Page 16 of Entity

“Why?” I whine, rolling my hips involuntarily, already aching, dying to come. All he’s done is kiss me; all he’s done is sit me against the length of his hard, waiting cock, and I’m already begging for it. All I want is to feel him inside me. I want to come until I’m crying, just like Ian promised.

“Do what he says,” Ian orders, and I remember hazily that he’s still behind me, still watching, voyeuristic.

Eros lowers his head to my chest, licking a nipple with a languid tongue. I anchor my fingers in his hair, the sensation sending wavelengths of pleasure jolting through me.

“Because,” Eros says, “this might hurt.”

I don’t question. I want it. Whatever he’s going to give me, I want it.

I clamp my teeth on his shoulder, and he even tastes like salt, like human skin.

And then Eros grabs me by the waist, lifting me up a few inches and adjusting himself, and slams me down on his cock until he’s deep inside me.

I bite him hard, my cry muffled against Eros’s skin. The sensation is so intense I almost black out, but it doesn’t hurt. Instead, it’soverwhelming. Almosttoogood. Like I’ve never been filled like this before, fucked so matter-of-factly and so precisely. It’s like he’s not reading my mind; he’s reading mybody.

He’s bottomed out inside me. Just like I wanted. I’m almost afraid to move, afraid that it will send me over the edge too soon.

Then rough hands grab me from behind, one tangled in my hair, the other reaching over my shoulder to massage my breast.Ian pulls my head all the way back until I’m gazing up at him, breathing hard, exposed, and shaking with unspent ecstasy.

Ian is still fully dressed. He kisses me roughly, awkwardly from this angle, and then he slides his hand down to between my legs where I’m joined with Eros, my cunt full and aching. He presses a finger to my clit, and I gasp, the sound of a desperate woman.

“Ride his cock,” Ian growls in my ear.

He loosens his grip on my hair enough for me to find a good angle, but he remains pressed against my back, his hand at the nape of my neck, a low sting at the roots of my hair where he’s pulling.

It’s an easy order to obey. I roll my hips slowly at first, feeling out this new lover, getting a sense of his girth inside me, which angles work best. But God—everyangle works best. I move in small circles, and I feel like I’m ascending. I bounce high, slamming his pelvis against mine, and it’s a miracle of pleasure. I’m at the edge of orgasm, the heady, breathless edge of the fall, for what feels like hours. Years.

Eros touches me exactly where I need it, kisses me when and where I want it. All meaningful thought flees my mind, and I’m a figment, an electrical impulse, ricocheting from obscene ecstasy to decadent rapture.

Ian’s fingers are still pressed firmly on my clit. And then he circles me once, slowly.

“Come for us, Kit,” says Eros.

I whimper, every muscle in my body taut, as I crest the wave.

“Now,” Ian orders.

So I do. And when the seemingly endless drowning pleasure subsides, when I can think and breathe and see again, Eros strokes my cheek so softly, so sweetly, that I can’t hold it in anymore. Tears slide down my face, a desperate release.

Fucking Christ.

“Good,” Eros breathes, holding me to his chest. “Beautiful.”

“That was fun,” Ian says, voice low and husky. I turn to look at him, Eros still deep inside me. Ian is rock-hard and breathing heavily, his pupils large and dark. “You enjoy that?”

I did. God help me, I enjoyed it. “Yes.”

He licks his lips. Then he looks away, and I’m not sure he’s even talking tomeanymore. “Good. Good. It gets better every time with Eros.” He glances back at me, brows drawn low, and a shadow flickers across his expression. “He’ll never be the prototype, but he’s still spectacular.”

And then Ian stalks away, toward what must be his room, and disappears down a corridor. I wonder if he’s going to jerk himself off now.Iwould if I were him. I wonder if he has a voyeur kink, ifthisis how he tests the Pleasurebots.

And most of all, I wonder, ifthisis what it’s like with Eros… what the fuck would it be like with the prototype?

Alone with Eros and suddenly self-conscious, I slide off his cock. It springs out of me, still hard. I hurriedly pull on my clothes. Eros only watches, and I swear his expression is… it’s almost like he’s enjoying it. But he’s programmed for that, to look eager. To look hungry.

I pause while fastening my jeans. “Eros,” I say, “do you… I mean, did you want to—”

“No, thank you,” he says, languidly fisting his cock. “I could help myself if I wanted to. But I’m satisfied. You make the most delicious sounds when you come.”

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