“You need what, darling? Use your words.”
I tried to form words, but all that left my mouth was incomprehensible babbling.
“Please. I need more. Please.”
“You need my fingers inside you?” She chuckled, but I heard the tension underneath it.
“Yes.” My eyes flew open, my body clenching at the thought. “Oh god. Yes.”
“Beg for it.” Her voice was dark with smug satisfaction.
I swallowed hard. My nerve endings were already fried from the electromagnetic overload, I didn’t even know what feeling her fingers inside me would do – and yet, I couldn’t focus on anything else than the ache her sultry, mocking words stirred in me and how badly I needed her to fill it, fill me.
“Please, Zafyra, I need—I need you to fuck me. With your fingers. Please. I’ll do anything.”
“I know you do, baby.”
Her fingers stilled, so close to where I needed her, but not quite.
My eyes flew open. Something was wrong.
I stumbled back with a sharp turn. The electricity briefly spiked in my nerves before easing as I stumbled through her arms.
“Are you going to fuck me or not?” A blush heated my cheeks as soon as I blurted out the words.
Zafyra glared, but not at me. Her eyes were dark with a hunger I hadn’t seen in her before, one that thrilled me as much as it scared me.
Then, she lowered her gaze.
“I can’t,” she mumbled through gritted teeth.
My eyes widened. On impulse, I grabbed a blanket off the couch and wrapped it tightly around myself.
“You don’t want to?” I glanced up at her insecurely. “Did you—are you still doing this only for me?”
“No,” she said sharply, digging her fingernails into her palm. “You don’t get it. I want it, God damn it. But…” She inhaled sharply. “The tech doesn’t allow it. Not like this.”
I stared at her, not-understanding. My eyelids fluttered, exhaustion tugging at them.
Zafyra took a few deep breaths as if trying to calm herself. “SmartGel only allows for skin-level touch simulation,” she said finally. “It only responds to nerve endings in the skin, meaning it can’t simulate things like tongue kisses or internal penetration.” She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she added, barely audible.
Tears spilled out of my eyes before I could stop myself. My whole body started shaking with ugly, prolonged cries as it collapsed with the emotional weight from everything that just happened.
With a sigh, Zafyra rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Oh, for the love of all that’s holy. Not again.”
That statement was so detached, so harsh after everything we just shared, I only started crying harder.
Zafyra just stood there as I cried. She crossed and uncrossed her arms as if she didn’t know what to do with herself. She looked like she wanted to use her newfound autonomy to yeet herself out of my apartment and back into the safe space of the binary world.
Then, with a sigh that seemed to come all the way from her toes, she sat down on the other side of the couch, keeping a safe distance between us. With unsteady fingers, she took a virtual cigarette from her pocket and lit it – smoking seemed to be her default coping mechanism when confronted with emotions she couldn’t handle. I wanted to tell her not to smoke in my apartment, not even a virtual cigarette because radiation would emit from it, but it was hard to form words between the waterfall of tears.
“Are you crying because I can’t fuck you?” she asked bluntly when my tears finally slowed a little.
“No.” I sniffed, rubbing my tear-stained face with the back of my hand. “Yes. I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
She waited, sucking on her cigarette as if trying to take its soul.
“It’s just—after years of feeling nothing with the wrong people,” I forced out when I could speak again, “this finally feels right – and now… I can’t even touch you.”
