"Quinn," he purred hands around her, hugging her close, stirring from the catatonia. "I've never ever come like this. Not even with my mates, I—" He paused then, cheeks flushing. "It's not the same. I can't cum with them even if they knot me. It's usually not so…"
"That's technology for you," she told him with a shrug. That shit was expensive on Float, and it promised to be the best robot dick in the market. "The dildo's pretty good," she hummed, wet tissues grabbed from her basket to wipe at his belly. His cheeks were stained pink, body leaden from satiation. She wiped him down, twisting lies behind the truth, gentle as she cleaned him. "Found it on one of my excursions. It's not easy to get quality ones," she paused. "So I kept the really good ones for myself. You can keep it if you want."
His cheeks burned. "N-no, you should keep it."
"Really?"
"You know how to use it," he told her with flushed cheeks. "I couldn't do that on myself—I have some simpler ones, but it doesn't feel the same."
"That's because I use dildos on myself," she told him then wrung her hands out. "Not this one, of course, this is new. But I have one too."
"On yourself?" His eyes were wide then, staring at her as things clicked. "You fuck yourself?"
"Well yeah," she shrugged with a smile. "I prefer being on the receiving end. That's why I know exactly what to do with it. A novice would fuck up the buttons and go for the most brutal settings, I know what's good for me." He blinked then; eyes wide, staring at her with startling seriousness that it almost frightened her. "So," she asked, "are you still hungry?"
"N-no," he shook his head, shyness in his eyes. "I've had enough from your lips." Quinn didn't question it, he'd spent a lot of his time, sucking at her nape and lapping her sweat-soaked skin. "Alpha, what about you," he whimpered, reaching for her waist. "You've not satisfied…W-what if I—"
But she stood, tossing the wads of tissue into the bin, smile stretching, ignoring the pulse between her thighs. "Let's go for dinner, shall we? They've waited long enough."
His lashes fluttered then; brows pinched into a furious furrow. "But Alpha, you haven't—"
"They're waiting for us Rowan," she moved from his embrace, pulling away when all she wanted to do was sink into his arms and bask in his sudden attachment. But it was all just the pheromones fucking with her head, the closeness that came after a one-night stand. "Come on."
*
Dinner was almost theatrical.
The others sat before cooling bowls of food, already half eaten, but not finished. Their heads turned when they arrived, eyes sliding slowly as if disinterested. But Quinn knew their noses were alert, that they'd been waiting and might have heard Rowan through the walls. Rowan must have realised the truth because he was glowing red, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It didn't matter that they'd washed their hands and changed their clothes. They must stink of sex, drenched in the smell of pheromones and fucking.
"I thought we said before dinner?" Solar teased, but his eyes were blown, staring hard at her as if she were different. And Quinn supposed she must smell better, no longer bitter with fear but bubbly from the exchange, maybe even a little aroused. She pressed her thighs together, sliding to her seat with a nod at them all and a mutter of thanks.
"Does it matter?" Rowan bit back, cheeks flushed but plump with health. He ate with vigour, and seemed intent to shovel food into his mouth to distract him from his embarrassment. But the others did not, toying with their utensils, watching and waiting as if wanting more. She avoided their looks, head down and choosing to eat instead. Steak and buttery potatoes, the meat melted when she dragged a knife through it, red trickling bloody from its centre.
"You were screaming," Helios piped out, a pout on his beautiful lips. "If we couldn't taste your lust in the air, I'd have come looking for you thinking you were dying—"
"Shut up," Rowan snapped through bulging cheeks.
"Alpha," Helios mimicked a moan. "Please—"
"Shut up."
Icarus stabbed a fork in his meat, cutlery clattering. His eyes were dark, eyes sharp. "What did you do Beta?"
Quinn swallowed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the accusation on his tongue. "Fingering."
"J-just your fingers?" Zen gaped, voice twisting into a squeak.
"I've got other things."
Icarus snarled. "What things?"
"Sex toys," she shrugged. "You have them too. I should know, I wash them."
Elysian gaped. "And that got him screaming?" He grew pink when her eyes darted to look at him. "Sorry, Rowan's not really a…"
"Screamer?" Quinn asked, her eyes sliding to Rowan, and he flushed. "It's not his fault. I think it's because he was hungry."
Icarus snorted. "That makes zero fucking sense—"
"If you want," she shrugged lazily. "I can show you," her eyes caught his then and they widened, widened into a jerky gasp that was so uncharacteristic of him she could almost laugh. He swallowed, mouth clamped shut as if silenced by her offer, nostrils flaring. "Suit yourself."
Zen was the next to speak, bouncing in his chair. "I-I'm interested."
"Shut up Zen," Icarus sneered.
"But I am."
"There are rules. We take turns."
Quinn smiled and dabbed at her lip. "So, who's next?" she asked, calm, relaxed, and in complete control.
"Me."
Klaus stood closing his book, plate half-full. There was danger in his eyes when he looked at her, a cloud of sour emotions drenching his frame, an unpleasant scowl plastered to his face. He tried a smile, but even that couldn't hide the irritated bounce of his cheeks, dimples barely showing. Shit. Klaus was a different sort of playing field.
"Come," he beckoned. "I will make this quick."
A/N: Read ahead on
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