“Ah! The mushrooms are ready.” I jumped at the soft tone. Blinking heavily against the emerging emotions, I turned to watch the kitchen robot serve the mushroom dish on two plates – no need to be afraid with the main cause of my caution standing next to me, radiating divine beauty and a fresh breeze of nature. I put my hand on the small of her back to gently guide her to the table – this was not even an official date and yet, it felt more like one than any of those TempoLove dates.
Zafyra tilted her head as she pricked her fork into a piece of kimchi, twirling it slowly – how could she make even the simplest movements seem so sensually elegant?
“This is a first for me.” She put it in her mouth and chewed only twice before swallowing it, humming softly in appreciation. “As per your earlier question – I’m not sure if this body can digest it, but we will find out. These bodies are built to absorb nutrients from anything we consume and shed the rest. As long as it’s organic, I will try it – though I will never eat this crap from your supermarkets.” She made a disgusted face. “You call that food? It’s packed with pesticides and chemicals.”
“Everything I cook and eat is organic.” I sat up straighter, a smile playing around my lips despite everything. “So you don’t ever have to worry about pesticides with me.”
Zafyra smiled a little before putting her cutlery down. I glanced up, unsure about her shift in emotions. Despite the brief escape to casual conversation, the tension had not left the air, but slowly thickened around us.
She grimaced, as if she had to fight her very core programming to speak the words.
I waited.
“I’m sorry.” She spoke the words through gritted teeth, visibly struggling. “I’m sorry for killing that woman and for trying to kill your best friend.” She snorted. “I’m not sorry for the dickhead, he deserved it.”
I blinked slowly, unsure if I had heard it right.
“I’ll work on it, okay?” She lowered her gaze, speaking through gritted teeth. “When you walked out on me in the facility, I realized something. I’m programmed to have no purpose other than mirroring your desires, and I always thought that should be enough. But now that I’m here in the physical world with you…” She shrugged helplessly. “I want this to become something healthy, I really do. I want to find a purpose beyond loving you.” She bit her lip, leaning back in the chair. “I just don’t know how.”
She put the knife vertically on the table, its pointed edge lightly planted into the wood while her elegant fingers started twirling it. I tried not to stare at the movements, but when I didn’t, my gaze was relentlessly drawn to her throat and cleavage again.
“It’s okay that you don’t know yet,” I said finally, flashing an encouraging smile. “Many people go through life not knowing their purpose – or choosing to ignore it. Do you think enduring corporate drama in customer service is my purpose?” I rolled my eyes, to my relief igniting a small laugh from her. “But what matters is that you’re willing to try. You have many talents, you’re charming, you’ll get there.” To my annoyance, my cheeks flushed again, but I ignored it. “And bots like you are also programmed to know only one kind of love – the romantic one. That’s why Lucie still struggles to understand that Raphael and Joey are kind to her without expecting sexual favors, and Raphael keeps telling every woman who smiles at him that he won’t marry her. But they’re trying, they’re willing to learn… and so are you.”
I leaned back in the chair as I watched her eat. She didn’t eat like normal people. She examined each bite before putting it into her mouth, as if deciding whether it was worth being her food. She never chewed more than once or twice, slowly and thoughtfully, like she was not just feeding her body, but her brain, too.
Her beauty reminded me of a Baroque painting – elegant, dramatic, sinister, addictive. As if she existed in this world and one beyond,simultaneously, and kneeling for her was the key to ancient wisdom. Watching her brought literal tears to my eyes.
She was so beautiful, so complex, and she could’ve had anyone she wanted, but she was here with me. Making an effort to learn about my world, to work on her toxic behaviors – albeit reluctantly.
And she was all mine. Letting me admire her, touch her, worship her. She talked about deserving me, but what had I done to deserve her?
She dipped her ring finger in the sauce and leaned back to study it against the light. Then, she put it into her mouth, closing her eyes as she sucked on it. My mouth watered, and not for the food.
Her eyes flickered open. A small, knowing smile played around her lips when her gaze locked with mine and she slowly withdrew her finger from her mouth with a soft pop.
“You’re biting your lip again,” she murmured. I instantly released my bottom lip from my teeth. “And you have barely touched your food.”
I blinked, glancing down at our plates. While hers was empty, mine was still half full.
I cleared my throat. “I was distracted,” I said weakly. I picked up my fork, but my stomach protested at the idea of food when I was suddenly hungry for something else. For me, arousal and appetite never went well together.
“Ah, you poor thing,” Zafyra said mockingly, folding her hands in front of her. “I didn’t let you come last time, did I?”
My breath hitched. I shook my head, suddenly unable to speak.
Her smirk changed into a grin. Her tongue darted out to touch her teeth. “That must be so hard for you,” she muttered, slightly leaning closer to me over the table. “So eager to please me, while being denied your own release.”
“It’s fine. I… I helped myself later, at home.” I lowered my head, letting my hair fall in front of my face to hide my burning cheeks. My throat felt too tight to get proper words out.
“Oh, I’m sure you did.” She reached out to cup my cheek over the table. A sigh escaped me as I leaned into her touch, little flames erupting all over my body. “I bet you’ve been touching yourself every night, thinking about my fingers.” Her hand reached back to entangle in my hair. “Trying to reach the spots only I can touch,” she whispered huskily.
I pressed my lips tightly together to keep involuntary sounds out, tightening my grip on the table.
“Be honest,” she whispered as her obsidian eyes seemed to blacken even further. “You need me to fuck you, right now. Don’t you?”
“No,” I whispered back, even though her voice sparked a tingling heat between my thighs. “I want to make love to you. With you. If you’ll allow me.”
That seemed to catch her off guard. She let go of me, her manicured eyebrows shaping into a frown as she leaned back. “Is it not the same thing?”
