I WASN’T SURE WHAT WAS more disturbing: seeing myself flip out and destroy the newspaper’s property in a fit of panic, or knowing that Vair—and perhaps other Ks—had been invading my privacy and spying on me for all this time.
Definitely the latter, I decided—although the former was more mortifying in the moment.
I was speechless as I watched the hologram version of myself calm down enough to realize just what I had done and allow a new sense of horror to take hold.
“Imagine how it hurt my feelings,” Vair’s smooth baritone cut in as the hologram “me” proceeded to dash about, packing up my personal belongings as quickly as possible, “to see this—your violent reaction to my favorite compilation of our intimate moments together?”
He was messing with me again.
Or he was a psycho.
Leave it to me to have my first one-night stand with a Fatal Attraction vampire alien.
It should’ve been a tip-off when he’d told me on the dance floor that he’d come to Earth out of boredom. He’d said he required a lot of amusement, and that he had run out of ways to amuse himself on Krina. So he’d left his home planet to open a sex club in NYC centered around Ks sucking and fucking willing humans?
“You threw out the exotic fruit basket I sent you.” His voice held a note of censure.
And I’d viewed my ex-boyfriend’s lack of direction in life as a red flag of things to come.
He just had to be messing with me. I tried to tune him out and focus on the hologram version of myself shoving papers and mementos into emptied file boxes. My hologram was out of breath.
I was out of breath. I shut my eyes as my head began to spin.
“Amy?”
I shook my head, unwilling to open my eyes. I didn’t want to see him.
But then I heard him. Grunting.
Followed by the sound of a woman moaning.
And I knew without looking that it was another hologram version of me that was playing now. Of us. From our night at the club.
“… Oh, please, Vair. Right there … yesss …”
The sound of slick flesh slapping together filled the limo at high volume, along with the sound of my own whimpered pleas and cries for more.
Oh, God.
I let the bottle slip from my fingers.
“Amy?” Present-moment Vair’s calm entreaty was overlaid by the sounds of my unseen hologram self reaching orgasm.
I couldn’t breathe. I pressed my fingers to my temple.
“You’re so wet,” his hypnotic voice spoke from across the limo.
My inner muscles contracted, clenching around emptiness.
“So ready for me.”
Fuck. I was very wet.
I could feel his eyes on me; sense his essence calling to me—his sexual hunger a visceral thing that pulsed and tugged at my core as his need became my need—magnifying my own tenfold.
“I’ve thought about you.” His voice was low and hoarse. “Did you think about me?”
I’d thought about him nearly every moment of every day for the past nine weeks.
“Take your clothes off.”
I shook my head at his directive, even as I reached for the buttons of my blouse and began to undo them with trembling fingers.
“That’s it … such a beautiful, delicious little human,” he purred at me over the background sounds of my hologram’s moaning and soft sucking noises.
Recorded Vair was grunting louder now, and my sex throbbed in reply, aching with an intensifying need at his growled commands for me to suck him harder. Deeper.
My mouth watered. My fingers fumbled desperately, tugging at the stubborn buttons.
This was madness!
“Amy,” Vair called quietly to me again.
I opened my eyes at last.
The lighting had changed. The limo’s tinted windows had darkened to black, and a soft, flickering red glow similar to the lighting in his x-club illuminated the alien predator seated across from me.
Naked.
Stroking the biggest erection I’d ever seen.
And between us, the projected 3D recorded images of our naked bodies were 69ing like starved animals.
“Come here.” One hand fisted the base of his massive organ while he crooked the finger of his other at me. “Show me you’re not a victim.”
That strange sense of unreality that I’d experienced in his club came over me again, and I found myself on my knees between his muscled thighs a moment later, stretching my lips around his bulbous, wet tip and sucking him into my mouth—because attacking his cock with my tongue was apparently the way that my brain and body instinctively chose to demonstrate non-victimhood.
“Ahh—good girl,” he hissed, raising his hips up into my mouth while pressing down upon the back of my head, quickly filling me to the back of my throat, yet still barely fitting half of his thick length inside.
He pushed deeper. I gagged. He eased back, then shoved forward to the same point again. “That’s it, darling …”
My eyes watered as he took up a steady, insistent rhythm, rocking his hips up while restricting the position and motion of my head with his hand, fucking my mouth without ceremony or pretense. Each time driving into me as far as my gag reflex would allow while his other hand squeezed and stroked the length of him that I was unable to take.
“Yes … just like that …” his gruff voice coaxed as crude slurping noises began to escape me—the sounds becoming beyond my ability to control as he pumped faster, taking my mouth with a primal urgency that was oddly empowering.
His sharp, short intakes of breath and guttural grunts of satisfaction had me aroused to the point of near orgasm as I was swept up in the paradox of feeling so powerfully in control of delivering his most critical, basic need in the moment, while at the same time being dominated by the situation.
“Amy … Amy …” he groaned my name like a dirty prayer as his thrusts became erratic.
I was sure he was about to come.
I was on the brink of flying apart myself—even without any physical stimulation—it was all so fucking hot.
His blunt fingertips spread and dragged back and forth across the back of my scalp, sending delightful shivers through me before fisting the roots of my hair in a near-painful caveman grip.
Knowing he was about to blow in my mouth at any moment, I succumbed to temptation, slipping my hand between my thighs and up my pencil skirt—desperately seeking my own fulfillment.
The moment I pressed my fingertips to my soaked cotton underwear, I came undone.
I’d been hoping to get myself off discreetly while he was caught up in his release—ideally, without him even knowing it—as unrealistic as that may have been. But as soon as I began to detonate, he tugged me sharply up by my hair, pulling himself from my mouth and wrenching my head upright.
My eyes flew wide as my body twisted and convulsed, carnal sounds erupting from me that rivaled those being made by my recorded hologram playing in the background.
Caught red-handed, with my fingers pressed up my skirt rubbing in a frantic motion, my flushed face sloppy wet with drool and residual tears from gagging on his cock, I was helpless to halt the sheer force of my own orgasm as he absorbed every brutally raw detail.
I couldn’t have pulled my fingers away from my slit in that moment if I’d wanted to.
I didn’t want to.
The sly, slight smile on his lips was the only thing darker than his eyes as he watched me bare my wanton soul, his jaw tight, his fist locked in an unmoving death grip around the base of his massively engorged erection to prevent his own explosion.