Broken Toys (A Robo Fizz Romance) (18+)

Chapter 18: A Game For Two

"They showed me the video when it was all said and done. Oddly, as satisfying as it was initially, I still don't feel better. I mean, yeah Pamela deserves everything she got. But, Damien? Maybe I shouldn't have killed him too. I mean, yeah the cheating was awful, but he didn't have anything to do with my actual cause of death..."

Samara clutched her hands in her lap, looking sad and lost.

Fizz tucked her hair behind her ear and had her look up at him.

"Hey. C-c'mon...what's done is-s done. And nobody cou-llld blame you for that k-kind of snap. I meannn we're in fuu-uucking Hell! You did whaat you thought was right. And if he-he threw away your memmorrry that easily, then he di-didn't deserve you. Mmaybe I don't either, but—"

He leaned in, and without realizing it, he'd closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Samara's, drawing her into his arms, lust and protectiveness clawing at him from the inside.

Samara melted into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and deepening the kiss herself. Her head was swimming, and confusion bubbled up in her heart. Was this wrong? She really liked him and Fizzarolli. Could she really have either, or both? Fizz's tongue slipping past her lips shoved her concerns back into a corner though for later inspection. She didn't need to dwell on the mistakes of her past or even her complicated love life. What she needed right now was him.

The couple fell backwards onto the couch, with Samara pinned under Fizz's body. He pulled back for a moment to stare down at her, feeling the urge to gasp in breaths that he didn't even require. She was staring up at him with half-lidded eyes, and just as he was about to sit back up and apologize, his thoughts flashed to all of the jobs he'd done, all of the clients he'd pleasured, all the nights he'd been used and then tossed into a washing machine to bang around only to do it all again once he was 'clean'. No, he wanted, needed something that he chose for himself, and Samara was it. He loved her, he wanted her, and nothing except her say-so would stop him now.

Samara felt Fizz's clawed fingers hook under the waist of her pants, tugging them down and then off of her slender legs. She shivered when she realized he'd taken her underwear too. She opened her mouth to protest and ask him to slow down, but the words died in her throat as a loud groan of pleasure leaked out instead. Fizz had buried his face between her thighs and was feasting on her most sensitive parts like he'd found a free buffet.

"Satan's sweaty ballsack that feels fucking good!" She screamed, tugging the tails of his hat in her hands while grinding her hips into his face. His bells jingled in her grip.

"I wa-as built for enterta-tainment aaaaand pleasure."

Fizz lifted his head momentarily to boast, glowing eyes filled with pride as he regarded the disheveled woman whose chest was heaving. He gave her a few seconds to catch her breath, licking his lips before he was at it again, expertly bringing her over the edge. Feeling her seize up and shudder before going limp in his grasp. He chuckled darkly, glad for the first time for this particular skill set.

"I can see that, wow..."

Samara let her head fall back into the cushions. Once she'd recovered, she sat back up, an expression he'd never seen on her lifting her lips in a seductive smirk. Her tail swished playfully, before reaching out and dragging its tip down his cheek. Her demonic aura had kicked up, and her white pupils glowed brightly with a lustful delight. Her teeth seemed sharper than ever in the grin that lifted her full lips now.

"But, you know, in many ways so was I."

She pounced him, ravaging his lips with her own until his head spun, almost literally.