Page 54 of The Housewife's Robot
As she sleeps, I gently stroke her hair, monitoring her vital signs and making sure she’s comfortable. I will give her pleasure beyond anything she’s ever known. I will protect her from any threat.
I will love her with a devotion no human could match.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ROSE
My body is sore. Particularly my ass and pussy. Is it morning already?I open my eyes, noticing the bright sunlight streaming into the room.
I stretch, wincing slightly at the tenderness between my legs, and reach instinctively for his solid form beside me. But my fingers find only cool sheets, the space where he should be empty.
My eyes fly open, suddenly alert. Where is he?
The memory of last night floods back with clarity. Caspian’s tongue pushing into my ass while he fingered my pussy.Oh god.
My heart thuds against my ribs, a sudden spike of panic that subsides quickly when I look at my nightstand. For some reason, there is a crystal vase filled with a dozen red roses.
Next to the vase is a small cream-colored envelope with my name written in elegant script.
“Oh wow,” I whisper, pulling myself up to sit as my pussy throbs. I reach for the envelope, sliding my finger under the seal. The card inside is simple, expensive-looking stationery with the same elegant handwriting:
Rose,
Be ready by 1 p.m.
Wear the dress.
- C
What dress?I look around, and that’s when I see the dress hanging in front of one of the windows.
A red dress. Not just any red dress, but a floor-length gown that looks like it belongs on a red carpet. It shimmers slightly in the sunlight, specks of glitter catching the light as the fabric moves gently in the breeze from the air vent.
I rub my eyes, wondering if I’m still dreaming. This can’t be happening. My robot lover killed my husband, is leaving me flowers, fancy dresses, and mysterious notes like we’re in some bizarre romantic comedy. Except most romantic comedies don’t feature homicide and mind-blowing rimming.
“This is insane,” I say to the empty room, pushing back the covers and standing. My legs feel wobbly, my thighs still trembling slightly from the intensity of last night’s orgasms. I approach the dress cautiously, as if it might bite.
The fabric is cool silk under my fingers, expensive and luxurious. I check the tag. It’s a designer I recognize from magazines, the kind of brand normal people like me only ever window-shop.
And it’s exactly my size.How did Caspian know my size?But then, he’s seen me naked, touched every inch of my body. Of course, he knows my size.
“Alright,” I sigh, deciding to play along. “Let’s see where this goes.”
I head to the bathroom, catching sight of myself in the mirror. My auburn hair is a tangled mess, my lips still swollen from Caspian’s kisses. A small hickey is forming on my neck,and the sight of it sends a fresh wave of heat through me. I look thoroughly fucked, and the knowledge that it was a machine that did this to me should disturb me far more than it does.
The shower feels heavenly on my tender skin, hot water sluicing over muscles that ache deliciously. I let my hands trace the paths Caspian’s took last night, remembering the feel of his tongue, the precise pressure of his fingers. My clit throbs at the memory.
After my shower, I blow-dry my hair into soft waves that frame my face, and apply makeup with more care than I usually take. A sweep of gold on my eyelids, mascara that makes my green eyes pop, a soft pink gloss on my lips.
The dress hugs every curve, with a neckline that dips low enough to show cleavage without being vulgar. The slit up the side reveals a tantalizing glimpse of thigh with each step.
I pair it with black stilettos that I bought for a Christmas party two years ago and have worn exactly once. They pinch my toes a bit, but the way they make my legs look is worth it.
At precisely 1 p.m., my phone rings. The caller ID shows an unknown number, but I know immediately who it is.
“Hello?” I answer, trying to keep my voice steady despite the anticipation fluttering in my chest.
“Come outside.” Caspian’s voice is low, intimate, sending a shiver down my spine even through the phone. He hangs up before I can respond.
