Mars Time: 23:45, February 18, 2295

  Shower Unit, Room 2847, Poison Dragon Flute Hotel, Dragon District, Xing Hong

  Xin stepped closer in the dim bathroom light, steam already curling from the showerhead Sigrun twisted on. Water pattered against tile, warm mist rising. Her tall body gleamed, all pale muscle and curves that hit him like a system overload, strong shoulders tapering to hips that packed power and allure in equal measure.

  She turned to him, smile sharp. "Let's unwrap you first."

  Before he could reply, her hands found his socks, peeling them off one by one, toes curling against the cool floor as she placed them beside. Then her fingers hooked his boxer shorts. She tugged them down smooth, fabric sliding over his thighs, his erection springing free. Heat rushed his face as she calmly folded the shorts neat and setting them on the wall shelf.

  "Easy, right?" she murmured, voice low and steady over the water's rush. "Don't be shy, you can touch me."

  "Then allow me…" His hands shook as he reached for her black sports bra. Fingers fumbled the clasp, metal slipping twice. "Sorry."

  Sigrun didn't laugh, just guided his thumbs with hers, pressing until the hooks clicked. Fabric peeled away, revealing those full, heavy breasts—snowy swells that rose and fell with her breath, nipples hardening in the steamy air. He swallowed hard, pulse hammering in his veins.

  There were what appeared to be a pair of small sucker marks marring the left side of her belly. Xin bit back the urge to ask how she got those.

  "And that's that! Now the rest..." She steered his hands lower, patient as he gripped the waistband of her black sports underwear. He pulled slow, clumsy tugs exposing inch by inch. First, the trim line of blonde hair framing her womanhood, neat and golden against pale skin, then the whole of her as the fabric hit her ankles. She stepped out, and he straightened, placing the pieces on the shelf next to his.

  Her confident smile held, those blue eyes sparkling. There she stood, naked and real, breasts gloriously big, pubes finely trimmed around her vagina like a sacred, forbidden cache.

  Water became louder now, inviting. Sigrun stepped under the spray, pulling Xin with her. Steam thickened the air, beads racing down her skin. She squeezed soap from the wall dispenser into her palm, lathering it into a foam.

  "Here, let me." Her fingers wrapped around his cock, firm grip sliding from base to tip in slow, strokes. Suds built, slick and warm, as she worked him clean, twisting gently at the head, thumb circling the sensitive ridge.

  Xin's shaft stiffened further in her hand, thickening against her touch. Heat bloomed in him, twelve years of pent-up want amplifying every sensation. He gripped the shower rail, breath hitching.

  She glanced up, blue eyes locking on his through the downpour. "It's so hard already. Is it me, or the steam?"

  Water streamed down her breasts, rivulets tracing the curves. Her teasing words hit, firing neurons he couldn't shut down.

  That's when something awakened in him.

  Xin reached down, his hand finding hers mid-stroke. Fingers interlaced with her soapy ones, holding tight. The simple press felt electric.

  "Hey! What're you doing?" Sigrun's response was instant.

  "It just feels good, touching you like this." Surprised, Xin found his own voice becoming deeper. Something real, honest and primal was waking up inside him.

  She chuckled before withdrawing her hand gently. "Let me wash myself real quick, okay?"

  "Oh! Okay." Instinctively, he looked away.

  Sigrun turned under the spray, her back to him now, hands working the soap over her ivory body. Water cascaded down her strong back, tracing the faint pink scars earned from what Xin could only guess—perhaps the battlefield, or the bedchamber, or both.

  He caught glimpses as she scrubbed: suds sliding over her shoulders, down the curve of her ass, between her thighs. She moved like it was routine, no show, just getting clean. But the sight of her backside was arousing and divine, the steam thick with the scent of hotel soap and something like lily.

  Xin shifted his weight, the water pounding his skin, trying not to stare too hard. His erection throbbed, insistent, but he kept his hands at his sides. "Uh, need help with anything?"

  She glanced over her shoulder, water dripping from her lashes. "I'm good. Just give me a sec." Her voice was so calm and casual, like they were chatting over coffee, not standing naked in a shower. She rinsed off fast, twisting the knob to shut off the flow. The sudden quiet left only their breathing and the drip-drip-drip sound from the head.

  Sigrun then grabbed a towel from the rack, tossing one to him. "Here. Dry off before you catch a chill." She rubbed hers over her golden hair first, then her body.

  Xin fumbled with his, patting himself down, watching how she wrapped the towel around her waist. She left her ample breasts bare, and they swayed a little as she stepped out.

  He followed her, wrapping his towel low on his hips, the fabric tenting awkwardly against him. They stepped into the bedroom, feet leaving damp prints on the thin carpet. The bed was large with rumpled sheets, air humming with the faint buzz of the hotel's ventilation. Exotic for her, with those dragon motifs on the walls.

  Sigrun dropped her towel on a chair and sat on the edge of the bed. Her legs parted slightly, blonde hair damp and loose above her shoulders.

  She glanced at her left wrist, then at his. "The watches. We should take them off."

  "Oh. Right." Taking off his black-rimmed glasses, Xin fumbled with the clasp of his Nucleus Watch, his fingers clumsy with anticipation. The green glow dimmed as he set it on the nightstand beside the bed.

  Sigrun slipped hers off, the silver-white metal catching the lamplight before she placed it next to his. Without the devices, there were no stats to track, no notifications to interrupt. Just two people, stripped of measurements and metrics.

  "Better," she said, her voice quieter now as she patted the spot next to her. "Come here."

  Xin sat, the mattress dipping under him. His heart raced like a faulty engine. He reached out, hesitant at first, cupping one of her breasts. It filled his hand, soft and warm, the weight surprising. He squeezed gently, thumb brushing her nipple, feeling it pebble under his touch.

  She let out a soft hum, not quite a moan. "Am I turning you on?"

  "It's so good." Was all Xin could manage. He was afraid to imagine how silly he was smiling right now.

  "Say it again." She purred encouraging. He wondered if she was putting up an act, but was really in the mood like he was.

  "Your boobs feel so good, Sigrun." He said it like a college student on his virgin night.

  She reached down, her fingers wrapping around his cock. She stroked slow, base to tip, her grip sure. "You've got nice hands, Xin. Gentle."

  "Yeah...I mean, thanks." He squeezed again, kneading both breasts now, fascinated by how they moved, how her skin flushed under his palms.

  Almost twelve years since he'd touched a woman like this. It was heaven.

  But words tumbled out, awkward as ever. "I, uh, read on the Extranet that squeezing can feel good, but not too hard. Is this okay? I don't want to…"

  "It's fine." She chuckled, her stroke picking up a little speed, making him gasp. "You're thinking too much. Just feel it."

  They sat like that for a minute, her hand working him steady, his on her chest, the room quiet except for their breathing. It was weirdly comfortable, but the awkwardness hung there, like they were both figuring out the rhythm.

  Mars Time: 23:55, February 18, 2295

  Room 2847, Poison Dragon Flute Hotel, Dragon District, Xing Hong

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Sigrun tilted her head, blue eyes meeting his. "Okay, what do you want? You can do whatever. I'm here for it."

  Xin’s mouth went dry. He'd thought about this, just in the last hour, all the positions, all the things he could do…but saying even the simplest one felt huge. "I...I want to taste you. Down there."

  Her eyebrows lifted. Then she just nodded, shifting back on the bed, legs spreading wider. "Alright. Eat all you like."

  He moved between her thighs, heart pounding. She guided his head down, her fingers in his hair. His face hovered inches from her core, breath quickening at the sight.

  Golden curls framed her entrance, a neat blonde grove that caught the bedside lamp's glow like threads of sunlight. They formed a soft triangle, trimmed close but natural, leading to her pink and glistening folds. His eyes widened. It had been too long since he'd last seen anything so real. The way those fine hairs curled slightly, damp from the steam, made his mouth water. Her labia parted just a touch, revealing the slick inner lips, and he marveled at how the blonde patch contrasted her snowy skin, drawing his gaze like a magnetic field.

  "Beautiful," Xin whispered, voice thick. Fingers trembled as he reached out, tracing the edge of her pubes with one fingertip. Soft. Alive. Each curl sprang back under his touch.

  Sigrun shifted her hips. "Go on."

  Xin leaned in closer, nose brushing those golden strands, and inhaled deeply, appreciating the faint salt of her depths. He pressed his lips to her mound first, kissing the blonde hairs, feeling them tickle his skin.

  A soft laugh escaped her. "Knock, knock."

  He chuckled before his tongue darted out, lapping at the curls before delving lower, exploring her folds. She arched slightly, fingers tightening in his hair. After marveling at that fine blonde grove framing everything one more time, he lowered himself.

  The scent hit him: musky, sweat mixed with soap and lily. He pressed his mouth to her, tongue tentative at first, licking along her folds.

  He began lapping at her clit, feeling her thighs tense around his ears. He lost himself in it as he pressed his lips to her vagina.

  She tasted salty and slick, like cheese, like a tiny piece of raw fish freshly caught from the river. So smelly, so alive, so foul.

  So perfect.

  "Right there," she murmured, hips shifting. "Suck a little harder...yeah, like that."

  He tried again, lips massaging her clit like it was a delicate nectar.

  Her breaths came faster, a soft "Good" slipping out. His cock ached against the sheets, but he focused on her, on the way she arched, the way her thighs clenched his head.

  After a bit, she tugged his hair gently, purring sensually. "What position?"

  Xin lifted his head, face flushed and wet. Such simple words, but he understood the meaning. "I…I don't know. It's been so long, I wish we could try them all. H-h-have any ideas?"

  "Missionary then. Old school, easy." She pulled him up, guiding him between her legs.

  "I can do that." Somehow, he regretted speaking, like every word he uttered could make it all less exhilirating. He suddenly wished they'd keep the Nucleus Watches on so he could guage her actual mood now.

  "Slow, okay? Let me feel you." Her hand found his length, lining him up.

  He pushed in, inch by inch, her warmth enveloping him like a gentle flame. The heat was almost overwhelming, better than any dream he had ever had. He groaned, burying himself deep, feeling her damp inner walls contracting his sticky length. The sensation was the best feeling in the universe. It brought back memories, and he let out a low, husky moan.

  But his hands hovered uselessly at his sides, uncertain. He didn't know where to put them. On the sheets? On her shoulders? Somewhere else?

  Sigrun's brow furrowed slightly as he shifted his weight. "Your hands."

  "Y-y-yes? What about them?" He froze mid-thrust, panic in his voice.

  "On my waist." She reached down, guiding his palms to rest on her hips. Her skin was warm under his touch, the muscle firm beneath softness. "Hold me like this."

  He gripped her tentatively, feeling the strength in her hourglass body, the way her waist tapered. It felt real. It was real.

  "Better," she breathed with a mischievous grin. "It feels bigger than I thought."

  He chuckled, feeling heat up his cheeks. "You really think so?"

  "Really." She smiled. "Now try again."

  But Xin’s rhythm faltered almost immediately, his breathing ragged and uneven. He was too tense, wound too tight.

  "Hey." Sigrun's voice softened. "Come here."

  She pulled him down gently, guiding his head to rest between her breasts. The warmth of her body enveloped him, her heartbeat was music to his ear. For a moment, he just lay there, buried inside her and feeling everything.

  So good.

  "Relax," she murmured, one hand threading through his damp hair. "We have time. Just breathe."

  He inhaled deeply, his nose pressed against her sternum. The lily scent in her sweat mingled with the soap. His gaze traced the landscape of her upper body: the swell of her breasts on either side of his face, heavy and soft; the defined lines of her collarbones above, shadows pooling in the hollows; the subtle curve of her shoulders, broader than his own.

  Her biceps flexed slightly as she adjusted her arm, and he marveled at the lean muscle there, not bulky but visible. This was a woman who cared for her body, who trained it, who wielded axes and survived Mars's brutality. His own arms felt so thin in comparison, his lifestyle of screens and code leaving him soft where she was firm.

  "Your body..." he started, his voice muffled against her skin.

  "What?"

  "It's...impressive. Like you've been working out your whole life."

  She laughed softly, her chest rising and falling beneath him. "Eleven years on this rock. Bounty huntress by day…Leased Lily by night…"

  "You must've been through a lot." He tilted his head slightly, pressing a kiss to the curve of her breast. "I barely exercise. I'm probably the weakest person you've ever—"

  "Stop. I don't care." Her fingers tightened in his hair, not harsh but insistent. "You're here. That's what matters."

  For a moment, neither spoke. The warmth between them, with his body still buried in hers, felt less like a transaction and more like something else.

  "Ready?" she asked after a long pause.

  He nodded against her chest, lifting his head to meet her eyes.

  She cupped his face with both hands, thumbs brushing his cheekbones, and for a second, he thought they might kiss. But instead, she just looked at him, her blue eyes searching his like she was trying to memorize something.

  Then she pressed her forehead to his, her breath so warm against his lips.

  "Don't think." she whispered, so quiet he almost missed it. "Just feel."

  It wasn't something a prostitute would do. Not like this. This was tender. Intimate in a way that had nothing to do with the transaction they'd started.

  His throat tightened. He wanted to say something: "thank you", or "I'm so glad it's you", "best moment of my life" or a dozen other things that tangled in his chest.

  But before he could, she released his face and lay back, her hands sliding to his waist again.

  "Move," she whispered, her voice breathy and urgent. "Like this." Her hips rolled, showing him the rhythm, guiding him into a slow, sensual grind. Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him closer, her nails digging gently into his small back.

  He thrust again, clumsy at first, but he was finding a proper pace. She had experience, and he had needs.

  They found their rhythm. His hips rolled against hers, her body meeting his movements. In the next minutes, so brief yet so eternal, there was nothing but moans and wet slapping sounds between them—in, out, and in, and out—

  A loud, wailing klaxon split through the air, echoing from somewhere outside the window. His hands tightened on Sigrun's waist as the sound drilled in.

  "That's..." Xin paused mid-thrust, his breaths uneven. "Siren for Radi-Mon attacks? Should we—"

  "Fuck that." Sigrun snapped beneath him, irritation flashing in her blue eyes. Her legs tightened around his hips, pulling him back in. "Don't stop."

  "But—we should know what it—" He met her gaze, half his mind already wondering about distances to the nearest shelter, threat assessments, evacuation routes.

  "Focus—" She reached up with one hand, her palm warm against his cheek, fingers gentle as they traced his jawline. Her touch grounded him, cut through the panic spiraling in his chest. Her thumb brushed his lower lip. "—on me."

  He swallowed hard, the siren still blaring outside, muffled through the hotel walls but persistent.

  "Sigrun, you…I…"

  "Focus. On. Me." Each word was punctuated by a subtle roll of her hips, her tender walls clenching his cock, making him gasp. It was so warm inside her depths.

  The sirens didn't stop. But now she was the only thing that mattered in the universe. His hands steadied on her waist again, and he began to move again, drilling deeper.

  Outside, Mars screamed its warning. Inside, they drowned it out, moaning in sync, their bodies slapping together, sweat building between them. The bed creaked, protesting the motion, but they didn't care.

  It built fast for him, that pressure coiling in his belly like a spring. He could feel it rising. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back, caught in the euphoria.

  "Xin, you beast! So deep in me. So deep in me—!" she gasped, her hand slipping between them, fingers on her clit.

  Her piercing blue eyes locked onto his, pupils dilated with desire. Time seemed to slow as climax washed over him. Her breath hitched sharply, lips parting around a ragged moan as her inner walls pulsed around him, her clenching vagina squeezing his penis, the twitch of her tight passage drawing out his release with torturous sweetness.

  Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she arched against him, a broken whimper escaping her throat just as he began spilling his seed deep inside her warm, welcoming depths. For that moment between heartbeats their bodies and breath and pleasure intertwined as the outside world ceased to exist.

  In the hazy aftermath, both trembling, their eyes fluttered shut. Then their lips met, unexpected, unplanned.

  Then the kiss. Her mouth was soft yet firm against his, neither demanding nor passive, just desperately present. There was something that tasted like happiness and regret all at once, something words couldn't carry, but somehow he felt it.

  Their sweat-slick bodies still pressed together, their breaths heavy and mingling. Slowly, gently, Xin pulled out from Sigrun who exhaled, his softening penis glistening with their mixed juice. He collapsed onto the bed beside her, muscles lax, chest rising and falling in time with her fading tremors.

  His gaze drifted downward, taking in the sight of her parted thighs, her flushed skin, and the single pearl-white strand of fluid that trailed from her still-quivering entrance.

  "Xin, you beast. You cummed so much…" Her panting slowed as she whispered again. "You cummed so much."

  Something warm settled in his chest. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt whole and content.

  And then it slipped out, raw and true: "I love you, Sigrun."

  Sigrun froze, pulling away like he'd burned her. Sadness hit her face, deep and real.

  "Sigrun? You okay?" Xin whispered.

  "You don't love me," she said quietly, sitting up, arms wrapping around herself. "You love the idea of me. It's not real."

  Outside, the sirens wailed once more.

  Xin sat up too, confused, hurt twisting in his chest. "But...I've been thinking about this since we met. I calculated—I mean, I thought about it many times when we were in the Warren."

  "You…I…" Sigrun turned to him, incredulous. "...I won't let myself believe it."

  "The probability of meeting someone like you again is—" He stopped, frustrated, running a hand through his damp hair. "I'm saying this wrong. I don't know how to say it right. But it's real. What I feel is real."

  Suddenly, the ceiling exploded. Debris fell, loud and threatening. Concrete and plaster rained down in chunks, dust billowing through the room like a sandstorm. Through the jagged hole above, a massive shape descended—all muscle and chitin, landing with a floor-shaking thud that knocked the bedside lamp to the carpet.