“You’re not drugged. You’re simply amplified.”
Lyric places his hands on my knees.
“You trained him to do this.”
“No,” the Commander says. “Someone else trained him. I just keep him. But in this moment? This is yours. You need to see yourself as different. As above human companions. If you can't look at him and take what he's offering, you won’t last five days at the Celestial Spire.”
Lyric's hands move up to my thighs, and I feel the warmth of his touch through the fabric of my skirt. “May I show you why the officers request me specifically?”he asks, licking his lips slowly, and I imagine that wet tongue between my legs.
I should say no. Every rational part of my mind screams that this is wrong. But my traitorous body wants this, and then there’s the Devil in the background telling me that Lyric wants to do this too. And the age-old comment comes unbidden to my mind,And I bet you think strippers like you.
“Look around you,” the Commander says as Lyric's hands slide higher. “This is the role humans have played in the galaxy for centuries. You must experience the thrill of being with a human companion to understand the allure.”
“I can imagine what the allure is, so I don’t need the physical lesson,” I say, lying through my teeth. I’m so horny, and the Commander and Lyric both know I am not going to say no.
“Madame Eve, please let me taste Earth between your legs,” Lyric says seductively.
The fact he’s never set foot on Earth is heartbreaking, and I turn to the Commander. “Does he have any choice?”
“Do you?” His voice is cold. “Your body has already accepted his invitation, and we both know your mind will follow. And tomorrow you’llbegin serving the elite of the galaxy at the Celestial Spire for credits, despite what you’ve seen. Despite what you know.”
“I signed a contract,” I retort. “Lyric never had a choice. His chains were locked at birth. Mine, I clasped myself.”
The Commander shakes his head slightly. “Your cages were both formed when you were born human. Don’t mistake either illusion for freedom.”
His truth should steady me. But Lyric leans closer then, and breaks my train of thought.
“Oh, sweet Madame Eve,” he breathes, sliding his fingers beneath my blazer to cup the soft swell of my breasts. “Don’t listen to him. Let me kiss you under your skirt. Let me give you pleasure so raw you’ll forget the universe exists altogether.”
His hand trails lower, tugging my skirt up, fingertips brushing the bare skin of my thigh.
I cross my legs tighter, but he only presses in, teasing the edge of my panties, tracing circles that make my hips betray me with a small roll toward him.
My shame burns hot, but my arousal burns even hotter as my body is answering to Lyric’s ministrations in this public place.
Who even am I right now?
The Commander watches. “You see? Even when you resist, your body makes the choice for you.”
Lyric’s hot mouth presses against my panties, his tongue stroking through the soaked fabric until it clings to me like a second skin.
“Open your legs wider for him,” the Commander orders.
And to my surprise, I obey. I want this. And I want the Commander and these men to watch me. The thought of it makes me even more aroused, and I feel so light-headed and strange, I wonder if this is a dream based on something I read in one of my books?
Lyric pushes the fabric covering my pussy aside, and the cold air strikes my bare sex. Then, his hot mouth covers my vulva, his tongue moving with devastating precision, like he was born to do it.
The thought sends shivers down my spine for two reasons, because I thought it unbidden, and because it might be true, as terrible as it is to think that, that someone’s greatest skill might be sex work.I’m a terrible person, I think as I moan loudly at the skin-to-skin contact. It’s been so long since a real man has touched me, and the men I knew never touched me as skillfully as Lyric.I should push him away.
“Good,” the Commander says. “Now, those large human breasts. Unbutton your shirt. Show me what you’ve been hiding. Those bouncing orbs.”
Humiliation and desire crash together. Desire wins and my fingers obey. Slipping one button open, then another, until the shirt falls open. I tug my simple white bra down, and my breasts spill free into the cold air. My nipples are already stiff and aching for attention. The men’s eyes on them only make them tauter.
“Play with them,” the Commander orders. “Pinch those pink nipples. Rub them the way you like it. Let everyone see how you touch yourself, Eve.”
Heat streaks through me. My hands cup and squeeze, fingers rolling my nipples until I arch, displaying myself shamelessly.
Lyric groans into my cunt as if my obedience feeds him; his tongue begins flicking harder and faster.
