by Claire Kent
“Not necessarily. I’ve just found that men who are ashamed of what they do with us will sometimes not treat us well. So just be careful.”
Talia sat down on a soft, rounded footstool, her shoulders drooping. “I will. But I don’t think he’s going to treat me bad. He doesn’t seem like that. He seems… gentle.”
Jenelle gave her a sudden, sharp look. “Don’t ever romanticize, Talia.”
“I’m not!”
“Aren’t you?”
“No. I… I like him, and I think he seems… not as hard as most of the men I meet. But I’m not romanticizing. I promise.”
Jenelle relaxed slightly, but her eyes were still observant. “All right. Just please be careful. If you find a partner you like, then that’s good. If you enjoy being with him, then that’s good too. But as soon as you start getting foolish dreams or impossible ideas about him, that’s when you’ll run into danger.”
“I know that. I’m not going to forget. I promise I’m not romanticizing. I really do think he’s new to this sort of thing. He’s never been with an escort before. He told me that sex is… is personal to him.”
“Talia, you’re not going to be personal to him, no matter what he says,” Jenelle said. “You’ll never be personal. Remember who you are to him.”
“I know. I know! I was just explaining why he might have wanted me to come to his room. Do you… do you think I shouldn’t go at all?”
“I’m not saying that. He’s a Combatant, so that’s a good thing. If you don’t have any negative vibes about him, then you’re probably fine. Just be careful. If a man feels bad or guilty about what he’s doing, then he’ll often take it out on you. If you get any sign of that at all, you get out of that room. If you can’t get out, then you sound the alarm. No donation is worth being hurt for.”
Talia nodded soberly, a shuddering beginning in her chest that she hadn’t felt in a long time, not since her first month working here.
It had never once occurred to her that she should worry about Desh, that he could hurt her, but she was starting to get nervous now.
What if she was wrong about him?
What if she’d been as foolish as Jenelle feared?
Jenelle seemed to recognize her change of mood because her expression softened. “I didn’t mean to bring you down, Talia. I just want you to be careful. Remember, men will always be men. They’ll never be who you want them to be.”
“I know,” Talia said with a little smile. “I’m not going to forget.”
***
Her excitement about her evening with Desh had transformed completely, and she felt chilled and shaky as she walked the long corridors of the Residence to the wing where Desh’s room was located.
She almost wished she hadn’t stopped by to talk to Jenelle first.
But it was better to be smart and subdued than to be foolish and happy.
Foolish happiness would only get her hurt.
She stood for a minute in front of his door, breathing deeply and trying to still her trembling hands. Then she buzzed, and he opened the door after just a moment.
He was dressed in his normal light trousers and top, and he wasn’t wearing shoes or a mask.
He had dark bristles on his jaw from a day’s worth of beard, and his face looked young, very attractive.
She sucked in a breath.
“Hi,” he said with a little smile, dropping his eyes and then lifting them again.
“Hi.” She clenched her hands when they started shaking again.
Surely he wouldn’t transform into someone else.
Surely he wouldn’t hurt her.
He looked quiet. And a little uncertain.
“Come on in.” He stepped aside to let her in.
His room was like most of the regular guest chambers in the Residence, clean and comfortable and decorated in a sleek, minimalistic style.
“Do you want something to drink?” Desh asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot very subtly. “Some fake wine?” He gestured at the replicator in the wall.
“Are you having anything?”
He shook his head. “I’ve spent too many years only eating and drinking real food. I can barely even swallow down replicated stuff now.”
He’d been on Mel Tana for years, she remembered. No replicators were even allowed on that planet.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asked again.
She shook her head mutely. She didn’t want to drink anything if he wasn’t. When she was with a man in the evenings, she had a few practiced routines she used to move into sex. But none of them felt appropriate right now, and she was still shaky and trying to hide it.
The only seats in the room were a couple of metal chairs, so she went to sit down on the edge of the bed, crossing her arms in front of her stomach in an attempt to stop her trembling.
Desh came to sit down beside her.
Someone needed to say something, so she said, “They do have real wine in the Residence.”
“I know. But I haven’t had real alcohol in so long that it would completely knock me out. I’ve got to fight tomorrow.”
She nodded, staring down at the floor, trying not to imagine the sweet man beside her turning into some sort of monster during sex. He was strong. Really strong.
He could hurt her if he wanted to.
She took a slightly shaky breath. “What do you drink then, if you don’t drink wine or replicated stuff?”
“Water. Or milk. Although the milk here is so processed I—” He cut himself off.
She turned her head to check his expression. “What?”
He slanted her a rueful smile before he glanced away again. “I just realized I sound like I’m complaining about everything.”
“No, you don’t. I’ve never heard of anyone who stayed on Mel Tana for so long. It must be strange to come back to the real world.”
He gave a strange, soft huff. “The real world. Yeah.”
He sounded almost bitter, and she didn’t know why.
She tightened her arms around her belly and searched her mind for something to say, something to do, some way to stop shaking.
“Talia?”
She was staring at the floor. It felt safer that way. “Yes?”
“Why are you scared?”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are. Are you scared of… of me?”
She was blowing this. She was ruining it. What should have been a great thing for her was turning into a complete mess. She straightened her shoulders and tried to smile. “Of course not.”
Desh reached over and took both her hands. His were big and warm and very strong. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m…”
“You’re scared.”
She let out a breath and met his eyes, so trapped there was nothing she could say. “I’m sorry.”
His eyebrows had drawn together. “Don’t be sorry. Just tell me why you’re scared.”
“I talked to my… my friend before I came here. She said that sometimes men will want to stay in their rooms if they’re… they’re ashamed of what they’re doing. And that sometimes that shame will lead them to… hurt us.”
She shouldn’t have told him that. It was exactly the wrong thing to say.
If he were what Jenelle had feared he was, it would only make him angry.
But maybe it was better to find out now.
Desh’s face twisted. “You think I’m going to hurt you?”
“No. No.” She looked down to the floor again. “I don’t know.” She swallowed hard and pulled her hands out of his grip. “I thought I was getting better at this, but I guess I still don’t know what I’m doing.”
Desh was quiet for a long time. Then he murmured, “I don’t know either.”
He meant it.
He was as uncertain as she was.
It was the best thing he could have said to her. It immediately relieved her trembling nerves.
He was exactly who she’d thought he was. She
hadn’t been wrong about him.
No matter their respective positions, she had as much power in this room as he did.
She turned her head and slanted him a little smile. “Not very sexy, am I?”
His eyes widened as the rest of his expression relaxed. “You didn’t just say that, did you?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her heart started to hammer again but not with nerves this time. “Even now?”
He reached out to brush his fingers along her cheek and then down the line of her neck. “Especially now.”
The light touch felt so good she sucked in a breath. “You still want to do this?”
“Do you?”
She nodded.
“Then I do too.”
She stood up, untied her tunic, and let it slip off her shoulders.
The response in Desh’s face and body was immediate, dramatic. His eyes went hot. His body went tight. He stared up at her speechlessly.
Then he reached to pull her down so she was sitting beside him again. He cupped one of her breasts the way he had before, his touch so light it was almost delicate.
She liked the faint flush on his cheeks, the way his breathing had sped up, the way his hand shook just slightly. It was proof that he was really liking how she looked, how she felt.
It made her feel special, and she wasn’t used to feeling that way.
She hadn’t been wrong about him.
At all.
This was a good decision.
“How do you want to do this?” he asked in a thick voice.
“We can do anything you want.”
At the moment, he seemed to want to touch her. He took her breasts in both hands and twirled her nipples until she couldn’t help but let out a soft, lingering moan.
“Do you like how that feels?” he asked, trailing his hands down to her waist and then her hips.
“Yes,” she whispered.
When his hands went back up to her breasts, she arched her back, trembling again but not from fear now.
Her pussy was already pulsing with arousal. She had no idea how it was even happening.
Remembering that she was supposed to be making him feel good, she said, “I can touch you if you want.”
“I want to touch you first. Can you lie down for me?”
She could hardly argue with him, but she was feeling more and more out of control. She adjusted her position so she was stretched out on the bed on her back, and he’d moved over her, his eyes raking hungrily over her body, which was naked except for her boots.
She gasped when he let his fingertips trail from her breasts to her thighs. Then she gasped again when he teased one of her nipples with his thumb.
She tried to catch her breath.
She shifted her hips restlessly.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Can I…?” He didn’t finish his question.
“You can do anything you want,” she told him in a breathless whisper.
He leaned over and took one of her breasts in his mouth.
She made a little whimper and arched up at the jolt of pleasure.
“Are you okay?” he asked, lifting his head to look at her face.
“Yes.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m not used to feeling this way,” she admitted, clenching her fingers into the soft coverlet.
“What way?”
“Good.”
His expression changed as he processed her words. A different kind of heat flared from his blue eyes.
He leaned back down to suckle her nipple until she was squirming helplessly.
Then he straightened up and slid one hand down between her legs. Before he touched her pussy, he asked, “Can I?”
She nodded, completely incapable of speech at the moment.
His fingers explored just as gently as he’d touched her everywhere else. Almost hesitant. When he slid one finger inside her, she clenched around it eagerly.
His lips parted slightly, his cheeks more flushed than before. “You’re so wet.”
She was wet. She’d never been so aroused in her life, and she was almost embarrassed by it, like it wasn’t a professional way to behave.
There was no way she could help it though.
Her body desperately wanted what he was doing to her.
“Do you… do you like this?” he asked, moving his eyes from her pussy to her face.
She nodded and fisted her hands in the coverlet.
He pumped his finger a few times, and she bent up her knees.
“Can you…” She bit down on her lower lip as the pleasure intensified. “Can you use two fingers?”
He adjusted his hand so he was penetrating her with two fingers, and he slid them in and out of her, creating delicious friction.
She wasn’t supposed to be doing this.
She wasn’t supposed to be letting him please her.
She was supposed to be pleasing him.
But she was too far gone now to make things right. She clutched at the bedding and rocked her hips against his fingers, tossing her head helplessly as the pleasure built up inside her.
“Faster,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut and holding on for dear life. “Please!”
He accelerated his rhythm so he was fucking her hard with his hand, and the pressure at her center shattered into waves of sensation.
She bit her lip hard to stifle her cry of pleasure as she shook and shuddered.
Her whole body was hot and relaxed when he pulled his fingers out of her tight, wet pussy.
She was even wetter now than before. She’d soaked his hand.
Panting and still clutching at the coverlet, she couldn’t even move for a minute. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Desh was still staring at her with that hot intensity.
“Why did you do that?” she managed to ask, feeling embarrassed and self-conscious by the way she’d lost control.
“Because you said I could do anything I wanted.”
It was a strange sort of answer, but it told her something about him. Proved yet again that she hadn’t been wrong in her first impressions of him.
Wanting to show that she appreciated what he’d done, she sat up and moved onto her knees, easing him down so he was lounging against the pillows. “Can I do something for you now?” she asked with a little smile.
His whole body clenched visibly. “Yes. Please.”
She slowly took off his clothes, very pleased by the sight of his firm body beneath them—all long limbs and lean, well-defined muscles. He was utterly silent as she caressed his shoulders, his arms, his chest, his legs. His cock had been fully erect from the time she took off his trousers, and it was resting up against his belly, waiting for her to touch it.
She finally did, causing Desh to jerk slightly and suck in a loud breath.
Her heart was racing as she lowered her mouth, and he groaned long and low as she teased him with her tongue, twirling the head, licking a line down his shaft.
He bucked his hips up jerkily when she took him fully in her mouth, his hands moving restlessly over the coverlet, as if he didn’t know what to do with them.
“Fuck,” he gasped when she started to suck. His upper body arched up off the bed. “Oh, fuck! I can’t… I can’t…”
She was strangely thrilled by his naked pleasure, his complete lack of control. She applied rhythmic suction and moved a hand under her head so she could gently massage his balls.
He arched up again, fumbling for purchase on the bed. He was making helpless little thrusts into her mouth, and she realized he was already about to come.
After a few more sucks and squeezes, he did come, letting out a loud groan that lasted for a long time. His cock shuddered in her mouth, and his body rode out the spasms until he was limp and panting and relaxed.
She swallowed down his release and let him slip out of her mouth as she straightened up. She was smiling like an idiot
as she saw his sated expression and the flush all the way down his neck.
She stroked his chest gently until he’d recovered enough to meet her eyes.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” he muttered.
She frowned. “Why?”
“I lasted about two seconds.”
She giggled as she massaged his shoulders. “You lasted longer than that. And what does it matter?”
“I thought we might do something else,” he said, slightly sheepish.
She couldn’t seem to stop smiling, and she didn’t even know why. “We can. I imagine it won’t be long until you’re up for more.”
He was smiling too as he pulled her down to lie beside him. She wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted, but she fit herself at his side and used one hand to stroke his chest.
She kind of liked that he wasn’t completely hairless. It was unusual, and she couldn’t help but play with the hair on his chest.
He had one of his arms around her, but it was only holding her loosely. His body was still warm and soft from his release.
“Do you like doing that?” he asked after a few minutes.
She was surprised by the question and raised her head to see his face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, do you like doing that?”
She blinked, unsure of how to answer.
“You can tell me the truth,” he said quietly, his eyes sober on her face. “I’d rather you not make up pretty lies to please me.”
“I wasn’t going to lie,” she told him. “I was just… thinking it through. Sometimes I don’t like it. Sometimes it feels… uncomfortable. But most of the times I’m focusing on how to do a good job.” She paused. “I like to do good at my job, the same as anyone else.”
He nodded, as if he understood. “You did a really good job with me.”
She gave him a trembly little smile. “I liked it,” she admitted. “With you. I don’t know why, but I did.”
“You don’t have to tell me that, if it’s not true.”
“It is.” She lay back down, embarrassed by the admission and not sure why she was making it. “It is true.”
He stroked her hair and didn’t say anything.
She continued to caress his chest, occasionally trailing her hand down to his tight belly. After a few minutes, she noticed that his cock was starting to harden again.
He was a lot younger than most of the men she’d been with.