Releasing Rage

by Cynthia Sax

  Pleasing him made her happy. He didn’t know how to deal with that truth. “Clean me.” He pushed his hips forward, needing more of her touch.

  “Yes, sir.” She reached for the cleaning cloth.

  “With your tongue.”

  “Sorry, sir.” She licked his tip with light dainty flicks, poked and prodded his slit, laved his shaft with the flat of her tongue. His ball wasn’t neglected. She sucked it into her mouth, rolled it gently.

  Rage supervised her efforts silently, enjoying her care, not expecting it to last. She remained human, the enemy. She’d hurt him eventually.

  But not this planet rotation. She kissed the specks of cum on his thighs, not wasting a drop. When she was done, she looked to him for approval.

  He shouldn’t encourage her but he didn’t have the heart to say nothing. “Good job, female.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She beamed, her beauty hitting him like a punch to his gut. “You continue to be with me.” She rubbed her rounded stomach. “When will your presence fade?”

  He frowned. “It should have faded by now.” The other females said nothing about his nanocybotics lasting.

  She must be on a new line of breeding drugs.

  But why would she feign ignorance? And why would she ask him these questions?

  “When did you last see a medic?” Could they have put her on drugs without her knowledge? That was something the evil humans would do.

  “I saw one ten planet rotations ago, when I took the fertility inhibitor.” She maintained a consistent story.

  But she would. She was a clever female.

  Something wasn’t processing. He gazed at her with suspicion.

  “I’ll see a medic while you’re on deployment, sir. Have him run some tests.”

  “You will not see a medic.” No one was touching his female, especially not a medic. They had been responsible for his permanent scars.

  She looked at him as though he was being irrational.

  And he was. She was destined to die by his hand. He shouldn’t care if another being completed that task for him.

  But he did care, very much.

  “You were attacked once and you barely survived,” he reasoned with her. “You were conscious then. If the medic puts you under—”

  “I wouldn’t live through an attack.” Her face paled.

  That she feared the entire ship meant someone high up in the command chain was responsible. She’d mentioned Commander Lewis being… what did she call him? A female-hating rectal wipe.

  “You’ll carry the dagger with you at all times.” He’d deal with Commander Lewis during his escape. “And you won’t leave our chambers unless it is necessary.”

  “Our chambers,” she repeated.

  “Whenever I’m here, you’re here. They’re our chambers.” That was a fact, not a declaration of feelings.

  Not that he had feelings for her.

  “You’ll stay in them,” he emphasized that point. No one except her could access the inner door. Not even Boyd could enter their chambers.

  “I have to fulfill my duties, sir.” Joan lifted her chin. “One of those is to accompany you to the docking bay.”

  Rage didn’t like it but she was right. She was required to walk with him to his ship, to go through that releasing protocol nonsense. “You’ll accompany me, then return here and wait.”

  “I have other duties, sir.” Her jaw jutted.

  “Joan,” he growled.

  “If I don’t complete them, the Commander will reprimand me, and you’ll be assigned another engineer.”

  Rage stared at her. She stared back. She might submit in other areas but not this one.

  Because her life was at stake, he acknowledged. The Commander would reprimand his little female by sending her to fight the Mantidae. She’d be dead before her feet touched the planet.

  “I won’t take unnecessary risks.”

  This attempt to reassure him was unsuccessful. She thought a necessary risk was punching a heavily armed human guard.

  But Rage had to accept it. He couldn’t control her while he was on deployment, although he desperately wanted to. “Retrieve my body armor, stubborn female.”

  Chapter Five

  Thirteen planet rotations later, Joan remained alive, having dodged several hallway attacks, been bumped into walls, punched, kicked, bruised, but not seriously hurt.

  She’d also gained Rage’s trust. Some of it. He wouldn’t allow her to examine his central processors. The small gaps in footage persisted deployment after deployment. But she’d earned the right to upgrade his mechanics.

  She surveyed her work, wanting the improvement to be perfect. Any errors could cause his death and she’d used a nanocybotics suppressor to make them permanent. His body couldn’t repair her mistakes. “How does it feel, sir?”

  Rage curled his fingers into fists. The action sent energy surging through his arm circuits in a dazzling display of colored light. “I can use my hand again.”

  “You were only offline temporarily.” She examined his arm one last time. “Your motion should be smoother, faster.” She closed the access panel. The seam disappeared, blending into his skin. “Can you test it for me, sir?”

  Her cyborg completed a couple of arm curls, his biceps bulging. She watched him, fascinated with the play of skin over muscle. His strength made her hot.

  Everything he did aroused her.

  “It appears to be functioning.” He hooked his arm around her waist and lifted her easily off the elevation platform.

  “You’re powerful,” she murmured, her pussy moistening.

  “You’re tiny.”

  Only he thought so. Joan was a former agri lot worker with a sturdy, stocky build. She grasped his shoulders. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hips aligned with his abs. Her thighs cradled his erection. She’d grown accustomed to her nudity.

  Joan would never become used to his touch, the warmth of his hands scorching her, sparking her inner fire. She’d sucked Rage off when he returned from deployment, coming as his essence filled her stomach. His presence remained inside her, never fading, perhaps because they never went a planet rotation without a cum transfer.

  She wiggled against his hardness. “Do you wish for me to ease your pain, sir?” That was the excuse she clung to, the reason for touching her cyborg inappropriately.

  “I wish to test my fine motor skills, female.” He plunked her bare ass on a horizontal support. “Spread your legs.”

  Joan complied, trembling with anticipation.

  “You’re wet for your cyborg.” He gazed at her pussy, his eyes gleaming with approval.

  “Yes, sir.” She was always wet for him.

  Rage cupped her mons, dipping his fingertips into her juices, and she jerked, the connection between them shocking yet right. He rubbed her slowly, watching her face. She bit back a moan. His scarred coarse hands on her body felt so good.

  His gentleness with her contrasted vividly with the images she’d viewed from his deployments. Her cyborg was a finely honed killing machine, dispatching the alien enemy quickly, efficiently.

  That didn’t bother her. Killing was in his design. She didn’t blame a bovine for being a bovine or a predator for being a predator. She wouldn’t bemoan his joy of fighting. It was who he was.

  He might have been designed to fight and to breed. He hadn’t been manufactured to seduce, to woo a female into giving him all of her. Yet that was what he was doing with her, brushing his thumbs over her clit, nuzzling his face against her neck.

  She murmured, sharing all the naughty things she wanted them to try and tilted her head to the side, giving him more access to her. Rage took that offered terrain, mouthing along her skin. He smelled good, like machine and male, her male. She slid her palms over his pecs, claiming his body, covering him with her scent, her touch.

  He rumbled, pushed two of his large fingers inside her pussy. Yes. She arched her back. That was what she wanted—his erotic invasion. He pumped h
er, pressing his fingertips along her inner walls, sending waves of bliss over her form.

  She licked his chest, his neck, his square chin, telling him with her fingers, lips, words how much she wanted him, how only he could arouse her like that. He tasted of elements-tested metal, of battle-worn warrior, of endurance and survival, and she wanted more of him, all of him. “Rage, sir.”

  He spread his fingers, stretching her. “Are you ready for me, female?”

  “Yes, sir.” She’d been ready for planet rotations, wanting, needing this.

  Rage searched her face as though doubting her claim. She lifted her chin, met his gaze directly, allowing all of her certainty show.

  He nodded, removed his fingers from her pussy, the wet suction loud in the quiet chambers. Without breaking their eyelock, he sucked his skin clean, his enjoyment as open as her desire.

  “Turn over,” he ordered.

  He wished to take her like an animal, like, she suspected, he had taken the females in the breeding program. She didn’t want to be an anonymous fuck. “I wish to look at your face, sir, when you breed with me.” She wanted that connection with him.

  Rage blinked once, twice, as though he was having difficulty processing her request. “Why?”

  Had none of the other females wished to look at him? Joan’s heart twisted. “Because I serve only you, sir. I wish to have no other cyborg’s cock inside me.”

  “There will be no other cyborgs,” he roared, his eyes blazing with emotion. “You’re mine.”

  “I’m yours, sir.” She faced his fury without fear, his passion thrilling her.

  He huffed.

  She waited.

  “Open wider for me,” her possessive cyborg amended his command.

  She obeyed, a small smile curling her lips. He wedged his hips between her thighs. His hard cock nudged her pussy lips, bumped against her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her womb.

  “Feed me into you.”

  Joan curled her fingers around his base and guided him into her entrance.

  Fuck. He was large, much wider than his fingers. She pulled tightly around him, pain edging her satisfaction. “Sir.” She struggled to breathe as he sank deeper and deeper into her.

  “You can take me, Joan.” Rage gripped her hips and adjusted his angle of entry.

  “I can, sir.” The use of her name comforted her. She wasn’t simply a replaceable female. He knew who she was.

  He worked his way into her, forging forward, retreating, forging forward, retreating. The bloom of his cock head applied pressure against her pussy walls. The scar on his shaft added unexpected stimulation, offering a reminder of the warrior she had inside her.

  Not that she would forget. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, this fullness unlike anything she’d ever experienced. He changed her body with each foray deeper, forcing her to accommodate him, and she knew she’d never be the same.

  Finally her feminine folds pressed against his hairless base and he stopped. “A cyborg’s cock is inside you, human.” His eyes glittered with triumph, as though he’d scored a victory for his entire species.

  He hadn’t. “Rage’s cock is inside my pussy, sir,” she dared to counter. “I wouldn’t allow any other cyborg to fuck me.” She’d seen the other cyborgs during deployment. None of them interested her sexually. Only he had this effect on her.

  “You won’t allow any male, cyborg or human or other, to breed with you.” He pulled out to his tip and slammed back into her, punishing her for a possibility she’d already rejected.

  “No, sir,” she gasped, clung tighter to his shoulders. He was possessive, her cyborg, demanding all of her attention.

  And she was happy to give it to him. He pistoned in and out of her pussy, his fucking breath-stealingly savage. She wrapped her legs around his waist and rode his ferocity, panting with the effort.

  As she learned his tempo, she rose up to meet it, their bodies colliding, heat radiating from the points of contract. He didn’t use all of his might, she knew. That would have destroyed her. But he gave her a taste, rutting into her with vigor.

  She’d feel him for planet rotations, perhaps forever, her thighs already tender and her pussy lips throbbing. Her nipples slapped against his unrelenting chest, adding a sting of pain.

  Under his human-like skin, his frame was metal, not bone. That difference was illustrated with every thrust. There was no give, no illusion of softness. He was all hard male.

  Joan loved it, crying “More, more, more” against his neck. He didn’t vary his rhythm, refusing to give her what she asked for.

  Fuck that. She pressed her heels into his clenched ass cheeks, urging him to move faster.

  He grunted, obeying, pulling her onto his shaft as he drove forward.

  “Shit. Yes,” she cried, bliss radiating from her core. Her pussy juices splattered his hips, oozed over his ball. The scent of her musk hung heavy in the air. Sweat covered her body, slicking his slide.

  She thought fucking and breeding were the same thing, the words interchangeable, one used by humans and one by cyborgs but this was unlike any fucking she’d participated in the past. This was an entirely different kind of sex, carnal, primal, brutal.

  It was the unapologetic taking of a female by her dominant male, the assertion of his ownership. Rage branded her form with his cock, pounding into her with a focus bordering on obsession. She was as crazed as he was, pushed him to take her even harder, deeper, nipping his pecs, raking her nails over his back.

  Her desire spiraled out of control, spinning upward, upward, upward, until fractures formed within her soul. She couldn’t hold on. She couldn’t—

  He snapped his hips forward, swiveled, and she shattered, a million jagged pieces of shrapnel flying from her center. She screamed, bucking against him, clenching her pussy around his shaft.

  Rage roared her name, holding her to him, and came hard, his cum propelling out of his tip with a shocking intensity, hitting her pussy walls again and again. Each bombardment brought ecstasy, splitting her brain into smaller fragments, pounding her thoughts into dust.

  He thrust once, twice more, and shuddered, his cock pulsing inside her. “Mine.” He stroked her back as she shook. “My female.”

  Joan pressed her cheek against his heaving chest, her parts gradually becoming whole once more. He was responsible for that, she knew. His nanocybotics bubbled and popped, not only within her womb, but everywhere, in her fingertips, her breasts, her brain.

  “What just happened, sir?” She turned to him for answers, her lack of control scaring her.

  “Breeding.” Rage’s deep voice settled over her, soothing her battered senses.

  “Is it always like this?” That would explain her reaction and ease that worry, but she didn’t like the thought of him having experienced that unrestrained passion with other females. Not at all.

  “It has never been like this.” He sighed, sounding as troubled as she was. “But I’ve never had a female more than once.”

  That could be an explanation.

  Except she’d been attracted to him the moment she saw, no, smelled him. “I’ve had males more than once and never felt like this.” With her human lovers, the attraction hadn’t built. It had faded.

  “No talk of other males,” Rage growled, his grip on her tightening. “You’re mine now. You think and talk only about me.”

  He was a domineering brute, her cyborg. “Yes, sir.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest, wishing to appease him. “Your arm seems to be working well.” She focused on the change she understood.

  “You did a good job, female.” He kissed her forehead.

  The rare praise made her glow. “Humans kiss on the lips, sir.” He’d never covered her lips with his, not once. “It’s a sign of affection.”

  “I’m not human.” He pushed away from her, his cock slipping from her pussy.

  Joan shivered, feeling the absence of his warm body and the coldness of his words. “You’re a cyborg
.” She hugged her waist, seeking to comfort herself. “And you plan to breed with me until it’s time to kill me.”

  “I’m a C Model. Breeding and fighting is what we do.” He grabbed a cleaning cloth and stared down at his cock. His skin glistened with their combined juices, with the remnants of their breeding.

  He didn’t clean himself. Instead, he tossed the cleaning cloth to the floor.

  He wanted to smell like her. Joan’s hurt instantly dissipated. With her cyborg, his actions revealed more than his words. “You’re Rage, the fiercest cyborg I’ve ever met, not a model type. You can do whatever you wish, sir.”

  He glowered at her.

  She smiled demurely back at him. “You control your own future. If you don’t wish to fight, then don’t fight.”

  “I enjoy fighting. I’m good at it. And that ability of mine is the only reason the Humanoid Alliance allows me to breathe.” He paused. Lines appeared around his grimly set lips. “Is that why you’re here?” His anger flowed to open suspicion and Joan stifled a sigh. He didn’t fully trust her. Not yet. “Are you trying to incite me to rebel so your fellow humans have a reason to dispose of me?”

  She glanced down at the new slivers of scarred skin on his wrists. “No, sir.” She suspected he was already planning to escape. “But if you were to rebel, you should know that the Humanoid Alliance has equipped all cyborgs with three tracking devices, not two.”

  The flicker in his eyes confirmed her guess.

  He planned to escape and when he did, she’d be assigned the blame for losing the Humanoid Alliance’s top cyborg warrior. She’d be reprimanded, sent to the front lines to die.

  That didn’t bother Joan. She’d die eventually. She couldn’t avoid the hallway attacks forever. And he’d be free. One of them would live.

  “There are five tracking devices in every cyborg’s ship.” She gave him more information. “There are two more deployments and then the battle station is repositioning. Loss of cyborg ships is expected during repositioning. They’re slow, weighted down with supplies, easy for the enemy to attack. The Humanoid Alliance might not investigate if your ship didn’t return.”

  “Is this a trick?” His thick eyebrows lowered.