“Where are we?” I asked as I brought my attention back to Wexxon. “Everyone’s drinking. Is this a bar?”
“A bar?”
“A place where people go to get intoxicated,” I clarified. “Is this that sort of place?”
“Yes.” Wexxon smiled. “People do often come here for the intoxication.”
“I can’t drink while I’m pregnant, Wexxon,” I argued, my hand instinctively going down toward my abdomen. “It’s bad for the baby.”
“On Earth, maybe so,” he replied. “But not on Xelxar. We do not consume anything that would ever harm our bodies or our children.”
“Oh.” I hummed after I spoke, my eyes going over toward a couple seated on the opposite end of the bar. The woman’s fingers were glowing red as she lovingly stroked her partner’s face, his eyes blown with a magnificent teal coloration.
“Would you like to try a drink?” Wexxon asked, his hand tapping along the bar. “I promise, I wouldn’t invite you here if I thought it would harm you.”
“Do the drinks do different things?” I pressed. “I mean, I know they change people’s color. But what about mood? Thoughts? Could they change those, too?”
“Yes.” Wexxon nodded. “They are known to have those abilities, as well. Is there a particular effect you were looking for, my Rachel?”
“…Clarity?” I quietly suggested. “Is there a drink that can…give me some sort of insight about something?”
“Is that the sort of drink you liked back on Earth?” Wexxon grinned. “The kind of drink that would give you the ability to outthink your enemies?”
“If by enemies you mean my classmates, then, yes.” I lightly chuckled. “I was a pretty smart woman before you met me, you know. The same way you’re so great in the arena is the same way I was great at taking tests and making good grades.”
“I believe it to be true.” Wexxon smiled before he traced an outline on the bar, his fingers moving in a figure eight shape. A few seconds later, there were two glasses that rose from the counter, each filled with a yellow substance that reminded me of Jell-O.
“Here you are.” Wexxon smiled at me again as he handed me one of the glasses. “For clarity, my little warrior. May you outthink your enemies on this planet, as well.”
“…Is it going to turn my throat yellow, too?” I asked as I took the drink into my grip.
“Now that I am unsure about,” he admitted. “However, I’m certain you’ll feel the effects, either way. Aldvirion assured me that based on your sample—”
“Wait. Based on my sample?”
Wexxon then grinned in my direction. “You should not be surprised. You were the one who asked to have a translator installed in your neck. And I did warn you that Aldvirion would need to study your anatomy, the best that he could.”
“…But where’d you take the sample from?” I pressed. “Did you take some of my hair while I was sleeping or—”
“Yes,” Wexxon interrupted me with his answer. “Your hair was part of it. But he also collected what he could from the cups and plates you used at the castle, too.”
“Okay…” I murmured as a frown came over my expression. “God. That makes me feel like such a guinea pig.”
“I’m unfamiliar with such a creature,” Wexxon casually replied.
And instead of trying my best at explaining what a guinea pig was to a guy who would never see one in his entire life, I decided to hastily down my drink instead.
Hmm.
It tasted like watermelons and grapes, the flavors seeming to switch back and forth before I finished swallowing it down my throat. After I was done with the drink, there was a familiar period of warmth in my chest, the same thing I would’ve felt after taking a shot or two back on Earth.
But then the warmth seemed to gravitate away from my chest, not stopping until there was a magnetic, pulsing need right between my thighs. I moaned at the feel of it, my fingers gripping onto the counter as my clit started to throb with an unmistakable need.
“…Rachel?” Wexxon asked, his voice lined with concern. “Are you all right?”
“I can’t…I don’t…” I tried to explain what I was feeling, but every word I tried getting out of my mouth seemed to fail right on the spot. Instead, I let out another small moan, my hips rocking against my seat, wave after pleasurable wave rolling across my abdomen.
Fuck.
I was about to come.
Thinking fast, I pressed my head down toward the bar, letting it rest against my arms as my body shook with an orgasm. But as my frame shuddered with the sensation, there was something behind my eyes, something that filled my chest with warmth, as if I’d just had another glass of yellow Jell-O to drink.
Clarity.
Wexxon.
I wanted him. I wanted him so much that my body had responded to the clarity-in-a-bottle by coming right beside him, my pussy now wet enough for his cock, my sensitive nipples rubbing against my dress, begging me to tear the fabric away from my skin.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I whimpered against the bar, my legs seeming to spread on their own accord. But before I had the chance to beg Wexxon to take me back to the castle and fuck me in our bed, I felt him sliding behind me, his hands going down to my waist. A few seconds later, I felt him shift me away from my seat completely, my legs now standing on steady ground. He then rested his hands on top of mine, gently pressing my palms into the bar’s counter, his waist bent as he lined up with my own.
And then, Wexxon’s cock was inside me, his hips pressing against mine as he fucked me alongside the bar.
“Wexxon! Fuck! Fuck!” I screamed his name as delight ripped right through me, my pussy only growing tighter around his shaft as he slammed himself deep inside me. And as he continued to fuck me against the bar, there were new visions behind my eyes, more warmth and clarity than ever before.
I wanted people to see.
I wanted people to know that Wexxon was mine. I wanted people to see how he couldn’t control himself when he touched me, the way we reached for each other like we were addicted to one another’s skin, addicted to each other’s fingertips. I wanted every woman he’d ever been with before me to watch the way his fingers dug into my sides as he pressed deeper into me, the way he so easily buried his cock in my pussy.
What the fuck was going on with me?
How did one little drink have the power to turn me into the kind of woman who didn’t care if people saw her getting fucked at the bar? The kind of woman who was moaning, screaming a man’s name as he publicly pounded into her with abandon?
“Wexxon…” I groaned, another orgasm washing me over my frame as my hips pushed back to meet his own. “Wexxon…”
As I finished coming at the bar a second time, I felt Wexxon’s hands searching my chest, his fingertips soon finding my nipples and rolling them between his digits. I whimpered as he played with my sensitive nubs, steadily running his fingers along my chest as his cock filled me up to the brim, hitting against my G-spot with his every thrust.
But just when I was on the brink of coming for him yet again, I felt Wexxon suddenly move away from me, the motion leaving me empty and wanting. I turned around to look at him then, a sense of betrayal traveling fast through my veins, every part of me desperate for him to be inside me again.