Passion Model Read online

  “I’ll be testing your reactions to sexual stimuli while in performance mode,” I explained to him. I know I sounded matter of fact, but the fact of the matter was that my sex had begun to throb. My nipples too. My training from the Academy conditioned me to respond to sex as well as most of these Pleasurebots. Better, in fact, than some of them. The difference is, Pleasurebots are designed to achieve frequent and swift orgasm. R.I. Ops are trained to resist climax, so we can concentrate on our jobs. They don’t call us the Blue Ball Squad because of the color of our uniforms. Lots of Newcitizens think the extra rank and privileges make up for rarely getting to come, and there are times when I agree. Tonight would not be one of them.

  He stared at me. “Listen. I really have to tell you something.”

  “Oh, God-of-choice! You’re not a reconditioned model, are you?” The pieces began to fit together. The upgrades on the hair and features, the enhanced package, the memory wipe. This guy must’ve been through the wringer. “You have done this before, right?”

  “Yeah, of course, but—”

  “Then get up on the bed and do it.” I was losing patience by now. “I don’t have all night.”

  He set his mouth in a thin, grim line. “You’re a real hardass, aren’t you? Always have to be in charge?”

  I’ve been insulted worse, plenty of times, but for some reason his words stung. I tried not to let it show in my eyes or my voice when I replied. R.I. Ops don’t have the luxury of emotion.

  “I am always in charge.”

  “Not this time, baby.”

  Now I was angry. “Watch your mouth, or I might just haul you to the shop.”

  Then he gave me that grin again, that damned cocky grin that shot fire between my thighs. I narrowed my eyes but couldn’t stop the twitch of my hips. He saw it too and grinned wider.

  He unbuttoned his shirt. “I’ll be ready in a minute.”

  “There’s no need for you to fully disrobe.” Damn, he looked fine. I concentrated on the series of images, which usually worked to keep me focused. A key, a star, a red ball. They weren’t working.

  The shirt came off to reveal smooth, tan skin. Perfect nipples, surrounded by crinkly hair. More hair furred his chest and ran in a straight, thick line down past his navel and met his thatch of dark pubic hair.

  His cock rose proudly from the dark nest. His erection hadn’t wilted at all. In fact, when I shifted on the bed to flash him some pink, it twitched in reaction.

  “I function better when I’m naked. Besides,” he pointed out, “you’re naked. Doesn’t seem fair.”

  “It’s not protocol.”

  He shrugged and stepped out of his drawers. “Too late now.”

  “You’re really testing my patience, Declan.”

  The bed dipped under his weight as he crawled up on it. “Sorry.”

  He wasn’t sorry. I could hear it in his tone of voice. But as his tongue found my clit, I found I didn’t really care.

  My job is to test these bots to see if their systems are still working all right. The problem is it can take a variety of stimuli to trigger that malfunction. Sometimes it can take hours before a bot reaches that point. For the first time since my rookie days, I wasn’t sure I could last long enough.

  He didn’t immediately drill me with his tongue. Instead, he began with a series of soft kisses that tickled my thighs and made me squirm. His hands found my hips and held me still. I let him. His comments about my having to always be in charge still echoed in my head, interfering with the sensation of his mouth on my clitoris. I forced them away and concentrated on his technique.

  Declan licked me slowly. Gently, but with enough force behind his mouth to make me wiggle. I felt every breath, every caress. His hands left my hips to stroke my thighs and calves, to wander across my belly. He was good. He was top of the line, no doubt about it. Too soon to tell if he had the faulty ignition, but I had all the time in the world.

  “Put your finger inside me,” I whispered, and he complied.

  I was so wet already. His tongue danced on my swollen clitoris and urged me toward orgasm. I spread my legs wider to give him more access and gave myself up to the sensation.

  He slipped another finger inside me while he suckled gently on my lips and clit. I slid my hands up to my breasts to tug on my nipples. They were iron hard and swollen, just aching for his mouth on them. I had to switch or I’d go over the edge.

  “Come up here.” He didn’t move, instead continuing to focus his attention on my crotch. I tapped his head until he looked up. “C’mon. Up.”

  He slid up the bed toward me, angling for my mouth again. I held up my hand. “No kissing. Didn’t you learn anything?”

  He didn’t look chastised. “Sorry.”

  I got up on one elbow to look him in the eyes. “You’re not a very good bot, are you?”

  He gave me that naughty grin. “Nope.”

  I shook my head, but a grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. Despite his poor attitude, I was beginning to like Declan.

  “Lick my breasts.”

  He bent his head. “If you insist.”

  I was beginning to think I’d been wrong. Declan might not have had his license up to date, but he didn’t seem to be malfunctioning in any way. I could just force him into coming and let it go at that. Get back to my rounds at the Lovehuts and listen to people whispering behind my back as I passed by. Somehow, that choice didn’t sound appealing. Not when I had a very handsome, very hard bot in bed with me.

  He mouthed my nipple and took the tiny bud of flesh tenderly between his lips. I relaxed against the pillows, letting him do what he wanted. Passion Models are good about taking the initiative. You might pay more for the privilege, but if you’ve ever been with a FCK 75 or the COK 187, you find it’s worth it. Despite Declan’s accusation that I always like to be in control, I find telling my sexual partner how to perform, step-by-step, unfulfilling and tiresome.

  He traced the faint flush blooming on my chest and the swell of my breasts. “You’re beautiful.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

  He shook his head and bent back to my nipples, sucking on first one and then the other, alternating in perfect rhythm. Without my having to ask, he slipped one hand down between my legs.

  He had no trouble finding my erect clit. “You’re so wet.”

  “That means you’re doing your job.”

  He stroked me lightly and smiled when I twitched beneath his touch. “And you’re just doing yours.”

  “Someone—” I paused to take a deep breath against the sensations sweeping through me, “—has to keep society safe.”

  He rolled on top of me and his cock nudged my entrance. “I assume I’m allowed to fuck you now?”

  “Show me what you’ve got.”

  He slid that thick length inside me and waited a moment, eyes closed, before moving. His weight on me was not unpleasant. Nothing about being with him was unpleasant, actually. I was enjoying this encounter far more than I usually did. I lifted my hips, urging him on.

  “I can’t tell if your ignition is faulty if you don’t perform.”

  He opened his eyes. “My ignition isn’t faulty.”

  I didn’t bother to reply. They never admit to malfunction. I put my hands on his hips, liking the smooth feeling of his skin, then curved my fingers around the furry mound of his buttocks. I stroked his ass as he pumped slowly in and out of me. With every thrust my engorged clit rubbed against his pubic bone. We fit together perfectly, seamlessly.

  He bent his head to nip at my throat, and I let his kisses slide. As long as he didn’t try and put his lips on mine, I could ignore protocol and procedure, especially since he was so skilled in everything else.

  “Are you all like this?” he asked in a whisper against my ear. “Or just you?”

  I couldn’t figure out why he insisted on talking. I didn’t answer. I could tell by the way he was speeding up his thrusts that he was close to coming, and I was right there alon