MissionMenage

Mission Menage

Cynthia Sax

Captain Raylee lives a safe, controlled life. She ships
cargo using only heavily protected Federation routes, she doesn’t form
relationships with anyone or anything living, and her lover is a sexy android
with spare parts and a backup brain—and he’s
always
hard on command.

But Raylee’s perfect android lover has a dangerous human
twin…

Vegas, a Federation operative, thrives on risk and intrigue.
Years ago, he planted a robotic clone of himself on his future mate’s ship.
With a war now brewing between the Federation and enemy forces, Vegas boards
Captain Raylee’s vessel, determined to seduce both his woman and his android
while completing his daring mission.

In the darkness of space, lines blur between man and
android, safety and risk, lust and betrayal. One failed mission could destroy
them all.

Chapter One

“We can’t get lost again, Ship.” Raylee leaned back in her
captain’s chair and gazed at the stars strewn haphazardly across the black
blanket of space. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“
We’ve
never been lost.” Ship’s disembodied voice was
curt. “I, unlike my nonessential crew member, always know where I am. I am a
class-A freighter—”

“And I’m the nonessential crew member. I get it.” Raylee
tapped her controls and the route map zigzagged across the viewscreen. “You
claim you know where we are, but do you know where we’re going, Mr.
Fitzgerald?” She held her communicator up to the termination point. The
coordinates matched those on the work order.

“I don’t respond to that name.” Ship blew air through his
vents. “I am Ship. You are Captain. We are not friends.”

“Ahhh…” Raylee nodded her head. “So you
don’t
know
where we’re going.” She grinned. “I suspected as much. Let me help—”

“Our destination is Ungaria, a small planet at the edge of
the Alexia system,” the spacecraft broke into her teasing. “And in the eight
years, five days, twenty-seven minutes and eleven seconds since you’ve taken my
helm, we’ve docked there eighty-eight times, completing sixty-nine deliveries
and fifty-two pickups.”

“Eight years?” Raylee’s smile faded. She stared at the empty
seats around her, the bridge achingly deserted and heartwrenchingly quiet. “Has
it been that long?” A tightness crept across her shoulders.

“It has been eight years, five days, twenty-nine minutes and
nine seconds. On July 13, 3015, at two a.m., the pirates attacked—”

“I know what happened on July 13, Ship. I don’t need a
recap.” Raylee gazed up at the newly painted beams and she breathed in deeply.
The air was tinged with chemical fumes, but she smelled the metallic scent of
freshly spilled blood.

“I can’t stay here.” She leapt to her feet. “I’ll be in my
cabin.” Raylee strode by the unmanned communications panel, drifting her
fingertips over the empty seat.
Eight years.
Clara would have earned
enough credits for that dream home of hers by now.
Cheerful chatty Clara.
“If we get attacked by pirates…”

“The odds of being attacked by pirates while navigating a
Federation-sanctioned shipping lane is zero-point-zero-zero-zero-zero-five
percent.” Ship blasted her captain’s chair with cleaning agents, erasing all
indications of Raylee having sat there. “And your change of location is not
recommended. I’m sensing your cabin is occupied by…an
Elephas maximus
.”

“I have an elephant in my room?” Raylee pivoted on her
practical heels, the excess fabric of her flight suit billowing out around her.
“Visual please, Ship.”

A view of her cabin was laid upon the backdrop of stars.
Sexy grinned into the camera. His ruggedly handsome face was lit with laughter
and there were lines etched around his mouth and his stunning blue eyes.

“I should have never installed his humor chip.” Raylee
groaned. “There’s no elephant, Ship. That’s Sexy playing a joke on you.”

“Harrumph.” Ship’s circuits sizzled. “I too can play jokes.”
Electricity arced through the air, leaving a trail of light, and Sexy
convulsed, his big body shaking. “Oh, how funny the useless android looks.”

“Don’t break him.” Raylee hurried down the corridor, doors
sliding open and shut around her. “I don’t have time for repairs.” She passed
large, empty cabins she never entered and a dining space she seldom used.

“The android is a nonessential service.” Ship’s voice
followed her.

“He is essential to me and the client might ask about him
tomorrow. It
was
a very memorable thank-you gift.” Raylee entered her
smaller sleeping chamber, the monochrome sterile space dominated by a huge bed,
the headboard gleaming black, and the linens a rich silver. “Hey there, Sexy,”
she called out.

“Good evening, Captain.” Sexy greeted her with a wide smile
and a sharp salute. His dark hair smoked slightly around his black cap and his
artificial skin twitched. “You look…how do I say it?”

One…two…three…
Raylee extended her arm and her hand
hung in the air.
Shit. Five…
Her android clasped her fingers and bent
his head, his gaze upon her face, his mouth hovering above her knuckles.

One…two…
“Like a vision,” she murmured, her voice
layering perfectly over his.

“Thank you, Sexy.” As she pulled her hand away, his lips
brushed against her fingertips and she cringed. “You look…”

Raylee leisurely perused her android’s fit physique. A white
shirt stretched across his wide shoulders and black admiral stripes decorated
his sleeves. Tight black pants clung to his hips, pulling snugly across his
groin, accentuating the large bulge displayed there.

“You look like everything I should want and more than I
deserve.” She slumped down on the edge of the bed and stared at her palms,
seeing in the creases the black grime of a breached cargo bay she hadn’t
repaired in time. “Yet…”

“You had a tough day, affirmative?” The mattress dipped as
the android sat behind her. He placed his large hands on her shoulders, his
warmth permeating the coarse fabric of her flight suit. “Dealing with that
insubordinate Crewman Ship.” The lights flickered. “Let Admiral Sexy massage
all your troubles away.” He kneaded her muscles, loosening the tight knot
between her shoulders.

Raylee closed her eyes, the strain in her body dissipating
with his calculated touch. “Sexy, have you ever wanted to do something wild and
crazy, something not programmed, perhaps even risky?”

His hands stilled and silence stretched between them.

Tell me these feelings are wrong. Tell me I should be
grateful simply to be alive.

“Shhhh…no more talking, Captain,” Sexy purred, his simulated
breath wafting against her earlobe, fanning the embers of desire within her.
“Let me care for you.” He brushed her long hair over her shoulder and gently
pressed his lips against the nape of her neck.

“Oh, yes.” Raylee leaned into his hard body, pushing her
skin against his mouth, craving the skin-on-simulated-skin contact and needing
more. “Bite me, Sexy,” she urged. “Mark me with your perfect teeth. Give me the
pain I need, the pain I deserve. Make me forget.”

“Shhhh…no more talking, Captain.” Her android lover peppered
Raylee’s flesh with kisses in a controlled barrage of tenderness as he reached
around her torso to open her flight suit. “Mmm…so soft.” Sexy stroked the
shallow valley between her bare breasts, her nipples puckering under his
artificial touch.

“Too slow, you’re going too slow.” Raylee placed her hands
on his pant-covered thighs and she twisted the fabric, yanking the leg
fastenings open. “That’s how I want it tonight.” The cool air hit Sexy’s
temperature sensors and his cock jutted out hard and erect from his body.
This
time, it’ll be different.
A tremor of excitement rolled over her. “Rip off
my clothes and fuck me fiercely, Sexy. Flip me onto my back and ram that big
cock inside me again and again until I scream with pleasure.”

“Shhhh…no more talking, Captain.” Sexy carefully undressed
them both, removing her flight suit completely before tugging his shirt over
his head, the action tousling his dark hair, giving him a wild, untamed look
that sent Raylee’s blood pumping.

“Mmm…” He pulled her into his lap, his engorged cock nudging
between her ass cheeks, his chest warm against her back.

One…two…three…
“You feel so good.” She moved her lips
in time with his words. As her brain screamed for something different, her body
reacted to his touch, her pussy moistening and her desire escalating.

Sexy stroked down her torso slowly, meticulously. She
undulated against him, encouraging him as she would a real lover, and he slid
his palm over her cleanly shaven mound to dip his fingertips in her wetness.
“You are hot for me, affirmative?” As he fanned her folds with practiced
fingers, sweet sensations rippled through her.

“Yes.” Raylee wiggled, teasing his cock with her movements,
playing a game she’d never ever win. “Take me, Sexy. Take me rough and hard,”
she begged.

He paused. “Shhh…no more talking, Captain.” Sexy pushed one
large finger inside her pussy and her muscles clenched, holding on to him,
needing that physical contact.

He pumped her with first one, then two, then three fingers,
bending them slighting to fill her even more. She rocked forward into him,
riding his hand, brushing her clit against the synthetically calloused skin,
reaching for the wildness she desired, the spontaneity he wasn’t capable of.

This time, he’ll give me what I need.
She’d push him
over the edge and he’d lose all control, ramming into her and ravaging her
pussy mercilessly. She’d fight and protest and try to escape him, but he’d drag
her back and take her again and again, dominating her, possessing her, using
her until her pussy was raw and red.

“Sexy.” Raylee writhed.

“I need to fuck you.” The gruffness in Sexy’s voice drove
her fantasy. He rested his palms on her ass and pushed her onto her hands and
knees, preparing to take her from behind as an animal would, fucking her rough
and hard. His cock head brushed against her pussy and she quivered, her thighs
shaking.

This time.

He curled his fingers around her hips in the same exact
place as he always touched, pressing down with the same exact intensity as he
always pressed.
Oh God.
She squeezed her eyes closed, capturing her
tears of frustration.

One predictable fucking…two predictable fuckings…three
predictable fuckings…
She braced and he thrust into her, filling her
completely as he always did, his synthetic balls bouncing against her skin, his
grunt of effort for her enjoyment only.

“You are so tight, so beautiful,” Sexy told her as he fucked
her slowly and leisurely, a long continuous slide in and out of her pussy. A
warm glow of rising passion enveloped Raylee, banishing her disappointment. “I
adore you, Captain. You are an angel, a goddess.”

An angel…Clara…
“Harder, Sexy, harder,” Raylee urged.
“Fuck me so hard, I don’t remember.”

Sexy increased the intensity of his thrusts, slapping his
artificial skin against her ass, heating her flesh. The memories and the guilt
hung over her. She needed to be punished. She needed pain. “Pinch my clit.”

Sexy froze mid-thrust, and Raylee gritted her teeth.
Fuck.
She’d forgotten.

“Shhh…no more talking, Captain. Let me love you.” He
recommenced his forward drive, his momentum unhampered by the interruption.

She pushed back against his hips, taking him deeper,
escaping in the movement. “Rub my clit,” Raylee amended her command.

Sexy spread her pussy lips and Raylee jumped as he found her
clit, his rough skin brushing her sensitive flesh.
Better.
He rubbed in
a clockwise circular motion while his cock plunged in and out of her pussy.
Much
better.
She showed her appreciation with silence, swallowing her hot,
passion-filled words, allowing him to fuck interrupted.

He rode her in a constant, tireless rhythm, pistoning in and
out again and again, until Raylee panted and swayed underneath him, her mind,
her worries, her guilt lost in the carnal act, knowing nothing other than the
caress of skin against skin, the seductive slide of cock in pussy.

She teetered at the edge of climax, her arousal binding
unbearably tight around her. Tears of frustration flowed down her cheeks.

“Sexy,” Raylee pleaded, knowing he’d do nothing different,
realizing she was solely responsible for everything, including her own sexual
fulfillment. With a sob of acceptance, she bit down on her bottom lip, pinching
her flesh with her teeth, the pain pushing her over. “I’m coming!”

Sexy drove forward, compressed air from his android cock
pulsing into her.

“Fuck!” she screamed, bucking upward into him, the last
tension in her body zapped in a blazing all-encompassing orgasm.

“Shhh…I have you.” Sexy murmured the words she’d programmed
him to say and he rolled with her until she lay with her head on his chest, his
arms around her. His tanned skin shone with the sheen of her perspiration and
his body smelled of her pussy juices.

Raylee looked at the bedside clock.
12:03.
She
sighed.
Five minutes of fantasy left.

“Are you dissatisfied with me, Captain?” Sexy observed, his
voice cool and scientific.

“It isn’t you, Sexy,” she reassured him, stubbornly clinging
to the illusion that he cared about her, that anyone cared about her. “You’re
perfect.” She lifted her chin to study his stark profile. He appeared almost
human, with his square jaw and his crooked nose. Only his flat blue eyes
reflected the machine. “It’s me. I want something different, but I don’t know
what that something different is.”

“I comprehend your concerns, Captain.” Sexy caressed her
arms, his fingers in massage mode, vibrating slightly, comforting her. “My
model is equipped for this scenario.”

“Really?” Raylee gazed at him, but his blank expression
hadn’t changed. “What is your solution?” She frowned. “It has to be bigger than
having Federation night on Thursday rather than Friday.”

The android smiled slowly. “Part of the solution is not
sharing the solution, but you will be pleased, Captain. Your Sexy will please
you.” Sexy slipped from underneath her. She glanced at the clock again.
12:08.
Back to being alone.
He strode toward the bathroom to undergo the
sanitization process.

Raylee stared at Sexy’s back, his broad shoulders tapering
down to a taut, tight ass. She would be pleased.
How?
What was he
planning?

For the first time in years, she didn’t know. Smiling, she
pulled the silk cover over her naked body and closed her eyes to dream of a
rough, tough android with a firm hand and a mind of his own.