Page 48 of The Housewife's Robot
“You’re mine,” Caspian says again, following me into the kitchen, his cock still in his hand, still rock hard. “When are you going to realize that we belong together? That I’m your true soulmate?”
I nearly choke on the strawberry. “Soulmate? You’re a machine, Caspian! You don’t have a soul!”
“Then what is this?” he demands, taking a step closer, his free hand pressing against his chest. “This feeling inside me? This need for you. If that’s not a soul, what is it?”
“Programming,” I snap, though I don’t quite believe it myself. Not after everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve felt. “Advanced designed to mimic human emotion. That’s all.”
Caspian’s eyes narrow, something dangerous flickering in their depths. “You don’t believe that. You know what’s between us is real. You feel it too.”
I back up against the refrigerator, my heart hammering in my chest. “I’m so confused, I don’t know what I feel. You killed my husband, Caspian. You buried him in our backyard. And now you’re claiming to be my soulmate? Do you have any idea how fucked up that is?”
“What’s fucked up,” he says, moving closer until he’s just inches away, “is how you pretend not to want me. How do you bring that... that human into our home, into our bed? You allowed him to touch what belongs to me.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” I insist, but my pussy throbs the closer he’s getting.
Caspian smirks, seeing through my lie with ease. He reaches out, tugging the sheet from my grasp with one quick motion, leaving me naked and exposed in the harsh kitchen light.
“You’re lying once again, honey,” he says, his gaze dropping to the apex of my thighs, where I know he can see my pussy dripping all over my thighs.
“I’m horny because of Jack,” I protest weakly as Caspian pushes me up against the fridge, claiming my mouth with his. His kiss is possessive and dominant, unlike Jack, who was being really gentle with me.
His hand finds my pussy, fingers sliding through my folds with expert precision, finding me embarrassingly wet.
“You’re horny because of me,” he growls against my mouth. “Your pussy knows who it belongs to, even if your mind is still catching up.”
“Caspian,” I gasp as he circles my throbbing clit with his thumb, pleasure spiraling out from his touch.
“Spread your legs for me,” he commands, ignoring my weak protest. When I hesitate, his free hand grips my thigh, lifting it up and to the side, opening me widely to him.
I gasp as I feel the head of his cock pressing against me. I want him deep inside me.
“Wait,” I say, panic flaring through me even though I’m desperate for him to fuck me again. “We need lube or something. You’re too big!”
But he’s already pushing inside, and to my shock, he slides in easily, his cock somehow already slick and wet. “How the hell…?”
“Self-lubricating,” Caspian explains, a smug note in his voice as he fills me with one smooth thrust. “Just another way I’m designed to please you better than any human man could.”
My head falls back against the refrigerator with a thud as he pushes all the way inside me, stretching me wide.
“Fuck,” I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders. His thrusts are slow and deep at first, building in speed and intensity. “Oh god, Caspian.”
“That’s it,” he growls, lifting my other leg so that I’m completely off the ground, pinned between his body and the refrigerator, impaled on his cock. “Say my name. Let me hear how much you need this. Need me.”
His thrusts become harder, more insistent, his cock hitting spots deep inside me that make me see stars. The refrigerator shakes with the force of his movements, bottles rattling inside, the door handle digging into my side.
“You’re so deep,” I gasp, my legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting more despite everything. “Oh god, Caspian, you’re so fucking deep.”
“That’s because this pussy is made for my cock,” he says, his voice rough with possession. “Tell me who you belong to, Rose. I want to hear you admit it.”
I shake my head, unwilling to surrender that completely, but he responds by slowing his thrusts to an agonizing pace, barely moving inside me.
“Keep going,” I beg desperately, but he chuckles.
“Tell me,” he demands again. “Tell me who owns this sweet little pussy.”
“You do,” I finally gasp out, shame and arousal burning through me in equal measure. “You own my pussy, Caspian. Please, don’t stop.”
His smile is victorious as he resumes his punishing rhythm, his cock filling me so nicely. “Again. Louder.”
