Page 19 of Clonely You

Her smile grows broader. “You really are too much.”

“I am trying not to be,” I tell her earnestly. “If you need me to change?—”

“Do not change a thing. If women don’t like how enthusiastic you are, that’s their problem.” Her finger trails down the front of my tunic, her fingertip hot against my bare skin. “I like your enthusiasm.”

“Kef me, I’msoglad.”

She chuckles at my relief. “Though maybe just wear your own clothes next time. This doesn’t seem very comfortable.” With pinched fingers, she shakes the fabric against my chest. “You’re showing a lot of male cleavage.”

I glance down with a rueful smile. “It’s odd to have so much room up top and for my trou to fit so tight that I’m losing circulation.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” Michaela hooks her finger into the front of my tunic and gives me a teasing look. “Come with me.”

I let her lead me across the room, back to the dining table. She kicks one of the chairs out and indicates that I should sit. When I do, she presses my hands against each arm of the chair. “Can you keep those there?”

“I can.”

“Can you keep them there no matterwhat?”

A prickle of excitement shoots up my spine. “Are you going to start using me for sex now, Michaela?”

She presses her fingers to my lips. “Shh. And maybe don’t say it like that. We’re just fooling around. That’s what humans call it. Nothing serious, just a bit of mutual enjoyment.”

“Fooling around,” I echo, though I’m not keen on the term. It doesn’t sound serious enough for what I feel. “I am yours to fool around.”

“I know.” She hitches her long dress up her thighs and to my great surprise, straddles me on the chair. Her weight settles on my thighs, the heat of her immediately noticeable. She drapes her arms around my neck and leans in. “I’m going to be in charge tonight.”

I nod, not trusting my voice. As far as I’m concerned, she can be in charge every night. Every day, too.

“I thought about tying you up again, but I figured maybe we’d just test your self-control instead.” Her hand trails down my arm. “I’m going to play with you for a while. Consider it my apology for the other day.”

“The…other…day?” I ask, in a lust-filled haze.

“When I kidnapped you.”

How thoughtful. “I wasn’t in danger at any time. I can handle myself.”

It’s clear she doesn’t believe me, but I don’t want to belabor the situation. Not when she’s doing such interesting things with her fingers. They dance across my chest, distracting me from the heated heft of her body pressing against my thighs. I’m fascinated by her nearness. This close, her scent is a marvel, and when she leans in to brush her lips over mine, I all but sigh with pleasure.

“I like touching you,” she murmurs. “I forgot how nice it is to touch another person.”

“You can touch me as much as you like. I enjoy it.”

“Have you been touched much in the past?”

“Almost never.” An a’ani is considered more functional than anything. We are slaves, meant to work without complaint and cause as little trouble as possible. Touching was never a requirement, especially when we were heavily medicated to the point that emotions did not matter. But now that I am free of all of that, I imagine a life where Michaela touches me constantly…and I like it. “No woman has shown enough interest in me to touch me.”

“Fools. All of them. I’ll have to make up all the times you should have been touched.”

“Please do.”

Her fingers lightly trail up my neck, her expression curious. “I know human erogenous zones but I’m curious if aliens have the same ones.”

“There’s one way to find out.”

She chuckles. “I like the way you think. Is your equipment the same, too? I’m not judging, but I’m also not into jump scares. Just let me know what to expect in advance.”

It’s not something I considered. “I…have a cock?”