Page 22 of Skyn (After the End #3)

The Mannies

That thought, the desire to work alongside him forever, stays with me, makes me more afraid than I want to admit, even as my body pulls me into sleep.

I wake up to warmth, to the soft weight of something pressing between my legs, the slow drag of something wet and rough against my pussy. My panties are pushed to the side, and my breasts are pressed out of my tight bodice.

My eyes snap open.

The mannies.

I can tell it’s Hank who is between my legs, by the sheer size of him. Then I feel a shift near my side—a whisper-soft pull at my nipple, an almost-reverent caress of a wet tongue. Elton, the sensitive little artist, latching on and sucking harder.

I twitch, try to move, but my wrists are held high over my head. Crispin stands above me, head tilted, watching.

Something prickles at the edges of my mind.

Their tongues are everywhere, hot and wet dragging up the insides of my thighs, flicking over my nipples, plunging into my mouth like they own it.

Oh God, my mouth. There’s no finesse. No rhythm.

Just raw, hungry friction—sucking, lapping, devouring.

It’s messy. Desperate. Like a dog rutting against your leg, shameless and single-minded.

My body responds anyway, heat curling in my belly, a treacherous flush of sensation flooding through me.

I thrash, but whoever’s holding my legs tightens their grip—not cruel, but firm, keeping me in place. “Hank!” I hiss.

Hank is lapping at my pussy now with gusto. Every clumsy, greedy stroke feeding something dark and needy inside me. I think of them with the ice cream. Me asking Ben if he could taste it.

He can.

“Hank! Bad bot.”

I twist my head toward Ben. Ben will—

Ben is asleep. Sprawled on his back, eyes moving back and forth beneath his lids, fist-clenched, cock thick and high.

Crispin's fingers find my nipple and pinch—sharp.

White heat explodes behind my eyes.

My head tips back involuntarily, and he pushes his smooth anatomically incorrect crotch toward my mouth. Elton is slurping loudly on my other nipple now, and Hank is wetting his immense fingers. A moan slips from my lips as my vision goes starry.

Ben is doing this. He’s dreaming. The thought gets me slick with want. I buck my hips, and Hank takes that as his cue to nuzzle my clit. I let out a moan.

Crispin, standing over me, pulls my knee into my breast to give Hank easier access. When Hank sucks my clit, I start to push against him in earnest. My body is rocketing toward a sloppy, embarrassing orgasm.

If these bots had dicks, I am sure every hole I have would be stuffed and plundered.

“Ben, wake up!” I wrestle against them.

Ben shoots up like a springboard, all smooth muscle and sharp instinct, his body snapping into motion before his mind fully catches up.

The mannies power down and let me go.

His eyes are wide, wild—black pools of deep, burning heat. He surveys the room with the sharp, quick precision of a predator.

I can see the realization creeping over him like a slow, thick spill of ink. He takes in the mannies, the way they hover just out of reach, the way my chest rises and falls too quickly, the way my legs are still sprawled, still open from where the mannies were face down.

His jaw tightens.

“I didn’t power them down. Fawl, I’m so sorry. That was…” Ben looks down at his own hands, like he’s not sure if he’s awake yet, like he’s trying to piece together where he ends and the dream begins.

He grips the base of his cock through his thin slacks, and then his eyes flick back to me. “It was me.” His voice is wrecked, uneven. He stops himself, swallows, tries again. “Fawl, I want you. I want you so desperately—I—”

I cut him off because your girl knows how to ruin a party. “But Lily…”

“Lily is hard to remember without the dampeners. She is the logical choice, but my soul, my something”—he punches his chest—“wants you.”

I swallow hard.

He moves over to my side of the bed. “When I touch you, Fawl… When I touch you, my internal monitors light up like a drone display.”

“I felt you with the dampeners on; my God, I laughed,” he admits. “I felt you all the way in my bones, and I laughed. Day one.” He sounds amazed. “I should have known then that you would break through every defense I had.”

I’m not surprised at the heat that pulses through me.

His hand shoots out, catching mine, pulling me flush against him in one fluid motion. I collide with his chest, all hard muscle and fast breaths. The peaks of my nipples are still wet, and my pussy still throbs.

“I want only you,” he says.

His words set me ablaze, but before I can respond—before I can tell him he’s an idiot—his mouth crashes over mine.

The kiss is soft at first, like a question, but then, all at once, it’s hungry. Desperate. Reckless. His tongue pushes inside my mouth, his hands fisting my glittery gossamer top until I hear the delicate seams give way.

“You are my diamond,” he breathes against my mouth.

I pull back just enough to see his eyes I just about die every time he says it.

“Well,” I say, voice thick, giving in to him, “I’ve been called worse.”