Programmed To Please (The Tau Cetus Chronicles) (10 page)

What? Bursus had wanted to scan her but Carron had refused? Tau Cetus had more to thank the owner of Beautiful Dolls for than they’d thought. Still, Jai didn’t like the fact all this information was new to her. If Carron hadn’t been forthcoming about these important details, what else might he be hiding?

But now was not the time to think about that. Now was the time to take advantage of Marque’s talkative mood. “You overruled Bursus, Marque? Why?”

It was a safe question to ask, especially now that Marque was already on his third visit to the Beautiful Dolls boudoir.

“Remember what I just said about making up my mind about something?” He sighed. “A big part of the decision to come here was that I was stressed enough to take the chance that you wouldn’t try to kill me. Although – and I’ll admit this only now – when I was deep in the throes of pleasure, you probably could have stuck a knife between my ribs and I would have been helpless to defend myself. You’re that good, J. I would have died happy.”

Despite the outrageous sexual compliment, Jai heard what he was really saying.
What a terrible, lonely life he must lead.
Jai tilted her head back to look Marque in the eye. “You don’t trust anyone, do you?”

He shrugged. “I trust, but in degrees. I rarely trust completely, but Bursus and my assistant, Talesin, are on that list.”

Assure him he can trust you, Jai. Tell him you’re not his enemy.

But she most definitely was. She may not want to see him dead, like possibly some of his other enemies, but her plan was to coldly pump him for information and then pointedly betray him.

 She absolutely was his enemy. And for some absurd reason, she was loath to lie to him about it while here in his arms. So she tried another tack. “You can talk to me about whatever makes you stressed, Marque. I’ll listen.”

“Thank you, J. But work can wait. I’m interested in talking about something else right now.”

“What?”

Marque eased his arm out from underneath her, and propped himself on his side. Jai mourned the loss of his shoulder, but he was looking down at her so intently that she wondered what was on his mind.

“I have a theory…” he began. The tip of his index finger settled on her skin at the base of her neck, and then slowly slid its way down her chest, between her breasts, straight over her stomach and belly, and all the way down to her groin. “My theory is this,” he continued. “I believe the interesting little triangle of hair which you’ve said ‘points the way to pleasure,’ actually points to the spot that gives
you
pleasure. Or at least makes a robot react
as if
it’s pleasurable. It’s not for
me,
it’s for you, J.”

Jai’s eyes widened at that idea. Marque believed the Beautiful Dolls trademark pointed to her clit and not to the pleasure a man would get by fucking her? He was so totally wrong! 

“Well, I suppose in a sense, it
is
for me,” Marque amended absently. “An inside joke, perhaps. Another interesting detail of Anson Carron’s sexbots. You… react… just like a real woman would, so that I’ll feel more comfortable with you.”

Oh, dear. He wasn’t considering that he was so virile he could make even a machine feel?
So much for Jai’s trump card. But Marque was obviously all right with that. The bond between them had developed anyway.

“You think that—
ahh, Marque!”

His finger had slipped between her thighs and started stroking.

“See?” He smiled down at her, a glitter of triumph in his eyes. “I’m right.”

Damn straight he was right. He was teasing the most sensitive spot on
any
woman’s body. But a robot wouldn’t feel a thing there. Not even a top-of-the-line Beautiful Doll. No matter how anatomically correct she was.

 “You couldn’t be expected to know about this,” Marque excused her. “You’re just off the assembly line. Brand new to sex.” The tempo of his finger increased. “Let me show you how it works.”

“M-Marque,” she panted, breathless, her head arching back into the mattress. “If you make me feel any better than a moment ago, my circuits might overload!”

He threw his head back and laughed, but his finger never stopped moving. “I love your sense of humor, J. How the hell does Anson Carron do that with a machine? Your programming really is amazing. I can’t remember the last time I’ve smiled or laughed like this.”

“Please…
please
stop.” Jai was desperate now. His finger was too good. Wickedly good. Her hips bucked helplessly beneath his touch. “If you want to give me pleasure, I’d prefer to have you inside me, on top of me.”

His hand stilled. “Really?”

“Yes.”
The point of this week was to addict Marque Callex to sex, to sex with
her
, not to fall under the spell of his talented hands herself. She needed to stay in control.

He was on top of her in two seconds.

Jai was amazed that he was hard again so soon after the last orgasm, but he was. Hard and impatient. He watched her face intently as he eased himself slowly but determinedly inside her. Incredibly, she seemed ready for sex again, too. Her body welcomed his.

Why the hell was sex with Marque Callex unlike anything in her past experience? Her near-constant arousal must be due to Carron’s sex pill. Or maybe it was from Marque’s manual stimulation of her clit a moment ago. Or because she was simply still wet from coming a few minutes ago.
Please, please don’t let it be due to Marque himself…

He shifted his hips.

“Ahhh…”

Which one of them said that?

It didn’t matter. Marque propped himself on his elbows, laying his forearms alongside her upper arms, his fingertips cupping her shoulders lightly, as if he wanted to hold her – or hug her – while fucking her. It was sweet, actually.

“Damn, J, you’re so perfect.”

He moaned low in his throat, and began to move. In. Out. Slowly, letting himself feel the pleasure of it. After a moment, he levered himself up onto his hands for a better angle. Almost of their own accord, Jai’s fingers slid around his waist and ran lightly up and down his back, feeling his hot skin, encouraging him. 

He moaned again.
“Look at me.”

Marque’s voice was raspy as he captured her gaze with his. Either he wanted to watch how a robot climaxed in this position or he wanted to share his own with her. Whatever his intention, it was an incredibly intimate moment.

Her eyes locked onto his, rising to his challenge, willingly sharing everything she was feeling.
Her.
Jai Turner. Hell. In that moment, pretending to be a robot didn’t matter. Tau Cetus didn’t matter. Her case didn’t matter. Only Marque mattered. He drove into her, over and over, and she watched the pleasure build on his face. She tilted her hips to take him as deeply as she could, while her fingers sank into his buttocks to pull him even closer. She could sense the buildup of sensations in her body and hoped he could see them as plainly as she could see his. And when she gasped and tensed, her body ready to explode, he gave her one last, determined thrust and then let go of his own control. They climaxed together, watching each other in awed astonishment as it happened.

As the waves of pleasure rolled over her, Jai realized she had never felt anything so intimate in all her life.

This wasn’t sex. This was making love.

God help them both.

The soft tinkling of bells echoing from a corner of the room startled Jai. Still buried deep inside her, Marque turned his head toward the sound.

“What the hell is that?”

Jai blinked, trying to shake herself out of the languorous afterglow of post-coital bliss. “Your hour’s up, Marque. It’s time to go.”

#

She’d dismissed him. Just like that.

Time’s up. Gotta go. See you tomorrow.

In the back seat of his car, Marque was still fuming over J’s abrupt dismissal after the best sex of his entire life. How much of an idiot did he feel like? J was a sexbot, created for pleasure, a machine. She was able to stop, to turn herself off – so to speak – as soon as the bell rang. Whereas he was very definitely still turned
on
, basking in the amazing intimacy they’d shared as they’d watched each other climax. He felt as if they’d made love today, not simply had sex.

He growled and shoved a hand through his hair. Get a grip, man… Stop projecting human emotions onto her!

J was a robot. But oh, how he wished she was not! She was perfect in every other way. Ideal body, expert at sex, and a witty conversationalist to boot.

It just wasn’t fair.

Life’s not fair, you idiot. Just look at your own life. 

He blew out a rough breath and shifted on the plush leather seat.

If he looked at things analytically, it was actually
good
that J was a machine. Best case scenario, in fact. After he owned her, he could turn her off, stow her in a corner, and use her just when he needed sex or conversation. There’d be no messy relationship issues, like the kind he’d had with Syretha. And he wouldn’t have to constantly worry for J’s safety – the threat of his enemies getting to him by harming her. As he had to worry about constantly with his sister, Leora. The sister who hated him.

Yes. He and J were perfect for each other.

He simply had to learn to divorce his emotions from this equation. As he’d said at the beginning of this little venture, no one was going to addict Marque Callex to artificial sex.

He just hadn’t thought divorcing his emotions would be this difficult.

Marque looked up as Bursus turned the car into the underground parking structure beneath his office, and parked. The bodyguard hadn’t said a word during the entire ride back, even though this was the first time Marque had stayed at Beautiful Dolls for the full allotted hour.

Bursus knew why Marque went to Beautiful Dolls, knew what the place was for, but he was the consummate professional, never even asking Marque what it was like to fuck a sexbot. But Bursus was a man. Had he heard J’s amazing screams of pleasure when she’d been on top of Marque? Or his own shout of victory when he’d ridden them both to climax a few minutes later? Anson Carron had assured Marque that the boudoir rooms were soundproofed, but still, J’s screams had been piercing. He’d given her a powerful pleasure.

Well, at least a pleasure as powerful as a robot could experience.

Which had seemed pretty damned pleasurable, frankly.

The thought of it brought a smile to Marque’s face. And as Bursus opened the car door for him, Marque couldn’t hide that smile. Bursus’s face remained perfectly, professionally blank, but the sight of the bodyguard’s bland expression elicited a laugh from Marque – probably the first laugh from him that Bursus had ever heard in his ten years of service.

Marque couldn’t help it. He was happy. 

In silence, the two men rode Marque’s personal hydraulic lift to his office.  Stepping out of the doors, Marque was still smiling when he glanced toward his assistant Talesin’s desk, and noticed the expression on the man’s face. “What is it?”

Talesin threw a pointed look at Marque and jerked his head nervously toward Marque’s closed office door.
“Theus.”

    Marque’s stomach tightened, his satisfied, post-sex mood instantly evaporating.

Theus? The premier of the High Council? Here? Theus
never
came here. The true connection between Callex Industries and the High Council was a tightly-guarded secret.

This was not good.

Wiping the smile off his face, Marque strode toward his door, and entered his office without knocking.

Theus leaned deceptively casually against the far wall behind Marque’s desk, arms crossed over his chest, dressed in a black suit, his midnight hair combed straight back off his face. Not for the first time did Marque’s mind conjure an image of the devil.

So different from the vision he’d recently left, of J’s blond-haired, blue-eyed goodness.

Stop thinking about her! You have a bigger problem here.

Marque registered Theus’s position against the far wall.
Never keep your back to a door. It makes you vulnerable to whatever comes through that door.
Theus, of all people, knew that well. How many assassination attempts had he survived now? Three?

“You’ve kept me waiting for more than an hour, Marque,” the man in black said ominously. “I don’t like to wait.”

Ah, yes.
Immediately put your opponent on the defensive.
Not that Marque was Theus’s adversary. And it wasn’t even like they’d had an appointment. “Apologies. I had to leave the office.”

“You never leave the office.”

True. Marque was usually at Theus’s beck and call, but he was certainly not going to volunteer where he’d been today, so he kept his mouth shut. Theus pushed himself off the wall and began to slowly pace. Given the premier’s mood, Marque felt marginally safer with his desk between the two of them.

“We’re concerned, Marque,” Theus began, his voice unnervingly smooth. “The two wasp missiles you lost three months ago have turned up in Terra Radix, in the hands of Regulator Clemens Egidia, who has just used them to kill Regulator Florens Hericus. Edigia now controls all of Terra Domus. And you know how volatile that part of Tau Cetus is.”

 The knot in Marque’s stomach tightened. “Sir— ”

Theus held up a hand, cutting Marque off. “There are some in our organization who believe you’ve gone rogue, selling weapons with your own agenda.” There was a dangerous tone to the premier’s words.

 “You know that’s not true. I reported the missing wasps as soon as the production schedule turned up short.”

“But now the Council hears that two stingers may have gone missing.
What are we to make of that?”

Marque went cold. There were only ten men besides himself who knew that particular bit of information. The ten men who were at the production meeting yesterday. Which one of them was leaking information to the High Council?

The one who was stealing the weapons himself?