www.scorchedsheets.com
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