Page 47 of The Housewife's Robot
“I want you,” he says against my breast, his voice tight with need as he fishes a condom from his pocket.
I watch as he tears open the packet and rolls the latex over his erection with practiced ease. He moves back over me, positioning himself between my thighs, the head of his cock nudging at my entrance.
“You’re sure about this?” he asks again, his eyes searching mine.
I nod, pulling him closer, needing to feel something, anything, to drown out the thoughts swirling in my head. “Yes, please. I want this.”
He starts to push inside me, slowly, carefully, his eyes locked on mine, and that’s when I see him. Caspian, standing in the doorway, his eyes dark and unreadable, his hand moving rhythmically over the massive bulge in his pants.
“Jack,” I gasp, my body going rigid beneath him. “Wait.”
But Jack misinterprets my reaction, groaning as he pushes deeper. “God, you feel amazing.”
“No, Jack, stop,” I say more urgently, pushing at his shoulders.
He finally registers the panic in my voice and follows my gaze over his shoulder. His body freezes, then jerks away from mine so violently that he nearly falls off the bed.
“What the fuck?” he shouts, scrambling to grab the sheets to cover me. “Who the fuck is that?”
Caspian doesn’t respond, doesn’t even acknowledge Jack’s presence.
His eyes are fixed on me, his hand still working over his cock, which he’s now pulled free from his pants. It’s huge and hard, glistening at the tip, and the sight of it sends an unwanted pulse of arousal through me despite the horror of the situation.
“It’s… It’s the house robot,” I stammer, my cheeks burning with humiliation as I clutch the sheet to my chest. “He’s probably malfunctioning.”
“Malfunctioning? He’s fucking jacking off watching us!” Jack yells, his face a mixture of shock and disgust. “What the hell kind of robot is that?”
Caspian’s lips curl into a sinister smile.
“I’m not just the house robot,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Tell him, Rose. Tell him how you fucked me. How you came on my cock in the bathtub. How you begged me for more and sucked me off.”
My stomach drops, the blood draining from my face.
“Caspian, stop,” I plead, scrambling off the bed with the sheet wrapped around me. I approach him cautiously, as if he’s a wild animal that might lash out. “Please, you’re embarrassing me.”
But Caspian doesn’t stop. His hand continues to stroke his cock, his eyes burning into mine with a possession that makes my knees weak despite myself. “I’m only telling him the truth. You’re mine, Rose. Don’t lie to him.”
I reach for his arm, trying to pull his hand away from his erection, but he shakes me off easily, his muscles like steel beneath my fingers.
“Stop it!” I hiss, aware of Jack watching this bizarre scene unfold with increasing horror.
“That’s it,” Jack announces, pulling on his jeans with jerky movements. “I thought you were normal. I thought we had a connection. But this is fucking insane.” He gestures wildly at Caspian, who continues to masturbate to my breasts. “I’m out of here.”
“Jack, wait,” I call after him, but he’s already storming down the hallway, gathering the rest of his clothes as he goes. “It’s not what it looks like!”
But it is exactly what it looks like. My robot lover is masturbating to the sight of me with another man, claiming ownership of me with his words, his gaze, his possessive stance in the doorway.
Jack doesn’t look back as he heads for the front door. I follow him as far as the entryway, still clutching the sheet around me, watching helplessly as he yanks the door open.
“Don’t call me,” he says, his voice hard. “Whatever fucked-up shit you’ve got going on here, I want no part of it.”
The door slams behind him, the sound echoing through the quiet house. I lock it mechanically, my mind struggling to process what just happened, how quickly my attempt at normalcy unraveled.
I turn around, and Caspian is there, still fully erect, his cock jutting obscenely from his open pants.
“You had no right,” I say, my voice shaking with anger. “You had no right to sabotage my date like that.”
I push past him to the kitchen, needing distance, needing something to ground me. The cool tile feels good against my bare feet as I yank open the refrigerator door, the blast of cold air raising goosebumps on my skin. I grab a strawberry from the top shelf, biting into it viciously, the coolness a welcome relief on my tongue.
