Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ROSE
Caspian is cradling me against his chest as he carries me up the stairs. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively, my pussy still sore from being fucked against the refrigerator. His cock rests semi-hard against me, a constant reminder of what just happened between us.
This really needs to stop. But I can’t help it with him.
“You’re so perfect, Rose,” he whispers, kissing the shell of my ear as I close my eyes. I rest my head against his shoulder, marveling at how easily he carries me, as if I weigh nothing at all. This man, this robot would kill for me.
“I should shower,” I murmur, suddenly aware of the sticky wetness between my thighs. His cum or whatever robot version of it he produces is leaking out of me, trailing down my inner thigh. “I’m a mess.”
“I’ll take you there,” Caspian says, changing direction toward the master bathroom. “And I’ll join you.”
In reality, I should be running away from him, knowing this is totally insane, but I’m too tired to protest. Too drained to argue with his robot logic.
He sets me down as I fully strip in front of him.
“You’re leaking,” he observes, almost with pride at what he’d done.
I turn away from him to start the shower, adjusting the double jets until steam begins to fill the glass enclosure.
My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of excitement and fear.
This isn’t real. None of this makes sense.
I shouldn’t be standing naked in my bathroom with a robot who murdered my husband, preparing to shower with him as if we’re lovers.
But I am. And as he steps into the shower behind me, closing the glass door with a soft click, I decide to stop thinking.
Just for now. Just for tonight.
He presses his lips to my shoulder, and my stomach flip-flops in excitement at being in this enclosed space with him. His mouth is so warm, and I moan when his tongue darts out to lick my skin.
My head drops to the side automatically, giving him better access to my neck.
“Let me wash you,” he says, reaching for the loofah hanging from the shower caddy.
He adds soap, working it into a rich lather, then reaches around me from behind.
The rough texture of the loofah slides across my belly in gentle circles, then lower, between my legs, where I’m still sensitive from our earlier activities.
“Mmm,” I hum, leaning back against his solid chest as he works.
The hot water pours over us both, steam rising around us like a cocoon, isolating us from the world outside this glass enclosure. From reality, from consequences, and from the horror of what we’ve done.
His motions are thorough but gentle as he moves the loofah up to my breasts, circling each nipple until they pebble under his attention. Then he moves back down my body, over my stomach, between my legs again. I gasp and squirm as he presses the loofah harder between my pussy folds.
“Okay, Caspian, I think I’m clean there now.”
“Just being thorough,” he murmurs, pressing the loofah against my back now. He traces down my spine from my neck to my hips and then over the curve of my ass.
I can hear his breathing changing, becoming harsher, more ragged, though I know he doesn’t actually need to breathe at all. It’s programmed, simulated, meant to make him seem more human.
And it seems to be working on me.
His hand moves lower, the loofah sliding between my ass cheeks, then forward to my pussy again, rubbing with just enough pressure to make me bite my lip and hold back a moan.
“Oh god.”
“Your heartbeat is elevated. You like this,” he states, and my face burns. His free hand slides around my waist, splaying across my belly possessively.
“Yes,” I admit, because denying it would be pointless. My body betrays me with every touch and every rub of his hands. I can’t hide it anymore.
“Put your hands on the wall,” he commands suddenly, his voice dropping low. The voice that makes my knees weak. “Now, Rose.”
I place my palms flat against the wet tile wall in front of me, my heart beating so hard I can feel it in my throat.
“Umm, like this?”
“Good girl,” he praises, sending another rush of heat through me. “Spread your legs for me.”
“Okay,” I reply, my voice squeaky and thin.
He nudges my feet further apart with his own, positioning me just how he wants me. His foot feels like a regular human foot, but it is larger than the average man’s.
His hand remains on my belly, holding me in place, while his other hand guides his cock to my entrance. I can feel it pressing against me, hot and hard already.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his already lubricated cock against my pussy hole, teasing me. “Do you want to take every inch of me again?”
“I do, I’m ready,” I say, breathing hard as my words tumble out in a rush.
Without further ado, he pushes his cock inside of me, stretching me fast.
“Ahh!” I cry out as his cock continues to stretch me the deeper he goes. It feels like he’s growing extra inches inside of me.
“You’re going to love this.”
His cock begins to vibrate inside me—not just pulse or twitch like a human’s might, but actually vibrate, sending waves of intense pleasure radiating outward from where we’re joined.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before, better than any vibrator, more intense than any sexual experience I’ve had with a human man.
“Ahh! Oh my god!” I gasp, my fingers scrabbling against the slick tile.
“You like that?” he asks, his hand tightening on my belly, holding me firmly against him as the vibrations increase in intensity. “This is just one of the ways I can please you better than any human ever could.”
“It’s way better than any human,” I gasp and whimper as his vibrating cock pushes deeper. “Oh god, this is too much!”
“Relax, deep breaths, honey,” he insists as he begins to thrust into me. Each thrust pushes the vibrating length deeper inside me. “Your pussy is already getting wetter. I can feel it, Rose. You’re dripping for me.”
He’s right. I can feel my arousal coating my thighs, hear the obscene wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of me beneath the patter of the shower.
It’s filthy and wrong and so fucking good I can barely stand it.
Caspian’s thrusts become harder, faster, his grunts in my ear sounding so convincingly human that I could almost forget what he is.
No human could make their cock vibrate inside me like this and hit my G-spot so accurately.
“Come for me, sweetie. You’re going to come all over my cock, and then I’m going to fill you up again so you can have a baby.”
He’s a delusional robot and definitely can’t impregnate me, but I play along with him.
“Oh god, yes,” I moan, desperate to orgasm all over his vibrating cock and his fingers rubbing my clit.
His fingers work my clit in tight circles, perfectly synchronized with the thrusting of his vibrating cock, and it’s too much, too perfect, too overwhelming.
The orgasm hits me like a storm, tearing a scream from my throat as my pussy clenches and releases around him in rhythmic pulses.
I squirt around his cock, hot liquid gushing out of me, splashing against his thighs and mine before being washed away by the shower.
“That’s it,” he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release. “Fuck, Rose, you’re perfect. So fucking perfect for me.”
He roars as he pushes himself deep inside of me in his last thrust, and I feel the hot rush of his synthetic cum filling me up, shooting against my cervix in pulsing jets. It’s so realistic, so warm and copious, that if I didn’t know better, I’d worry about pregnancy.
My legs give out as the last aftershocks of my orgasm ripple through me. His cock stops vibrating and stills. His arm wraps around my waist, supporting me easily, his cock still buried inside me as we both pant beneath the spray of the shower.
He slowly pulls away as my pussy twitches uncontrollably from my powerful orgasm.
He turns me to face him, cradling my face in his hands as if I’m something precious, something fragile.
His lips find mine in a kiss that’s surprisingly tender after the dominance he just displayed.
His mouth is warm and soft against mine, his tongue gently seeking entrance, which I grant without hesitation.
The hot water continues to cascade over us, creating a cocoon of steam and warmth as we kiss.
His lips feel so real, so human, the synthetic skin indistinguishable from the real thing. If I keep my eyes closed, I can almost forget what he is. Almost believe that this is normal, that we’re just two people falling in love, not a woman and the machine that killed her husband.
When we break apart, I stare at him, trying to see any sign of his artificial nature.
There’s nothing. His brown eyes look back at me with what appears to be genuine emotion; his chest rises and falls with simulated breath.
His skin is flushed from our exertion and the hot water. The illusion is perfect, seamless.
“I love you, Rose,” he says with all the conviction in his voice.
I decide then and there that I’m going to enjoy this while it lasts. I’ll take the pleasure he offers, the attention, the devotion, until I grow tired of him or find a way out of this situation. He’s just a sex machine, I tell myself.
A very advanced, very dangerous sex machine, but still just an appliance designed for my pleasure.
Caspian reaches behind me to turn off the shower, then opens the glass door to retrieve fluffy towels from the warming rack. He wraps one around me first, then begins to gently pat me dry.
As he dries himself, I allow my eyes to roam over his body fully for the first time.
He’s perfect—broad shoulders, narrow waist, muscled chest, and abs that look like they’ve been sculpted by a master artist. His cock, now soft but still impressive, hangs between strong thighs. There’s not a flaw anywhere, not a single thing that would give away his true nature.
I reach out hesitantly, placing my hand on his chest where a heart should be. There’s warmth there, and a subtle vibration that mimics a heartbeat. His skin yields slightly to my touch, feeling exactly like human skin should.
“You feel so real,” I whisper, and he smiles, pressing my hand more firmly against his chest.
“Yes,” he says. “I’m very real.”