by Cynthia Sax
“My nipples, Thrasher. I need your lips, your hands on them.” She told him exactly what she wanted, reveling in her fantasy, in the freedom to be herself.
With real males, she tempered her need to give orders. Few males wanted to fuck a commander, a take-charge female. She normally suppressed her natural tendencies and gave them the sex partner they yearned for.
With her dream males, she allowed her true personality to shine. Her commands weren’t a turnoff for them. The orders stimulated the males, the bulges in their body armor growing more pronounced.
Thrasher fastened his lips around her right nipple and rubbed a palm over her left, his skin rough. She moaned into the other male’s mouth. The dual assault was exquisite.
But it could be even better.
“You.” She met the brown-eyed male’s gaze.
“Ace.” He supplied his name. It was as bizarre as his friend’s.
“You can call him ass.” Thrasher grinned at him, looking adorably naughty. “I do.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Ace rolled his eyes. He was the more serious of the two. “I don’t.”
“Listen to me, males.” This was her fantasy and she wanted action, not talking. “Thrasher, suck on my breast. Ace, play with my pussy.”
“Yes, our female.” They replied in unison.
“Stop with the ‘our female’ business.” Carys didn’t understand why her dream males would refer to her by that possessive term. She prided herself on her independence, had never relied on any being, not even Pimmy’s father. “I’m a being, not a possession. You don’t own me.”
Ace and Thrasher exchanged glances, appearing perplexed. There was a stretch of awkward silence. Then Thrasher started to laugh.
“Suck on my breast.” She slapped his body armor-covered chest, relishing how firm, how hard he was. “I gave you an order, warrior.”
“Yes, Commander.” Thrasher bent his head and sucked her sensitive nipple into his smiling mouth.
Sweet space. Her eyelashes fluttered. The bubbling resembled hundreds of lips plucking at her skin, seducing her, adoring her, wanting her.
Ace glided one of his palms along her rounded stomach, over her hairless mons. His fingertips dipped into her wetness and she moaned.
“I have you, Commander.” He kissed her deeply while he stroked her feminine folds, teased her clit with his thumb.
“Yes,” she murmured into his mouth. The male knew how to work a pussy. And his companion was no slouch at sucking breasts. Carys clasped Ace’s shoulder with one hand, Thrasher’s shoulder with the other, holding onto both of them.
Ace pushed one, then two, then three fingers into her pussy, stretching her open, filling her. She pumped her hips, fucking his hand. Sweat dripped between her breasts. Her body hummed.
She needed this erotic dream. She hadn’t realized how much until now.
Desire wrapped around her, pushing the air from her lungs. She panted, undulating, moving against Ace’s palm, into Thrasher’s mouth, increasing the pressure and relenting.
Ace drove his fingers into her. Thrasher nibbled on and tweaked her nipples.
Her wanting became unbearable, an ache screaming to be appeased. She wiggled her ass, silenced by Ace’s lips, yet needing more.
Words weren’t required. They were her dream males. They realized what she required and they gave it to her.
Thrasher bit her nipple and Ace smacked the heel of his hand against her clit, the twin twinges of pain shattering her renowned control.
Carys broke, screaming her fulfillment down Ace’s throat, abandoning all restraint, losing herself in the experience. Her pussy clenched around his fingers. Lights flashed and dimmed, flashed and dimmed. Pleasure radiated from her core.
She twisted, trembled, collapsed. The tension in her shoulders and neck dissipated. Her arms fell to her sides, her limbs limp, useless.
Thrasher laved her breast with his tongue, easing the sting of his bite. Fizzing covered her and the redness eased. The wound healed instantly, as often happened in dreams.
Ace withdrew his fingers. His skin glistened with wetness. He sucked on one finger, taking it into his mouth up to the knuckle.
“Mmm…” His eyelids lowered, the expression on his handsome face sublime. “Try this.”
He held his hand out to Thrasher.
Thrasher slid his lips along two of his friend’s fingers. Their gazes met and Carys quivered, the heat in their eyes melting her insides. They were more than friends, wanted each other as they wanted her.
Would they strip their body armor off and fuck as she watched? Another female might grow jealous, might resent being excluded. Not Carys. The thought of her two males enjoying each other turned her on.
“I love this fantasy.” Her voice was drowsy. She struggled to keep her eyes open.
Even in her dreams, she was exhausted, bone weary.
“Rest, little female.” Ace kissed her forehead, the act tender, sweet, loving, another thing she didn’t realize until now that she needed.
Thrasher did the same. “We have a mission to complete, but we’ll be back for you soon.”
They would return. This dream had been so good; she was certain she’d have it again. “Will you be naked next time?”
She’d like to see all of them. Carys suspected their bodies would be as perfect as their faces.
Thrasher chuckled, his mirth rolling over her, shaking the sleeping support.
Ace smiled. Gold specks glittered in his dark eyes, his amusement more restrained. “We’ll be naked. We vow.”
“I’m holding you to that vow.” She looked at Ace and then at Thrasher, committing their features, their unique personalities to memory, wanting to experience the same characters during the next rest cycle encounter. “I don’t want any other males to visit me.”
Their eyes hardened. “No other males would dare.” Their tones rang with a primitive possessiveness she normally found appalling.
In this moment, she found it fitting. She was sated and satisfied with her two warriors and didn’t want another being to touch her.
“No other males will visit me. I promise.” She yawned, not bothering to cover her mouth, knowing the males she’d created in her mind wouldn’t be offended.
“Sleep.” Thrasher covered her with the concealing cloth. Ace brushed a strand of her hair away from her face.
Carys gazed at them one more time before closing her eyes.
Darkness swept over her, taking her as her warriors had, with no hesitation.
Chapter Two
One hundred and fifty-two planet rotations had passed and they hadn’t returned for their Commander. Ace’s lips flattened.
Their female must believe they were dishonorable warriors.
He marched through the cyborg council multi-level structure. Thrasher bumped against his shoulders, the regular contact calming him.
If the council doesn’t grant our request this time. Thrasher communicated through their private transmission line. I’m retrieving her without their permission.
Ace agreed with him. They had waited long enough. That will put her safety at risk. They’ll send warriors after us.
Mayhem has evaded capture for many planet rotations. Thrasher wasn’t dissuaded. He’s one warrior. We’re two.
Mayhem and his female had refused to return to the cyborg Homeland as all freed cyborgs had been ordered to do. Ace doubted their Carys would acknowledge that order either.
She was what the humans called a badass. He lifted his chin proudly. She gave commands. She didn’t follow them.
The Homeland would hold little appeal for their human female. With more and more cyborgs escaping the Humanoid Alliance’s control, the planet was becoming crowded. Structures were thousands of levels high. Ships filled the skies.
There were talks of terraforming more planets in the sector but no action had been taken. The priority was freeing their brethren.
Ace’s priority was their female’s happiness. If
she chose to settle elsewhere, he would support that decision, celebrate it. He was conscious of his special bond with Thrasher, a bond many warriors didn’t understand, and would rather not live in close quarters with other males.
Space was preferable and, ideally, surroundings they could more easily control. He’d enjoyed the privacy they’d experienced on their female’s battle station. They were better able to protect their female there.
Doors opened. Ace and Thrasher strode into the cyborg council’s chambers. One cyborg from every model was represented, seated behind a long rectangle horizontal support.
Death and his female are here. Thrasher observed. That’s a good sign.
The J Model stood to the side with his arms crossed, partially shielding the little human medic. She peeked around his big form, her eyes reflecting scientific curiosity.
Her lips moved. She mumbled under her breath about genetic anomalies and cyborg DNA.
Ace positioned himself in front of the cyborg council. Thrasher claimed the spot beside him. They waited for them to speak.
“Warriors.” Power, an E Model, led the council. “The information in this chamber is not to be transmitted, understand?”
It’s another fraggin’ top secret mission, Thrasher grumbled. My balls are going to explode.
Ace felt the same way. The need to claim their female almost overwhelmed his reason. Shut up and agree. That was their only choice.
“We understand,” they said in unison.
Power dipped his head in acknowledgment. “It is becoming more and more difficult to suppress the truth—that we cyborgs have free will.”
Meaning they can’t control us once we escape. Thrasher’s tone was dry.
“The time has come to liberate all of our brethren.”
The other council members nodded, their eyes gleaming with excitement.
“We have the ability to accomplish this with no outside assistance,” Power continued. “However, since many of us will soon have human or humanoid females.” He glanced at Death’s female and narrowed his eyes. “Once we’ve perfected the matching technology.”
“The matching technology has been perfected,’ she muttered. “Just because we haven’t found a female for you doesn’t mean it’s faulty.”
“It’s logical to use our liberation…” Power ignored her, “…as a means to build ties with our females’ kind.”
Ace suspected not every council member agreed with that decision. Vengeance, the primitive C model representative, glared at Power.
“We have learned that one of you might be genetically matched with a high ranking human commander in the Rebel forces.” Power met Ace’s gaze and then Thrasher’s. “There’s an error in the research, so we can’t determine which warrior might be her male. If one of you does have that honor. That is uncertain also.”
“It isn’t uncertain.” Death’s female stepped forward, her voice raising. “There’s no error in my research and there’s no ‘might be’. Both of them are matched with the commander and with each other. Same sex--”
Death covered her mouth with one of his hands, stopping that sure-to-be-damning statement. She wiggled, struggling. He didn’t free her.
Because he knew firsthand how the cyborg council treated defective warriors.
Death had rebelled against the cyborg council to claim his female, the female currently squirming in his arms, and they had almost executed him for that insurrection. The swords had been drawn. If it hadn’t been for his female’s knowledge of genetics, Death would have died.
The Humanoid Alliance, their manufacturers, considered the bonding of a warrior with another warrior to be as serious a malfunction as a rebellious nature. It was a defect, a reason to be decommissioned, executed.
Before Death’s revolt, Ace had thought the cyborg council might accept his relationship with another warrior. He’d allowed Thrasher to touch him in public, had touched the male in return. It had been glorious, freeing.
Foolhardy.
Having witnessed the cyborg council’s intolerance, Ace now refused to indulge in more than the most platonic public encounters. He wouldn’t risk Thrasher’s life.
They’d hidden their bond this long, not fully acting upon it, and they had survived. Continuing with that strategy was the rational choice.
“Your mission is to convince this commander to follow our orders.” Power didn’t address the outburst from Death’s female. “Until we grant you permission, you are not to reveal your cyborg status to any being, other than the female. No one, including the female, is to know about our plans for mass liberation. The Rebels are to wait for further instructions.”
“You expect the Rebels to follow us blindly?” Thrasher was as incredulous as Ace was. “Not knowing who we are or what our purpose is?”
“This commander has earned the other Rebel leaders’ loyalty. If she recommends an action, they will take it.”
“Why would she recommend an action from an entity who wishes to remain unknown?” Ace asked.
Cyborgs were half machine. They were accustomed to following orders with no explanations. Humans required a purpose for actions, especially the rebellious beings fighting the Humanoid Alliance. Their very nature caused them to balk at orders.
“If she’s your female, she’ll obey you.” There was no doubt in Power’s voice.
He had much to learn about human females. Their Commander didn’t obey any being without having a reason. We’ll earn her trust, Ace communicated to Thrasher.
And then we’ll betray her. Thrasher pointed out. That’s how she’ll view this suppression of information—as a betrayal.
She would view it that way. Ace suppressed a sigh. We’ll have our long lifespans to make it right. Once they bred with Carys, transferring their nanocybotics to their human, she’d share their longevity, have the ability to live forever.
“There’s another variable.” Power’s face was suspiciously blank. “The female has passed her prime breeding stage. The odds of manufacturing offspring with her are low. It might not be optimal to bond with a defective female but--”
“Our female is not defective,” Thrasher growled.
Ace curled his fingers into tight fists. The E Model was unaware they’d met and partially bonded with Carys. Power is merely stating facts, you emotional fool. Carys is past her prime breeding stage. It’s unlikely we’d manufacture offspring.
She’s a fraggin’ gift from the universe, ass. Only Thrasher was allowed to use that nickname. And she’s ours. We’re claiming her.
Ace agreed. They would claim her. Unlike many of his brethren, he didn’t have a driving desire for offspring. He had his hands full with keeping the overclocked warrior by his side out of trouble.
Ace met Power’s gaze. “Some would say that any human female compatible with a cyborg is defective.”
“They wouldn’t say that within my auditory range.” The E Model shook his head. “The Rebel commander is strong, intelligent, beautiful. Her additional solar cycles as a human make her…exotic.” His black eyes glowed with an interest Ace didn’t like.
Carys was claimed. No other male would touch her.
“She’s a leader, a female worthy of respect.” Power’s voice warmed with an admiration no warrior should show for another male’s female. “I would battle for the opportunity you’ve been given.”
“You would have to battle both of us.” Thrasher lunged forward.
Ace pulled him back. “You offered the opportunity to us. We’re taking it.”
“We did offer it to you.” Power didn’t appear pleased with their acceptance.
“She’s genetically compatible with us.” Would the warrior challenge that bond?
“She might be genetically compatible with one of you,” Power corrected.
“She’s genetically compatible with both of them,” Death’s female muttered. “Are you being deliberately obtuse?”
Ace suspected the E model was being deliberately obtuse. Power must have giv
en Death’s female the directive to find his female and realized there was no one for him. Rather than face a long lifespan without a female, he had set his gaze on their not-yet-claimed Commander.
Ace almost felt sympathy for him.
Almost.
“We have served the cyborg council well.” Ace directly met Power’s gaze. “We’ve earned the right to investigate whether or not the human commander is compatible with us.”
“Which she is.” Death’s female shook her head, appearing disgusted with the entire conversation.
“You have earned that right.” Power relented. “We’re transmitting the information you require. All transmission lines have been changed and are now secure. No one, other than cyborgs, can access them.”
A being on a Humanoid Alliance battle station had intercepted some of their past transmissions. The foolish humans must have finally realized that granting cyborgs unmonitored means of communications wasn’t wise.
“Keep my transmission line open,” Power advised unnecessarily. They wouldn’t close the line. “If you change your decision--”
“We won’t.” Thrasher glowered.
“We’ll contact you with additional instructions.” Power looked away from them.
They had been dismissed. Ace and Thrasher turned, their movements synchronized, and they marched out of the chamber.
He wants our female for himself. Thrasher fumed. That’s why he called her defective.
Ace suspected the male would never accept both of their claims on their Carys. He didn’t share that with the already angry warrior. He won’t make this mission easy for us.
We’ll overcome all of his challenges. Thrasher’s fury flowed into determination. Nothing will stop us from retrieving our female.
She’s a female other males might battle to claim. Power might not be the last male they confronted. Ace would ensure they chose only paired warriors to assist them with their mission.
We’ll win those battles. Thrasher bumped shoulders with him. And we’ll breed with our female as soon as possible.
