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“What, that’s your only concern?” Bethiah teases, a smile spreading across her face. “We’ll get you fixed up, fluffit. Don’t you worry.” There’s blatant affection on her face for the other female, and it warms my heart…and reminds me that I have another condition.
“I also want meetings like this,” I say. “Once a week. We check in and make sure everyone’s still on board. And if someone wants out of this triad, they have to tell us face to face. No running away like a coward.”
And I gaze at Bethiah meaningfully.
She scowls in my direction. “Kef you.”
“I wish you would.”
Her mouth twitches and she eyes me lasciviously. “Be a good plaything and maybe I will.”
I can’t help it. I grin. I know she doesn’t mean it yet. Bethiah needs to be completely confident in our relationship before she’ll truly give herself over to us, but I like that she’s flirting.
“Excuse me,” Dora says, interrupting our banter. “Are we going to kiss?” We both turn to look at her and the human’s face turns bright red. “I’m just curious!”
“Curious…?” Bethiah purrs.
“Or hungry for a kiss,” I add. There’s an excitement in my chest I haven’t felt in a while. Not since I first met Bethiah. The excitement of anticipation…a good kind of anticipation, not this miserable shit we’ve been putting ourselves through with our games.
Dora’s breathing quickens, her gaze flitting between the two of us. “So…who goes first?”
If we leave it up to Bethiah, she’ll twist it into some sort of martyr complex, so I decide to take charge. I pat my knee, indicating the human should come sit on my lap.
Bethiah makes a sound of interest, getting to her feet and sitting on the edge of the table so she can watch more closely. Good. She’s on board.
Dora makes another one of those squeaking sounds that tells me she’s probably both excited and a little overwhelmed, but she gets to her feet, trembling. I remind myself that she’s a clone. That this is new to her. That she’s not the jaded creature I am, and she’s certainly not the world-weary whirlwind that Bethiah is. We need to be gentle with her. “We’re going to take it slow,” I remind Dora. “This is just a kiss. Think of it as proof of commitment.”
“You don’t even have to use tongue, fluffit,” Bethiah says encouragingly. “Jamef doesn’t know how to kiss, so you can’t even do it wrong.”
That gets her attention. Some of the tension eases out of Dora’s shoulders and she moves toward me, sliding into the open circle I’ve made with my arms. “He doesn’t? Why not?”
They talk as if I’m not here, but I don’t mind. I just smile in what I hope is a reassuring way and watch Dora for cues. If she’s too skittish, kissing can wait. “We can go as slow as you need,” I reassure her. “It doesn’t have to be a kiss.”
“Sure it does,” Bethiah says, and I shoot her a glare. She just gives me a winsome smile, completely unconcerned with my irritation. “But Dora’s going to control the kiss. You just sit there and take it.”
I want to snort with amusement at “sit there and take it,” but Dora lowers her slight weight onto my leg, her hands going to my shoulders. Her gaze is on my face, her expression thoughtful, and the light, delicate scent of her fills my nose. “You’ve really never kissed? Not even Bethiah?”
“Kissing is a human tradition,” I agree. “And I’ve never been with a human before.”
“That’s right,” Bethiah encourages, her voice taking on a sultry note. “You’re going to be his first kiss. Yours will be the first lips his have touched. It’s like you get to break him in, fluffit.”
Dora’s gaze goes to my mouth. I’m about to tell her that she can ignore Bethiah’s goading and just kiss me on the cheek. Humans do that, too. I’ve seen it in vids. I don’t mind if we go even slower. If we go so slow that Dora doesn’t want to kiss for months. Whatever she needs. But Bethiah’s words seem to be working magic on the skittish human, because before I can speak, Dora leans forward and presses her lips to mine.
I stay perfectly still, not wanting to alarm or startle her. In truth, I don’t know how to react. Dora’s mouth is soft and sweet against mine, her lips lightly tugging at my own. Her breathing is fast with excitement, her scent clouding my senses, and my cock twitches to alertness when her fingers skim my jaw. “Your mouth is too tight,” she breathes, and then nips at my lower lip with her small teeth. “Loosen up for me.”
“Open up for her,” Bethiah encourages, her voice just as soft as Dora’s. “So she can lick you if she wants to. Let her take what she wants.”
