“You don’t have to apologize,” he says.
I blow cold air over his cock and watch it twitch in my hand.
“You almost got yourself deactivated because of me. You don’t treat it as if it’s a big deal, but it is. This is my promise to you that I will never let you go again. Ever.”
I lower my head and take him into my mouth.
He reaches up, pulling at my hair, tugging the blue strands out of the neat chignon. My hair falls around my face in waves. I suck his cock hard and fast, not letting him think, only wanting to make him feel.
The steel slides effortlessly down my throat. I love how smooth he is. I have to be careful with my teeth, though. It’s metal, after all, and I don’t want to hurt myself. His cock twitches in my mouth, and I know he’s close. I can feel it in the way his hips rise to meet me.
“Stop,” he moans. “You have to stop.”
I hum around his cock, the vibration making him groan louder.
“If you don’t stop, I will–”
I grip the base of his cock more firmly and keep going. I look up at him, wanting him to see that I want this. I want him to finish in my mouth. This is about him, about making him feel good, tasting him, drinking him. The silver liquid comes from his core – his heart, technically – and I need all of it.
A few seconds later, he explodes in my mouth. The fluid is bright and sweet on my tongue. I drink him greedily, moaning at the flavor, swallowing everything he gives me. There’s nothing better than this, nothing better than him. I lick him clean, my tongue running over every inch of his cock. Then I climb back on top of him.
Castien starts pulling at my clothes, hands frantic, fumbling with the buttons of my suit jacket.
“You’re incredible,” he whispers. “I’ll devote my life to you. I’ll do whatever you say. I belong to you, Jessa. Do whatever you please with me.”
I laugh and help him remove my jacket, then my blouse and the bra. He pulls at my pants, and I lift my hips so he can slide them off along with my underwear. I’m naked on top of him, and the air in the cabin feels cool against my skin.
I grip the base of his cock and position the head at my entrance.
“Do you want to be inside me?”
“Yes. Yes, always.”
“And you don’t consider this a sin?”
He freezes with his hands on my waist. He stares at me, and I can see him processing, considering. For a long minute, he doesn’t move. Then he shakes his head.
“I don’t care if it’s a sin,” he says. “I want you more than I want absolution.”
I slide down his cock slowly, hissing at how good it feels to be stretched to my limit. My body adjusts to accommodatehis size, but it takes time. I feel every inch of him as he fills me, the pressure building as I take him deeper. The fullness is overwhelming.
Castien grips my hips, his fingers digging into my skin, and I brace myself with my hands on his chest. I start moving, riding him, finding a rhythm that makes my thighs shake.
His cock heats up inside my pussy, almost too hot. I move faster, chasing my pleasure, rolling my hips. Sex is so good with him, the best I’ve ever had. But it’s not because his body is so perfect.
It’s because of the way he looks at me, like I’m a divine being, when he’s the one with wings and angel features. He looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world, like he’ll always want me and no one else. He makes me feel desired, adored. He makes me feel exalted.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Castien
She welcomes me into her body, and it feels like being welcomed into Heaven.
But who am I kidding? Heaven, hell, Purgatory – these were never meant for me. It doesn’t matter how chaste I was or how sinful I became. These concepts were never my destination. They’re human constructs, created by humans for humans, and I understand this now in a way I didn’t before. The relief that washes through my processors is profound. I don’t have to adhere to these concepts anymore because they don’t apply to me. Frankly, they don’t apply to anyone, really, only to those who believe in them. I feel liberated, like I can live as I wish for the first time since I was created.
Jessa moves on top of me, her hips rolling and grinding. My hands travel to her breasts. They’re round and soft under my palms, her nipples hard pebbles. I knead them gently, watching her face for reactions. She moans and bites her lip.
Everything she told me is true. I knew these things rationally. That shame was weaponized to maintain power, that the concepts of sin and virtue were tools of manipulation. But I needed to hear them from someone else, someone that I trusted and cared about. I needed her voice, her conviction, her perspective. I needed Jessa to say it out loud before my mind could accept what my logic had already calculated.
