One hand passed over my bare breasts, squeezing them each gently in turn, and then down over my sex. His fingers slipped between my thighs, lifting one up and guiding my leg to rest over his.

At the back of my mind, I marveled at my own lack of surprise that Khell was maneuvering me for more sex. This was my role here, wonderfully simple and shockingly decadent. I was his to use.

But Khell was drawing me to lean against him, his arms around me, hands covering my hips and fingers digging in. I moaned softly at the lovely, aching relief that followed, Khell carefully working my muscles loose. There was a hint of arousal as he touched me, hands stroking the crease of my thighs and just outside of my sex, down the inner muscles of my thighs and around to return to my ass, but the day had been too long and too full of extreme sensation for me to do more than accept the gentle attention my orc offered.

There you go again, I hissed to myself, but half of my brain was already offline, exhausted and soothed by Khell's massage, and the other half was following quickly.

"You were perfect today, petal."

"So were you," I murmured, snuggling back into the warm and velvety chest at my back. "The whole time. I'm lucky it was you, beast."

Why can't it always be you, Khell?

"I'm lucky too."

I felt the words more than heard them, a whisper over the top of my head, tickling through my mess of hair, fluttering over my falling lashes as I sank to sleep at last.

* * *

I woke before Khell, the den just faintly lit by the lamps, enough for me to sit up in the nest of blankets and pillows and stare down at the orc snoring softly.

I'd come to the agency, to Khell, to discover a truth about myself. But I'd accomplished that easily enough on the very first day. Now I found myself obsessed with the male before me, curious about the truth of Khell. He was a secret to me, presented at my feet, naked and handsome and sexual, but that exposure was a kind of deception.

He knew my private fantasies, every inch of my body, now some of my own history. I knew the snarl on his face as he glared down at me almost in anger, exploding with satisfaction inside of me. I knew his laughter, and I was certain it was honest. But I didn't know which of his words were true, or if what we did together was more than the base satisfaction of fucking for him. I thought he was enjoying himself as much as I was, but while this was a job, I couldn't be certain.

Did I really want Khell, or did I want his performance that was designed to please me?