Sigrun’s hand wrapped around Dante’s manhood, her grip firm as she worked him. Despite his towering bulk, what she held was underwhelming, a small piece of flesh compared to the rest of him. Still, she leaned closer, her breath hot against his ear, letting out soft moans that echoed his own gruff sounds. The room filled with their synchronized noises, a competent but hollow performance for her, but perhaps a long brewed fantasy becoming real for him.

  “Can you—use that—mouth of yours this time?” Dante growled between labored breaths, his massive hands gripping her hips. “Never had you blown my schlong.”

  She smirked, her voice dipping low as her stroking slowed. "That part of me isn't for sale, my sweet."

  While it was never clear to her why so many men would put their private parts into her jaw, she'd never let anyone beyond Jupiter do it. No one had ever been allowed to put their dong in her mouth or anywhere near her face, not even with condoms.

  No one except Ivar.

  "Ridiculous." Dante chuckled, tension easing from his shoulders. "Fair enough, Valkyrie."

  Feeling his cock swell and harden under her touch, Sigrun shifted, guiding the shaft to her entrance. She lowered herself to take him in, her body adjusting to the familiar intrusion. Her hips rolled as she began the well-practiced steady grind, muscles flexing, her flesh clenching his.

  "Ahh—use my pussy—you like my pussy?—Ahh—" She perched atop Dante, her thighs clamping around his wide hips as she rode him with a purposeful grinding rhythm. Her body arched, the leather harness digging into her skin with each sway, trapping the heat building beneath her. The bed groaned under their weight, a low creak punctuating her every move. Her hips circled, slow at first, then picking up pace, dragging out a guttural moan from Dante.

  “Damn, Sigrun—so tight in there—” he breathed, his massive hands abandoning her hips to roam upward. They found her breasts, kneading the soft, heavy flesh with hunger.

  She glanced at her Nucleus Watch: [Aether spent for Vaginal Lubrication. Recommend water intake soon]

  Sigrun felt Dante’s thick fingers fumble at the buckles of her leather harness. The straps loosened, and with a rough tug, he yanked the Valkyrie's Chains free from her torso, tossing it to the side. It landed with a clatter near the weapon rack, the chains jingling against the floor.

  [- Unequipped: Valkyrie's Chains, leather chest harness, Earth Courtesan variant]

  “Oh, Dante, you beast,” she purred, her voice dripping with exaggerated lust, followed by a deliberate moan. She arched her back, pressing her bare breasts against his chest, her hips grinding harder as she rode him.

  "I always am." He chuckled, his breath getting heavy.

  “You’re so—ahh—strong, tearing me out of that—like it’s nothing.” Her moans grew loud, shameless and raw, echoing off the sparse walls of her apartment.

  "Fuck—you're so tight in there—" His fingers pinched and tugged at her nipples through the thin gaps in the harness, sending sharp jolts of sensation racing down her spine.

  "Mmm—fuck me harder, my big sweet." Sigrun tossed her head back, letting out a throaty moan, more performance than pleasure, though her body responded all the same, getting wet, drips of sweat tracing down the canvas of her neck, chest and belly.

  "Fuuuck—! Your body—such a finely tuned machine—" Dante’s grip tightened on her waist, his grunts deepening with her words.

  A machine. Her heart ached at that remark. But why should she care? This was a transaction, plain and simple. She needed only getting it over with.

  "Ahh, just like that—use my pussy—" Sigrun kept the rhythm, her thighs flexing with each roll of her hips, her hair swaying. Her sapphire eyes remained sharp, detached, watching the ceiling while her body played the part he paid for.

  Her vagina gripped his penis tight, the small but rigid length of him filling her in a way that felt invasive yet controlled. Each upward thrust sent a ripple of friction through her. She shifted her angle, leaning forward to brace her hands on his broad shoulders, her nails digging into his skin just enough to leave faint marks. The new position let her grind harder, her clit brushing against his pelvic bone with every roll.

  Dante’s breathing grew ragged, his palms now slick with sweat as they slid over her curves, tracing the dip of her waist before gripping her ass to pull her down harder. “Keep going,” he grunted, eyes half-lidded, lost in the rhythm of her body.

  "Hmmm—my pussy—so very very tight—" Sigrun obliged, altering her pace between short, sharp grinds and slow, teasing circles. She leaned further down and nipped at his collarbone, a fleeting bite to make him gasp. Her walls clenched tighter as she adjusted.

  Sigrun felt Dante’s grip on her hips tighten, his thick fingers digging into her arse as his body tensed beneath her. A low, guttural groan rumbled, and then the hot rush flooded her depths—his release spilling deep inside, warm, wet, heavy, coating her inner walls. The scent hit her next, musky, raw tang mixing with the lily aroma of her sweat. Semen dribbled out from her womanhood with each slowing roll of her hips, slick and sticky, smearing against her thighs and his pelvis, damp heat pooling between them.

  “Oh, Dante, yesss—fill me up, you beast! Fuuuuuuck—” leaning back from him, she made a throaty wail, dragging out the words with exaggerated lust.

  All Dante could manage was a set of orgasmic moans.

  “Ahh, so much—I’m dripping for you!” She tossed her head back once more, her golden waves swaying, keeping just long enough to sell the act. Her sapphire eyes stayed cold, finally meeting his, her womanhood clenching one last time to wring out every drop.

  [Masculine Aether Received via internal ejaculation: 3.93 mL]

  [Aether Exchange as receiver - AP regeneration rate +20% for 2 hours]

  [Post-coital Exhaustion - Movement Speed -15% for 2 hours]

  [Transactional Sexual Intercourse concluded. Ejaculation achieved. Low Emotional Investment]

  Glancing at her left wrist, Sigrun's eyes caught the holographic notification above her watch and smirked. Transactional sex. As if she didn't already know. But she'd never been doing this for personal growth. Money was all that mattered, and her balance had just cleared another rent payment.

  And with how much of her Aether still left, this had been an easy, quick fuck for bucks.

  She lifted herself off Dante's large form, remnants of his juice dripping out of her depths, her skin slick with sweat, breath slowing to normal. The quick-wash unit had finally gone silent above them. Small mercies.

  "Hey." Dante's voice cut through the post-coital quiet, softer now than his usual baritone. "I've been thinking."

  Sigrun reached for the sanitizing wipes she kept in the bedside drawer, her movements agile as she rubbed her own breasts with it. "Dangerous habit."

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  "Serious, now." He propped himself up on one elbow, making the bed creak. "We've known each other for about a year. You've always talked about wanting financial security. So how about...we make this permanent? You and me. Start a family together."

  Her hand paused mid-wipe. "You mean marriage."

  "Yes." His expression was earnest in a way that would have been touching if she was in the mood of being touched. "I've always thought you'd look incredible as my wife. And my executive secretary."

  "Wow. I…" She hesitated. Was there more?

  "My company's expanding into the Jovian markets, and I need someone smarter than an AI to manage my schedule. Someone I can trust." He reached out, his thick fingers brushing her thigh. "No more being a Leased Lily. No more dangerous bounty work. Just...security. Financial freedom. Everything you've been working hard for."

  Sigrun's mind reeled.

  Financial freedom. The words echoed like a prayer she'd long since stopped believing in. Dante Pompeo wasn't just 'another wealthy man in the Seven Realms'. He was corporate dynasty wealthy. A Chamber Delegate in the Terra Alliance that'd issued her Psi Lynx certificate. He had the kind of money that could buy a real apartment instead of this closet, could pay for the medical treatments that might restore her failing memory, could perhaps buy her that ticket back to Europa, could finally let her stop ruining herself.

  "I—" She heard herself speaking before she'd fully processed the offer. "That's... Dante, that's incredibly generous!"

  "I'm a generous man when it comes to things I value." His smile broadened. "So what do you say? Think you could handle being Mrs. Pompeo?"

  The excitement hit her like Indra-Sprite on an Aether-drained stomach. Her usual control slipped as imaginations tumbled through her fragmenting mind. No more clients. No more hunting Radi-Mons. No more waking up wondering which memories she'd lost overnight.

  "Yes!" The word burst out. "Thousand Gods, yes. I mean, you're—you've always been so good to me! Remember that time you told me about your daughter? How she's studying at that university on Venus? Or was it—wait, no, your son. The one who's working in the mining colonies on Mercury, right? You said he was…"

  Dante's expression changed as Sigrun watched with growing horror. The warmth in his eyes cooled to something calculating. The slight smile faded. His hand withdrew from her thigh.

  "I don't have children, Sigrun." His voice remained level, but she could hear the disappointment beneath it. "I told you that the first time we met. I've mentioned it several times since, actually. My first wife couldn't conceive, and we never pursued alternatives. The divorce was three years ago."

  It felt like the floor was dropping out from under her.

  "I…no, that's not…uh…" She scrambled mentally, trying to remember, trying to find the memories that should be there. "You definitely told me about…someone at a university? Maybe it was your nephew?"

  "I don't have any nephews." Dante sat up fully now, reaching for his clothes. "I'm an only child. We've discussed this too, Sigrun."

  "But I…" Her voice sounded small even to her own ears. "I'm sorry, I must have confused you with another client. It's been such a long week…"

  "Another client." Dante repeated the words. He pulled on his shirt, fingers working the buttons. Hastily. Angrily. "Right. Of course."

  Where there had been lust in his eyes—desire, even approval—there was now only doubt. And beneath that, something worse: pity.

  "Dante?" She reached for his arm, but he was already standing, tucking his shirt into his trousers.

  "I was thinking maybe you were different. That underneath all this—" He gestured vaguely at her leather harness, at the bed, at the room. "—there was someone real. Someone I could build something with." He grabbed his suit jacket. "But you can't even remember the most basic facts about my life, can you? After a year of these appointments."

  "I have a condition." The words came out desperate, raw. "It's medical. My memory isn't—Doc Nikki said—"

  "Your memory works fine when it comes to payment schedules and 'transaction protocols'." Dante shrugged into his jacket, smoothing the lapels. "Funny how that works."

  He collected his own Nucleus Watch from the bedside table, the device chiming as it resynced with his biometrics. When he looked at her again, his expression was distant and professional.

  "But keep the money, my dear. You earned it the usual way." He moved toward the door, pausing only to slip back into his shoes. "I'll find someone else to fill my executive secretary position. Someone who might actually remember my name between appointments."

  The door opened. Closed. The lock engaged with a soft click.

  Sigrun sat on her bed, naked except for the Moondust Pendant, staring at the closed door. Her hands were shaking—not from fear, from fury at herself.

  That had been it. The escape hatch. Marriage to Dante would have solved everything: the rent, the illegal work, the constant financial tightrope. She could have kept every dollar of the Europa fund untouched while living as Mrs. Pompeo, respectable and safe. Maybe even used his corporate resources to get back to Europa properly equipped.

  And she'd blown it because she couldn't remember if he had a son or a daughter or neither.

  Somewhere in Dragon District, Bounty Board #7 was probably cycling through new postings.

  She looked at her Nucleus Watch:

  [Savings Account Balance: $850,500 AD]

  [PRIMAL Stats: P:7, R:5, I:1, M:2, A:3, L:6]

  $852,600 to go. Every dollar earned the hard way now. No shortcuts. No rescue.

  But that I:1 stared back at her. Intellect: 1. The lowest possible rating for a human.

  "Huh." Sigrun stood, retrieving her black laced underwear from the desk. "So what."

  She moved to collect Dante's spent fluids leaking down her thighs with the sanitizing wipes, cleaning herself methodically. The Moondust Pendant swung against her chest as she worked.

  The bathroom door opened with a soft hiss. Sigrun stepped into it. Small but well-maintained, the unit was the very image of premium rent. The water pressure was reliable, and hot water came without sputtering. On Mars, that counted as luxury.

  And even though hot water cost extra after 10 PM, she'd earned enough tonight to splurge. She twisted the dial all the way up.

  The spray washed away sweat, Dante's cologne, the lily scent from Hamr's pheromone modifier. Steam filled the tiny space as she worked shampoo through her hair, her fingers massaging her scalp.

  "Can't remember client details anymore. So what." She rinsed, watching soap suds spiral down the drain, her voice echoing off the marble walls. "Still closed the deal. Still got paid. Still lived another day on this stupid rock."

  The water felt good against her tired muscles. She'd been up since 0700 Mars Standard, run a full combat patrol in the Karma Moor, got some Radi-Mon bounties done, visited Doctor Nikki and serviced a premium client before bed.

  She reached for the body wash, working it over her arms, her chest, her stomach. The scent was plain. No point in smelling like anything when she'd just put on combat gear tomorrow and go hunt Radi-Mons again.

  The hot water began to cool. She rinsed quickly, efficiently.

  "I've got twenty-eight thousand Atomic Dollars. That's more than most people on Mars have saved. I've got weapons, gear, and a Psi Lynx certification that opens doors. I've got bounties lined up through next week. No, wait…a big one tomorrow. That one about the High-Grade Zephyrium."

  She shut off the water, reaching for the thin towel hanging on the rack. It was worn but clean.

  Sigrun dried herself off, running the towel through her hair before touching Hamr again. The clip hummed as it cycled her hair back to its natural length, falling in damp waves past her shoulders.

  [+ Engaged: Hamr, Programmable Hair Clip, Nordling variant. Configuration: 'Freyja' → 'Civilian']

  She emerged from the bathroom, moving to her dresser to pull out her sleep clothes: plain grey tank top and shorts, nothing special. The leather harness and wrist guards went back in their drawer. The Moondust Pendant stayed on. She preferred to keep it on.

  Her Nucleus Watch chimed softly as she took it off to connect to the charger next to her laptop:

  [Reminder: Bounty from Board #7- Dragon District:

  RETRIEVAL CONTRACT - URGENT

  Target: High-Grade Zephyrium Cache (1 container, designation U6-M9)

  Location: Red Rabbit Warren - Transport Sublevel 3

  Entry Points: Karma Moor (outside city limits)

  Reward: $50,000 AD

  ]

  [Reminder: Weapon maintenance - Skuld requires cleaning]

  [Reminder: Rent due in 6 days - $2,200 AD]

  Sigrun glanced at the notifications as she set the alarm clock, then at her weapons hanging above the desk. Járn, Skuld and Baldr near them. Reliable. Hers.

  [Alarm set: 0800, February 18, 2295]

  She retrieved the half-empty bottle of purified Indra-Sprite from her bedside table and took a long pull. The sweet liquid was what she needed after tonight's ordeal. The familiar tingle spread through her body.

  Tomorrow she'd go get that bounty. Maybe she'd see that Imperial engineer again—the one with the adorable Radi-Mon baby. Maybe not. Either way, there would be work.

  She climbed into bed, pulling the thermal-weave blanket over herself. The mattress was firm—she'd bought it specifically to avoid back pain after combat. The pillow was standard but clean. Everything in this apartment was maintained, organized, hers.

  Paid for with her own sweat and blood. And tonight, with something that should have been her ticket out.

  She closed her eyes, letting exhaustion pull her toward sleep.

  "…find someone else to remember your life story, Dante. I've got my own problems…"

  Like $852,600 more problems. Like a shuttle ticket everyone said was suicide. Like a promise to a ghost who probably died eleven years ago.

  She pushed the thoughts away. Tomorrow. The HGZ bounty. Fifty thousand Atomic Dollars. That's what mattered.

  The city hummed outside her window: neon signs flickering, autocabs whirring past, the distant rumble of the recycling plant processing the day's fusion waste. Xing Hong never slept.

  And tomorrow, Sigrun Fjeld would wake up and do what she'd done for eleven years:

  Survive.