Breathing Vapor

by Cynthia Sax

  He expected her to fabricate an answer. She could tell the truth and he wouldn’t believe her. “When I was young.” Before her mom was killed. “I would study my father’s cyborgs, your predecessors, imitating their blank expressions, striving for that level of emotionlessness.” She gave him a truth that would hurt no other being if it were revealed. “They were his creations and I thought if I looked like them, he’d love me.”

  Vapor’s gaze dropped to her breasts, lower to her hips, and then returned to her face. “You don’t look like a cyborg.”

  She didn’t act like one either. She was her mom’s daughter, caring too much, risking even more. “I wasn’t successful and he never grew to love me.” She was a distraction from her father’s work.

  Vapor looked at Mira for one, two heartbeats, pausing in his exploration of her form, his brown hair mussed and his face unreadable.

  “I asked for the truth.” He shook his head. “And you tell me a story about your father loving his cyborgs.” He raised his daggers. “I should cut you for that, teach you a lesson.”

  Mira wasn’t afraid of him. Vapor was a killer but he wasn’t cruel. “I should scream, let the guards capture your rebellious ass.”

  “You won’t.” He leaned forward, his nose close to her right breast and he inhaled. “That’s not accidental spittle. The scent is too intense for that. You allowed the cyborg to suck on your breast, to mark you.” His eyes flashed with fury.

  “I didn’t allow anything.”

  “You’re mine.” Vapor sliced the cloth. “No other male marks you.”

  Her fabric wrap fell to her waist, exposing her curves. “What are you doing?” She clutched the edges, trying to cover herself.

  “Stay still.” He pulled her hands away from her body. “I have to remove his scent from you.” The cyborg crouched until his face was at breast level. “It’s making my processors malfunction.”

  How did he plan to remove the scent? Alarm swelled in her, mixed with sexual excitement. “I’ll enter the cleansing chamber later.”

  “Later isn’t soon enough.” He palmed his daggers and cupped her breasts, his grip thrillingly secure, his fingers firm. Mira bit back a moan. “I’ll hunt him down and hurt him if I don’t do this.” He pinched her nipples.

  The pain was exquisite. “He’s not a threat to you. He’s a baby.” Her voice was strained.

  “He?” Vapor gazed up at her.

  Shit. She’d made a mistake. “It.”

  “You permitted this baby, as you call him, to put his mouth on you.” He licked her breast. A million points of pleasure exploded over her skin. “That indicates a bond between the two of you. Why did you sell him?”

  “Credits.” She wiggled, the bliss lasting. “I’m tingling.”

  “That’s my nanocybotics.” Vapor laved her with the flat of his tongue, the sensation shooting straight to her pussy.

  A cyborg’s nanocybotics sped his healing and allowed his mechanics to grow in concert with his organic side. She didn’t realize they could be transferred, could feel so damn good.

  “You lie.” His lips vibrated against her form. “You don’t need the credits. Tell me the truth. Why did you sell him?” He flicked her right nipple with his tongue.

  “Credits,” she called out, clinging to that lie and to her sanity.

  “Hush, stubborn female. Your father’s males will hear you.” Vapor nipped at her skin and she jerked. “When they arrive to save you, they’ll see a cyborg sucking on your breast.” He covered her flesh with his lips and did exactly that, the tug and pull making her writhe.

  Fuck. She wanted, needed more, but she had to stay silent. Others viewed cyborgs as machines. If they witnessed her desire for Vapor, they’d think she was depraved, perverted, out-of-control.

  That description would be accurate. His clasp on her breast was intense, the bliss scorching her brain.

  “Vapor.” She threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him to her. “Please. Don’t give me pleasure. I don’t deserve it.” She’d failed her mom, others, caused too much pain, too many deaths.

  “You’ll take all of the pleasure I allot to you.” He nuzzled against her curves, his eyes black with desire. “You have no choice. I’m in control.”

  “No,” she protested, knowing that was the truth. Her body was his to command.

  “Yes.” Vapor nibbled on her and she trembled. “Why did you sell him? You’re too far gone to lie to me, human.” He drew her breast into his mouth and she moaned, her pussy pulsating to the rhythm of his lips.

  She was close, so—

  He released her and she swallowed her scream of frustration. His eyes glimmered. The damn cyborg knew what he was doing to her. “Tell me the truth and I’ll allow you to muffle your cries.”

  She needed that, badly, but she wouldn’t risk K017282’s life. “Credits.”

  “Liar.” Vapor trailed his tongue to her neglected breast, coating her with his nanocybotics, the bubbling building. “Your stubbornness will get us both decommissioned.”

  That wouldn’t happen because she’d be quiet. Mira pressed her lips together. She could do this.

  He sucked and released, sucked and released, staring up at her with those dark fuck-me eyes, working her with his hot mouth and talented fingers, his daggers pressing against her skin.

  Whimpers escaped her lips. Her body shook.

  Vapor continued to feast upon her passion. He ravished her ruthlessly until she could no longer see straight and tears ran down her cheeks. Her nipples ached. Her pussy convulsed, her response verging on the edge of pain.

  She’d come hard, and when she did, she’d scream. Guards would rush to her side. They’d see Vapor. Her father would decommission him. Her cyborg would die.

  Because she wouldn’t share the truth, a truth she suspected Vapor already knew.

  Fuck. She’d tell him.

  “Sold him…because he was about…to be decommissioned,” she panted.

  Vapor stopped sucking. His nanocybotics continued to fizz and pop over her skin. “You wanted to save a cyborg?” He didn’t believe her.

  “I told you the truth.” She needed release. Desperately. “Please, Vapor. Give me something to muffle my screams.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “That’s twice that you’ve called me Vapor.”

  “K0001.” Shit. She couldn’t remember the rest of his model number. That’s how seared her brain was. Mira gazed at his cheek. “K000156,” she read.

  “You don’t see us as machines.” He licked her breast.

  Her eyelashes fluttered. “It doesn’t matter how I see you. Please, K000000156.”

  His lips twitched. “You’ve added too many zeroes, female.” He presented the hilt of a dagger to her. Light reflected off its sharp blade. “Chomp down on this.”

  She complied, grateful for anything to muffle the noise. The leather smelled like him, metal and male. She breathed deeply.

  Vapor did also, inhaling her breast, sucking, sucking, sucking. A keening cry rose from her throat. Her back arched.

  He covered his teeth with his lips and bit hard. The pinch gave her the pain she deserved. She screamed, the sound dampened by the hilt of the dagger.

  Her world spun, color and sound swirling around her. She clutched his shoulders, digging her fingertips into his body armor, as waves of ecstasy cascaded over her.

  They gradually eased but the ache on her breast continued. She gazed downward. Red encircled her nipple. The bastard had broken skin.

  Vapor straightened. “Let go.” He held out his palm.

  Mira released his dagger and it fell into his hand. “You bit me.” She grabbed the edge of her garment, preparing to cover her nudity.

  He sheathed his daggers and stopped her, his movements smooth, efficient, and cyborg fast. “I marked you.” He looked at her breast. “With my nanocybotics, my lips, and my teeth.” His eyes blazed with satisfaction.

  He was a sick being and she wasn’t much better. Part of her liked
that he’d marked her, that he’d made her his.

  “Your life is now mine, to do with as I please.” Vapor backed away from her and she fought the urge to follow him. “Remember that the next time you think about lying to me.”

  Her truth was much more dangerous than her lies. “You’re a bastard.”

  “All cyborgs are bastards, female. We’re conceived in manufacturing vats, never knowing our parents.” His laughter was low, husky and completely unexpected, staying with her long after he’d disappeared into the darkness.

  She must have imagined that sound. Her cyborg didn’t laugh.

  Her cyborg?

  Shit. Mira hurried toward her domicile. He was her father’s cyborg, not hers, and he’d be deployed in two, three, maybe four planet rotations. She’d never see him again.

  She shouldn’t want to see him. He’d pried not one, but two truths from her. He’d sucked her breasts, given her release, marked her as his, biting her.

  The pain had dissipated. The wound was already starting to heal. She placed her palm on the access panel, the door unlocked and she slipped into the structure.

  Her fast recovery must be due to his nanocybotics. They continued to bubble over her skin, staying with her, making her vulnerable to her emotions, heightening her desire for the warrior.

  Vapor was dangerous in every way a male could be. Mira shouldn’t choose him to accompany her on her next mission.

  Unfortunately, he was the best.

  She needed him.

  Chapter Three

  As the sun rose, so did Vapor’s anger, his fury directed at himself and at her. He gazed upward at the viewing area. Mira sat on a stone bench, watching the final stage training exercises. His opponent was learning his strengths and his weaknesses.

  Last planet rotation, she had made him lose control. He’d smelled another cyborg’s scent on her skin and his processors had shut down. Instinct took over, the savage, primal need to mark and claim his female.

  The taste of her lingered in his mouth.

  He shouldn’t feel this way. She was his enemy. He could be assigned the task of killing her. And she was a formidable foe, powerful in a fully feminine way and unrestrained by ethics.

  Lies dripped from her lips. She twisted every situation to give her the advantage. Even while in the depths of desire, she guarded her words, telling him nothing.

  He had to keep his processors online while he was near her.

  She said she sold the cyborg because he was about to be decommissioned, he transmitted to Ace and Thrasher. She’d implied, with her soft voice and sad eyes, that she had wanted to save the cyborg, the baby, as she called K017282.

  We know that’s why she sold him. Ace followed his gaze. Her father wouldn’t allow her to sell a viable cyborg.

  You’re too cynical, Ass. Thrasher joined their semi-private conversation, bumping his shoulder against Ace’s. She could have been saving one of our brethren.

  My name is Ace. The cyborg didn’t find his nickname amusing and no one other than Thrasher dared to use it. And if saving the cyborg had been her intention, she would have said that, gaining our sympathy.

  Sympathy from a machine? Thrasher snorted.

  She views us as beings, as males, not machines. When she first called him Vapor, her voice husky with passion, he almost came in his body armor.

  How she views us changes nothing. Ace dismissed that revelation. Humans inflict unspeakable cruelties on other humanoids every planet rotation.

  That was true. Humans were evil and she was human. Vapor couldn’t ever forget that.

  I smell you on her. If your logic is compromised--—

  It’s not. No other cyborg would be assigned to Mira. She was his. If she’s the being we choose to kill, I’ll do what has to be done.

  His first loyalty was to his fellow cyborgs. Vapor looked up at Mira. His scent on her soft pale skin didn’t change that.

  Raw, Grin and Strive exited the ring, their near naked forms covered with blood. Some of the gore covering Strive and Grin was their own. The humanoids had injured them.

  Vapor exchanged a glance with Ace and Thrasher, knowing without transmitting what the other cyborgs were processing. Strive and Grin were good warriors but that wasn’t enough. Only great warriors were deployed to the front lines.

  Their friends would be decommissioned.

  First, they’d be humiliated. It wasn’t coincidence that a fight featuring the three least skilled cyborgs in their batch preceded a fight featuring the three best. Hun wished Strive and Grin to see firsthand how unskilled they were.

  Humans were cruel. Vapor glowered at Mira.

  “K000156, K000157 and K000158, prepare for battle,” Hun yelled. The spineless humanoid male wore full battle armor, a long gun in his hands.

  More primitive weapons had been chosen for the cyborgs’ training this planet rotation. Vapor, Ace and Thrasher clasped two swords each and entered the red dirt ring.

  Vapor heard the hitch in Mira’s breath as he strode into the sunlight. He smelled her musk, her arousal meshing with his. His cock strained against the confines of his skimpy ass covering.

  Ace would see his arousal, doubt his abilities and his loyalty even more. Vapor swung his swords, rotating his wrists faster and faster, the blades in his hands blurring.

  The criminals he’d soon fight, the scum of the universe that the Humanoid Alliance had decided would die, shifted in their pens, their grasps on their weapons tightening.

  Why are you scaring them? Thrasher asked.

  Vapor grunted through the transmission lines. His warning wasn’t for the criminals. It was for her.

  He was dangerous, his actions relayed. She should stay away from him.

  He slowly pivoted on his booted heels, slicing the air with his weapons. The exercise warmed his muscles and centered his thoughts.

  She was one more target, nothing more.

  He didn’t care for her. At all.

  You’re in a mood. His friend’s face remained blank, as the humans expected. Any emotional reaction was seen as a malfunction, was a reason for decommissioning, for death. Save at least two humanoids for us.

  You’ll maintain your kill rates. Vapor wouldn’t put them in jeopardy. He wasn’t a heartless human. He glanced at Mira.

  She stared at him. He flexed his muscles, making the tanned skin over his abdomen ripple. A wave of musk filled his nostrils, warm and tantalizingly feminine. He wanted to lick her, all over, as he’d licked her breasts, drawing her nipples into his mouth, the taste of her coating his tongue.

  “Let the battle begin,” Hun boomed, refocusing Vapor’s thoughts.

  The pen opened and six humanoids rushed out of the enclosure. They must have thought attacking quickly would give them an advantage.

  But quick was relative and Vapor was a cyborg. He met them halfway across the field, decapitating the first huge male before they were aware he’d arrived.

  He spun, gutted the six-armed Palavian to his right, continued the turn and sliced through the hairy blue Ungarian on his left. Blood sprayed over his bare chest, coated his forearms.

  Got one, Thrasher crowed as a human dropped to the ground before him.

  Frag. Ace ran toward the fifth warrior.

  You’re too slow, friend. Vapor reached their opponent first. With one strike of his sword, he cut the red-scaled humanoid down, splitting him in two from his skull to his ass.

  Mira sucked in her breath. Vapor glanced over his shoulder. She gazed at him, her eyes wide, her hands pressed together.

  It was almost as though she cared what happened in the ring, as though she cared about him.

  He pushed that thought aside and concentrated on the second wave of prisoners, killing them with a speed that surprised even him. Ace managed to steal three deaths from him. Thrasher took an additional one.

  Two males refused to fight, cowering by the pen. Urine dampened the ground around them, the stench of their fear irritating Vapor’s refined senses.
>
  Resigned to playing executioner, a role he detested, he lifted his swords.

  “Don’t,” Mira whispered.

  He must have misheard her. She was the Designer’s daughter. She knew the males were convicts, beings guilty of horrible crimes, unworthy of living.

  Vapor turned and looked up at her. Her beautiful face was as cold and as expressionless as it normally was. Her lips were motionless.

  Had she pleaded for him to stop?

  It no longer mattered. He hadn’t the heart to kill the defenseless humanoids.

  There was no challenge in it, no honor.

  Finish them, he told Ace and Thrasher, his gaze not moving from Mira’s. The prisoners had to die. Not killing them would result in death for his friends, for himself, and wouldn’t spare the humanoids. Other cyborgs would complete the task they’d been assigned.

  She’d know that, which made her request even more unlikely. He lifted his chin higher, silently asking for clarification.

  She didn’t give any, gazing back at him blankly.

  The humanoids’ cries faded. His friends stood beside him, their breaths ragged, their bodies and blades stained crimson.

  “Cyborgs.” Hun patted his gun. “Return to--”

  “Wait.” Mira’s voice rang through the space.

  The trainer frowned. “I’m responsible for the exercises. Unless you have authorization from your father, interference isn’t permitted.”

  “You’re in no position to talk about what is and isn’t permitted, soldier.” She descended the viewing area and entered the fighting ring, her daintily clad feet traipsing upon the blood-soiled ground.

  A white bolt of fabric was wrapped around her generous form, barely containing her curves. Vapor’s scent clung to her skin.

  “I know about all of your activities.” She spoke like a commander, her voice strong.

  Hun’s scarred face paled. He was a harsh male well known for his cruelty. Whatever information she had on him must have been especially heinous. “If your father hears of this—”

  “He’d express his approval.” Mira sniffed haughtily. “My actions are always for the benefit of the Humanoid Alliance.” This outright lie was delivered with condescension.