I hadn't considered myself being lunch, but Chris is.
I'm against the wall, caught between a wall of screens and a grimly determined man on his knees. A man whose tongue is on my clit with his fingers curling inside my pussy. I'd lost my ability to scream half an hour ago, and all I have to offer him are pleas of mercy—pleasure.
Sweat clings to my skin and my hair sticks to my neck and back. My pants, still partially clinging to my right leg, are a crumpled mess under his knees. In my ears, my heartbeat thuds heavily.
Charlie's surgery is underway. He's under anesthesia and a powerful paralytic. For this surgery to be a success, he must be completely still. Any movement could dislodge a clamp, offset the saws and drills, and ultimately destroy tissue or create irreparable damage.
I should be thinking about him. I should be standing at the window, comparing what Iris sees to what I see. I should be supportive, as I promised. Instead, I'm at Chris' mercy, sinking my fingers into his hair and shoulder as I rock my pussy against his mouth.
I'm close. So fucking close to falling apart for the second time. I want it. I want him.
His tongue is a dangerous weapon whenever it's used, but especially like this. They'll be bruises on my thighs and hips from his grip. I'm glad they'll fade within an hour or two.
It's firm against my clit, circling at a measured pace. My hips move in rhythm, hoping to get closer, but he pulls away until I growl in frustration. I have no room to argue—he did tell me not to move.
Let him do the work. Let him make me come. But he should know I make my own rules.
The gentle suction roughens as do his fingers, and I gasp, clinging to him as my vision flickers and my eyes roll back in my head. Fuck. How is he so good at this?
My head thuds to the wall and I call his name. It's a low raspy thing, drawn raw with my voice. I'm shaking all over. Teeth chattering, I come for him a second time.
I orgasm twice more before he finally releases me. As his eyes meet mine, I dash away, yanking my underwear and pants over my legs. He watches, eyes hooded with a smirk on his face.
"What are you doing?"
I motion to the feast set on the white, oval-shaped table separating us. It, like Charlie's bed, floats on electric blue light. Scores of food sit on warming trays, steam wafting off of them.
My stomach growls in protest, hoping I opt to sit down and pile my plate high with beef, chicken and veggies. And dessert... a white chocolate cheesecake topped with a blueberry compote. What do I have to do to get a peaceful meal around here?
"Our lunch is getting cold."
Pointedly, he glances at the warming trays with a raised eyebrow. "The dishes are steaming."
"For now," I argue, gathering my pants together to button, zip, and re-belt.
"Take off your pants, Blue." He commands me. "Underwear, too. You won't be needing them anyway."
"I—I should eat." Stammering, I play chicken with him, casually moving to the other side of the table as he rounds it. He's right on my heels—a man on a mission. Before the augmentation, he probably would have caught me, but it's more difficult now.
He may be stronger, but I am faster. Catching me won't be easy. He'll need to set a trap and I can sense the wheels in his head turning. If I'm not careful, the only eating happening in this room will be him eating me.
"You can eat food and I can eat you."
I gulp. "You've eaten enough."
"Isn't that the same thing I said to you this morning? Yet, I distinctly remember you sucking me harder."
Heat spears my cheeks. "I may have gotten carried away this morning."
"May have?"
Okay. I did.
But I don't know how he expects me to keep my hands off of him. It started as a surprise—a gift—for his patience while Charlie and I sorted out this augmentation business. The moment my lips wrapped around his cock, I lost my mind.
If I hadn't had Charlie's surgery planned for this morning, we may still be in bed with his cock down my throat. There's nothing sexier than hearing a man groan and moan your name. I'd made his toes curl, and let him direct my every move.
When he said lick, I did. When he said suck, I did. And when he told me to swallow, I did.
And now, I'm paying the price.
"Are you saying you didn't enjoy it?"
He pauses, eyebrows furrowing. "You know I did."
"Then what's the problem?"
"You started it, and now I'm finishing it."
"But Chris... I did finish, remember?"
He smiles, and my heart stuttering heart skips a beat. He's beautiful all times of the day, but when he smiles... I fucking swoon like those women in those romance movies. I want to always see a smile on his face.
It's my second favorite expression.
Studying me, Chris raises his hand. My release coats his index and middle finger. As our gazes lock, he lifts them to his mouth and licks them clean.
"I want more."
My stomach drops and I scramble away as he comes toward me a second time. I know that look. If I let him touch me, there won't be any talking—just fucking—and we need to discuss the elephant in the room. Us.
What's going to happen when Charlie physically and mentally joins the fray? What will happen to our cozy corner of privacy? How are things meant to continue after this?
"You can have more." I rush out, moving near the door. "Later. I promise."
"When?"
"Uhhh... tonight?"
His head shakes, and his voice drops an octave when he responds. "I'd rather have you across this table. Come here, Blue."
I nearly do.
"Chris, just listen... okay?"
"I'm listening..."
"Look, we need to talk about what happens when Charlie gets out of surgery and I need to apologize for not sitting you down and talking about this. It's not fair—ah!"
Chris lunges across the table, easily clearing it in a single bound. Shrieking, I bolt! I make it to the doorway of the operating theater before a hand closes around my wrist, yanking me back into an iron embrace.
As he climbs the stairs, his left-hand slips inside my pants to cup my pussy. Panting, I rut my hips against his fingers, shivering when they push my pants to the side. I'm wet for him without a thought.
I'm all his. Wet, wanting and spreading my legs wider to give his hand room. Quickly, he undoes my belt and pants, clawing them down my legs with underwear. He has me bent over the empty side of the table, splitting me open with his cock seconds later.
"You're so fucking wet."
I'm glad it's only Chris like this. If it were both of them, I'd drown. This man never seems to tire of looking at me, touching me, kissing me, or fucking me.
I started it this morning, but I start it every morning. If I wake up before him, I suck him in bed, and if I wake up after, I suck him on his way out of the shower. He's never demanded it and the wicked smile he releases when he sees me get down on my knees sweetens the deal.
And he always pays it back—several times over.
Roughly, he sinks a hand into my hair and twists it around his fist. Then he fucks me. Punishing, deep thrusts meant to break me in half. His hips slam into mine, rattling the food, dishes, and utensils on the table.
I lift on my tiptoes and groan, angling to take him as deep as possible. His other hand rests on my waist, arching my back. In the glass, our reflections cast a dark shadow.
An erotic show no one else is watching. The drills kick on, biting through bone, muscle and marrow to free unnecessary parts. They're replaced with shiny new ones, accompanied by blasts of micro-nanites straight to Charlie's brain.
While he undergoes his transformation, Chris savagely reminds me to whom I belong. Slapping skin and pleasured moans bleed out of the both of us. I clutch the ends of the table in my hands so hard my knuckles turn white and the ends crack.
"Fuck, Blue." My legs slip open further, widening to accommodate his size. "There you go. Open up for me. You're so wet."
Only for him.
"You're gonna make me come for you, again."
I hope so.
"You're gonna take all of it. Understood?"
Whimpering, I nod.
"Words." He bites out. His thrusts are vicious, consuming and rattling my entire body. There's so much strength in him and the control he touts is slipping, falling under the tide of lust and oblivion. If he's not careful, he'll fuck me straight through this steel table. "Say it."
"I'm going to take all of it."
His hand at my waist slides forward and under my twisted shirt, cupping my bouncing breast. His fingers pinch my nipple, and I cry out. Pain and pleasure collide, solidly mixing the longer our hips meet.
The harsh thumps grow louder and more insistent as the scent of sex bathes the room. Each time he bottoms inside of me, my legs quake and nearly give out. He knows my body better than I do, and he fucks it better than even my own fingers can.
Desperate to finish, I rut my hips and push backward to meet him halfway. Breath after breath sears my lungs, and my mouth drops open in a silent scream. All at once, I come.
"I'll never let you go."
A vow. One I cherish as he comes inside of me. Heat blossoms in my abdomen, but I can't focus on anything other than his cock as he continues to pound his orgasm to the end.
When he pulls out, he hasn't softened at all. I watch as he tucks himself back into his pants.
"Now, you can eat."
He serves my food for me. I sit in a chair, sans pants and underwear, as he carefully piles my favorites onto a plate.
"I'm sorry for not talking to you about Charlie's augmentation."
He peeks at me, eyebrows furrowed and mouth frowning. "You don't owe me an apology. If it were your choice, you would have spoken to me about it first."
"Yes, I would have, but I should have spoken to you about it, instead of—"
"Sucking my dick?"
I chuckle, hiding my face. "It was for a good cause."
He knew I was initiating sex to save myself from an uncomfortable discussion. I'm not sure if I should be upset or happy he didn't push me.
"I knew you'd come to me when you were ready and Ryker has a mind of his own about things."
"He does," I murmur over a mouthful of hot beef roast. Juicy, soft and smothered in brown gravy, I jam in a second bite and moan. "This is amazing."
"I'm glad you like it."
"You made this?"
"Did you forget I can cook?"
Touched, I grasp his hand. "Thank you."
"But..."
"But I have something else to tell you."
"What's wrong?" He's instantly on alert, analyzing every inch of me for injury. "Did something happen?"
"Ryker is expanding the team. He sent me a candidate to review."
"Which one?"
I frown. "You know?"
"No." Chris shook his head. "I suspected. He asked me to take a look at a few options after Charlie was brought aboard. I figured eventually he'd add a few more."
"I'm fine with the two of you."
"That may be true to you, but honestly, the more people between you and an enemy—the better."
"You're not cannon fodder."
"To you." He says. "Ryker thinks of us as easily replaceable, and while I hate being thought of as a rise and throw-away napkin, if anything to happens to me or Charlie, it's best to have someone else already familiar with you."
His words make me lose my appetite, but I force myself to keep eating. I've burned thousands of calories today and I can't skip meals.
"Did he send you a name?"
"Yes." I check the file, checking the first name. "Michael.
"When does he get in?"
"Day after tomorrow."
"Good."
"Why is that good?" I ask, laughing lightly.
"Because it gives me time to fuck you a few more times."
Squeezing my legs together, I will away the need tingling my clit. "You'd better hurry."
I'm sore and fuck drunk when Charlie comes out of surgery. And while I thought I was mentally prepared to have him in my head when he woke up, I'm not. Things only improve or worsen—I'm not sure which—the second he easily stands from his bed, grabs me by the neck and smashes his lips to mine.