by Cynthia Sax
“Is he?” Their female wasn’t a being to back down from a challenge. She turned her attention to Ace, sucking his balls into her mouth.
You act like a warrior without honor. Ace’s lips flattened.
Their Carys worked their cocks with her hands and Ace’s balls with her mouth until Ace was shaking as hard as Thrasher was. That must have irked the warrior. He prided himself on his control, on his machine side’s hold over his organic side.
Thrasher had no such illusions. He considered his passion to be one of his strengths and frag, he was passionate about handjobs. He rocked into their Carys’ fingers, unable to remain still, not when such bliss was surging through his circuits.
“I’m lasting,” he boasted.
Ace cursed.
Their Carys licked the warrior’s cock head and he jerked, appearing delightfully frantic. Ace didn’t succumb to desire often. Thrasher liked seeing the male overcome.
Their female gazed up at him.
Thrasher braced himself. “We’ve never lost a battle.”
Pain flashed across her face. “I have.” Her hands slowed.
You emotionally damaged our female. Ace was as stricken by the verbal blunder as Thrasher was.
“You won’t lose any more battles.” Thrasher sought to repair the situation. “We won’t allow that to happen.”
“You won’t allow that to happen?” Her grip on their cocks intensified and Thrasher inhaled sharply, her reaction filling him with lust and admiration. “I’m the commander.”
“Yes, Commander.” They spoke as one.
“I didn’t reach this rank because I was weak.” She laved Thrasher’s tip with her tongue once, twice, three times, the pleasure flickering his vision system. “I fight my own battles.” Her strokes were hard and fast. “You either follow me or you get out of my way.”
“Yes, Commander.” Thrasher’s knuckles whitened.
“Nothing gets between me and my duty.” She sucked on Ace’s cock head for two heartbeats. “Never again.”
Their Carys murmured those last two words.
Thrasher and Ace, having enhanced senses, heard her.
Some being got between her and her duty, Ace pointed out.
And she lost that battle. Thrasher studied her face, noting the grooves around her mouth. Someone she loved died. Maybe multiple beings. We—
Their Carys inhaled his cock and his processors shut down. Her lips were wrapped around him. Her tongue cradled him. She was hot and wet and small, too small. Their female couldn’t take all of him. She covered his remaining flesh with her free hand.
Thrasher gazed down at the top of her head, at the silver glittering in the short dark strands, at the wisps of hair at her nape. Need and wonder and a sense of awe swept over him. He didn’t know a male could experience such delight.
Stunned, he met Ace’s gaze.
The warrior’s eyes widened. What is it?
Everything. He clenched his jaw as their Carys bobbed. This is everything. I can’t wait for you to feel this, ass. If you thought the handjob was good—
It was much more than good.
This will blow your processors. His processors weren’t operating, his body relying solely on his organic brain.
Pressure built at the base of his spine. He could fight it but he wouldn’t. They’d waited long enough to claim her. “Yes, Commander. Yes.” He thrust into her mouth, carefully not to venture too deep. “Bring me to my knees. Show me who is in charge.”
She ravished him, always keeping one hand on Ace’s cock, maintaining their link. The three of them were connected, one. She was their center, their conduit.
His balls smacked against her chin. Her breath wafted over his base. Sweat glistened on her skin, making her curves sparkle.
They had skill and knowledge. Information gathered from all of the cyborgs manufactured before them had been relayed to their databases. Their female had the experience they lacked, in battle, in dealing with beings, and especially in this—breeding.
Thrasher was hapless to resist her, enthralled by her touch, at her mercy.
When their female had tormented him enough, she lowered her free hand to his balls, glanced up at him. Her eyes glimmered with intent.
What did she have planned for—
She squeezed his balls.
Thrasher roared. It took all of his control not to drive fully into her mouth. Cum shot from his cock. His vision system malfunctioned, casting him into darkness. It recovered, malfunctioned a second time, recovered again.
Carys swallowed, screamed, the sound muffled by his hard shaft, and sucked harder. Thrasher came again, the bliss weakening his legs. She swallowed, screamed, sucked. The cycle continued until he’d given her all of him.
He had nothing left.
Thrasher’s knees malfunctioned. He fell, connected with hard floor. He didn’t feel the impact. A soul-deep pleasure had filled him, not allowing room for any other emotion.
“Commander.” He brushed the strands of hair away from her face and kissed her wet lips, tasting himself, blended with her unique flavor.
He wanted to taste Ace in that mix also. Thrasher looked at the warrior. Lust had darkened the male’s eyes. Some of that desire was directed at their Carys but some of it was also directed at him.
Thrasher’s fulfillment expanded, making him lightheaded with happiness.
“Ace needs you.” He rubbed their Carys’ back, wanting to share that feeling with Ace, yet knowing he’d taxed their little human’s more delicate form.
She might not have sufficient energy to satisfy both of them.
“I can wait.” The warrior shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, his hard cock belying his words.
“I can’t wait.” Their Carys positioned herself in front of Ace. “I want total victory.”
She pushed her lips over Ace’s tip, along his shaft. Thrasher watched, fascinated, as more and more of the male’s cock disappeared into their female’s mouth.
Having his cock sucked by their Carys had melted his systems. Observing the female he had claimed pleasuring the male he loved warmed his entire body.
Ace was muscle and power, a finely honed weapon, trained to kill, to battle the enemy. He stood with his feet braced apart, his shoulders square, an immovable being able to face the worst the universe could send them and defeat it.
Their Carys was soft and curvy, human and exquisitely female. She kneeled before him, the vision of submission, the image of deference.
Yet she was the being in charge, holding Ace’s satisfaction in her pale hands, in her gifted mouth. She skillfully ratcheted his passion upward, managing the pace, the pleasure.
The male clung to his control, resisting, resisting, resisting.
She squeezed his balls. That didn’t push Ace over the edge.
His eyes were glazed. He had retreated into his deepest programming, the place they went when the Humanoid Alliance had tortured them.
Break, you stubborn ass. Thrasher positioned himself behind their female, supporting her lush form with his, aiding in her erotic assault.
Never.
Ace was the most obstinate warrior he’d ever encountered. He’d fight his release forever, simply to prove that he could.
Their Carys trembled, her bare skin rubbing against Thrasher’s. She was just as determined to win the battle. Thrasher shook his head. He was surrounded by intractable idiots.
You’re damaging our female, ass. He dealt the deathblow to Ace’s restraint.
Ace blinked, returning to reality, and gazed at their Carys. Her hair was damp. Her shoulders slumped. She alternated hands, flexing her fingers.
Ace shuddered. The pleasure—
He was feeling it now.
Let it happen, Thrasher transmitted softly, giving the male permission.
Ace pushed his hips forward, tilted his head back, and roared.
Thrasher stared at him with amazement. He didn’t know the warrior had that level of passion
in him. Ace’s face pulled tight. His muscles bulged.
Their Carys swallowed, her form shaking, her skin glowing, her lips glistening, her release as glorious to see. Thrasher held her, murmuring words of comfort, vows of protection, of devotion, of security into her ear.
Ace crashed to the floor, his bare skin smacking against the tile. He leaned forward and Thrasher wrapped his arms around him also.
The warrior didn’t protest the touching. That was how gone he was.
“I won.” Their Carys’ voice was weak.
“You won.” Thrasher threaded his fingers through strands of her hair, cradling the back of her skull, turned her face toward his. Her eyes were dreamy, her cheeks flushed. He kissed her soundly, tasting all three of them on her lips, committing that distinct flavor to his databases.
“We were defenseless against you, Commander.” Ace, being a cyborg, had a faster recovery time. He pressed his lips against their Carys’ shoulder.
“As with all victories, this one came at a price.” Their female’s smile was sleepy. “I’m worn out.”
She required a rest cycle. Thrasher gathered her in his arms, preparing to transfer her to the sleeping support.
Ace jumped to his feet.
“I did this to our Commander.” He bent and scooped her out of Thrasher’s arms. “I’ll repair her damage.”
The ass felt guilty about depleting her energy levels. Thrasher shook his head and allowed Ace to take her from him.
Ace transported their Carys to the middle of the sleeping support. They lay beside her, one on each side of her, protecting their much smaller, much more fragile human. Any attacker would have to go through their metal frames to get to her.
She sighed contentedly and wiggled into their forms. “I’ll sleep for a moment.” She yawned. “And then we’ll talk.” Her eyes closed. “About. Everything.”
Her breathing leveled.
Their female was asleep.
I’ll tell her anything she asks. Thrasher wouldn’t keep secrets from her.
The cyborg council—
Is no longer my first priority. Thrasher skimmed his right index finger over their Carys’ slightly parted lips, learning the dip in her top lip, the fullness of her bottom lip. She is.
And Ace was. Thrasher didn’t add that revelation to the conversation. He would fight one battle at a time.
She’s my priority also. Ace frowned. Knowing everything might put her at risk.
She’s highly intelligent. He studied the long dark eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. Her gaze missed very little. Evasion won’t work. She’ll realize we’re holding information back from her. That will damage her trust and damage our relationship.
Ace didn’t say anything because the warrior knew he was right.
If she asks, we’re telling her everything. He had done as Ace recommended and waited to claim her. That had almost cost them their female. He wouldn’t relent on this decision.
Then we should both hope she doesn’t ask, Ace grumbled.
She’d ask. Thrasher looked at the lines on her face. He suspected she had earned each one. Their female was a commander of the Rebel forces.
She’d want all the information in their databases.
They held her. Other cyborgs, freed and enslaved, chattered on the transmission lines, exchanging information. Thrasher listened but remained silent.
Their mission wasn’t to be shared with their brethren.
We should check in. Ace must have been thinking about their mission also. Communicate with Power.
The way Ace said the cyborg’s name told Thrasher his partner trusted the council member as much as he did…which was not at all.
Power wanted their Commander for his own female, uncaring that he lacked the genetic bond with her. He recognized her strength, her intelligence, her worth.
Thrasher understood his desperation. He’d always had Ace, hadn’t lived the numerous human lifespans Power, an earlier E Model, had, and yet the loneliness, the bleakness of the universe had still gripped him.
But he wouldn’t allow any other warrior to touch their female.
She was theirs.
Thrasher would tell the E Model that. Power.
I communicate with you. You aren’t to communicate with me. The warrior informed them arrogantly over his exclusive transmission line.
The commander has been claimed, Thrasher stated bluntly.
She’s not claimed until she has absorbed your nanocybotics. Power pushed back.
The bastard wasn’t accepting defeat. A rumble rolled up Thrasher’s chest, the menacing sound revealing his unhappiness. If Power had been in the same chamber and not halfway across the universe, Thrasher would have driven his point home…with his fists.
Ace bumped against him. Thrasher glanced at him. The warrior shook his head.
Thrasher pressed his lips together, receiving the untransmitted message. He wasn’t to threaten the cyborg council member.
She’s claimed. Ace took over the communications. K Model nanocybotics seep from her pores and are changing her form as we speak. They’ll prevent any other warrior from touching her. Other males will find the commander undesirable to kiss and to breed with. She’ll feel the same about them.
Their nanocybotics would fight Power’s. To the death.
That would be painful, damaging both of them.
Then it is done. Power’s transmission was edged with disappointment.
It is done. Thrasher lifted his chin. And no warrior, not even a council member, can undo it. Their Carys was safe from the E Model’s desires.
He’d be a fool to try to undo it. There are other females in the universe. Power didn’t sound as though he believed those words. Is this why you contacted me? To tell me this?
The warrior was such an ass.
Ace’s shoulder brushed against his again. That’s the extent of our report.
Don’t contact me again. Power ended the transmission.
That’s the end of that. Thrasher grinned at Ace.
Yes. Ace smiled back at him, the male looking more carefree than he had for solar cycles. The Commander is now ours.
Don’t tell her that. Thrasher laughed.
Chapter Five
A soft cloth swept over Carys’ back, the delicate caress waking her. Another cloth ran along her arms. The two warriors were cleaning her, tending to her.
She kept her eyes closed, savoring the experience. It had been a long time since she’d felt cared for. Her parents, two weathered agri lot tenders, hadn’t been the doting types. They had favored discipline over tenderness.
She’d turned to Brin, a boy at the local Academy, for comfort. He’d been a singer, a dreamer, his soulful eyes and romantic nature appealing to her.
During the less busy cold weather season, they met in storage structures, the nourishment for the bovines acting as insulators. Brin crafted songs, shared his plans for the future, how he’d trek from planet to planet, entertaining, performing, being the focus of admiration, of envy.
He never mentioned her in any of those plans. She hadn’t noticed it at the time, had assumed he’d bring her with them. In her girlish mind, she had associated their physical closeness with an emotional connection.
Brin had taken what she’d freely offered. Every encounter ended with him inside her. He had been her first fuck and she’d had no one to talk about precautions.
By the time the ground thawed, she was pregnant. Their parents found out and forced them to bond, destroying all of Brin’s glorious plans. They were given an agri lot of their own in the middle of nowhere, even more isolated than her parents’ square of land.
Brin refused to work it. He spent planet rotations in their domicile, crafting songs and staring into space, a forlorn expression on his handsome face. Carys tended the lot, and cared for Pimmy, the love of her lifespan. She thought she could do it all.
Then the Humanoid Alliance had attacked and she found out she was wrong.
The c
leaning stopped, the two males withdrawing the cloths at the same time. It intrigued her how they always seemed to know what the other was thinking.
The sleeping support dipped and then rose.
“We know you’re not asleep, Commander.” Humor lightened Thrasher’s voice.
Carys gazed at him. A smile curled his lips. Ace stood behind him, more serious yet every bit as handsome. They were both in full body armor, daggers and guns decorating the black garments.
She was naked, facedown on the sleeping support, her ass exposed. There was nothing they hadn’t already seen and she had no inclination to move. She felt more rested than she had in half a solar cycle.
She also felt…different. “I’m bubbling.”
“Those are our nanocybotics.” Ace gazed at her with pride. “They won’t ever fade.”
“Nano.” Carys stiffened. “Cybotics?” She sat, certain she’d misheard him. “That’s not possible. The only beings equipped with nanocybotics are--”
“Cyborgs.” Thrasher said the damning word. “Ace and I are cyborgs.”
“No.” She rolled off the sleeping support and stood. “No. No. No.” She hadn’t sucked off the enemy. “Cyborgs are war machines.”
“We’re half machine,” Thrasher corrected. “We’re also half organic. We have brains as well as processors.”
“But we were designed for battle. That was correct.”
Thrasher cast a hard glance at Ace. “You didn’t have to volunteer that information.”
“You’re the being who wanted to be truthful.” The male rolled his eyes. “And our female is intelligent. She knows we’re warriors.”
She knew they were warriors, but were they cyborgs? Was that the truth?
Carys remembered the machine…the warrior who had prevented her from saving her daughter. He’d had bigger guns, was taller, broader, sported gray skin. A model number - C345925 - had been inked below his right eye.
Her gaze shifted from Ace’s face to Thrasher’s. Black marks slashed across their cheeks.
Exactly where the model numbers would be.
Fuck. Carys’ stomach churned. They’d hidden them.
“You’re cyborgs.” They might have killed Pimmy, Brin, her parents, and she’d given them pleasure, rewarded them. Bile burned the back of her throat. “You fight for the Humanoid Alliance.”
