Destroy (Sordid 2.5)

When he was ready, he lowered down on one hand and used the other to position himself to bring us together. I held my breath. I wasn’t a woman who jumped into bed with a man. I didn’t give in to lust. Sex was carefully metered out and calculated. My heart was too fragile to risk.

As Luke began to sink inside, I told myself this was necessary and that was all. It had nothing to do with the debilitating need he’d created in me. I took another inch of him in my body and continued to lie to myself. This is a transaction only. Sharing your body with him is closing the deal. You don’t enjoy it, or the sound of his hurried breath in your ear.

But I did enjoy it.

I moaned as he moved all the way inside until we were completely connected. The stretch of him was uncomfortable, yet familiar. It made me feel useful and needed.

He groaned with satisfaction against the side of my neck and then lifted his head to peer down at me. “Okay so far?”

I nodded again. Who knew what would come out of my foolish mouth?

“Good.” He brushed his lips over mine and began to move. His first thrust was slow but deep, and in response, my legs drew up around his waist. This groan from him now was indecent, and I echoed it.

My back was slippery with sweat against the smooth floor, and my tailbone hurt knocking into the hardwood, but the sensation of him claiming me overpowered it. I shut out thought. My hands drifted around his shoulders, and I hung on as Luke took command. He had one rough palm on my waist, pinning me down while he drove into me.

“Jesus, you feel good,” he said.

I shut my eyes, bashful. I wanted to be confident, but that had vanished once the sex started. It was so different. So new. His lips trailed kisses down the side of my throat, and his five o’clock shadow scratched at me like sandpaper.

I whimpered when his hand slid up from my waist and settled on my breast, massaging me where I felt heavy and full. His touch was electric and perfect. Goldilocks had found the bed to sleep in that felt just right to her.

He screwed me on the beautiful floor of his studio for an eternity that I didn’t want to end, even as my hips ached and I was sure my spine was bruised. His thrusts grew powerful and serious, and I gulped for air, unable to do anything but receive and endure. I shook like an earthquake around him and drove my nails into the bare skin of his back. It was the most violent sex I’d willingly participated in, even though it was clear Luke was trying to be gentle. The stress on my body was solely due to the location.

The dark, sick part of me wondered if Sidor would be proud of me. Not because I was having sex that hurt or might leave bruises, but that I’d allowed my desire to lead me, rather than my goals. The robot was capable of feeling. Tonight, I wasn’t thinking about the end game. Only about enjoying sex and taking pleasure in another person.

“Fuck, I want you on top,” Luke said. He took his sweaty, heaving chest away from me and flung himself down on his back, grabbed my waist, and pulled me toward him.

Being in this position brought both physical relief and mental anxiety. I climbed up on him and lowered myself down on his shaft, inch by slow inch, and shuddered. His hands were all over me, exploring and caressing. It distracted me from my worry and self-consciousness. I tried to relax into his hands and let him mold me into whatever creature he wanted me to be.

He guided me to sit upright on him. I rocked my hips in time with his and flashes of electricity sparked from our connection.

It became infinitely easier to go with it when his fingers moved to where we were joined and stirred. My body went on an autopilot program, and I gyrated my hips to maximize his wicked touch. I panted and moaned as something inside me tightened. It gripped my lungs and annihilated everything but a primal need.

“That’s it,” Luke urged in a low voice. “Show me.”

I didn’t like being on display.

I wasn’t art or anything beautiful, but I wasn’t in control anymore. I surrendered to the ecstasy of my orgasm and launched forward, crushing my breasts to his chest, and fused my mouth with his. Pleasure rippled through my body, wave after wave, and it poured from my mouth in breathless moans, followed almost immediately by his own release.

His long gasp of satisfaction was . . . sexy. Erotic. Pride that he’d found his completion with me only last a few moments and then was replaced by a negative voice in my head which sounded suspiciously like my mother’s. I was a warm body, nothing particularly special. Just a vessel for Luke to take pleasure in. He’d used me just as I’d used him.