Branded Possession (The Machinery of Desire Book 3)

by Cari Silverwood

  The book was still clutched in his gloved hand.

  Panting, he looked fully into his brother’s eyes. “I would rather lose the book than lose you.”

  Badh clawed himself to his feet, also breathing hard, using Ryke’s leg and shirt, then his arm. He swayed. “Well, I’d rather have this.” He waved his trophy. “Thanks.”

  The book... The cover looked almost as perfect as it had the day he’d thrown it in. His mother’s words. Wonder and dread vied for supremacy.

  “It looks okay.” And he could’ve lost Badh. Whether he’d done this the right or wrong way, losing Badh...he couldn’t have handled that at all well.

  “Yeah. I guess I’ll let the Followers open it up?” He turned to his two men. “How’d you fare?”

  Both were young men but one now had blue writhing across his arm and face. The other seemed no worse, but beneath his clothes the picture might be different.

  They shrugged.

  “Okay. I’ve got years left in me.”

  “It was worth it, sir.”

  “You’re good men, good deckers.” Badh examined the arm he’d plunged into the sea. It too had added blue. “I agree. It was. Damn, it was.”

  As he watched Badh and his men climb the retractable ladder to the deck, Ryke fell into thought. He’d saved his brother from worse harm, but suffered none himself. It hardly seemed fair.

  They said for every ten new inches of blue on your skin you lost a year, and Badh must have at least thirty more. He’d almost seen him die.

  And yet...whatever might happen next, he felt good. He couldn’t recall feeling like this since forever, since she died. Maybe over all these decades, he’d been drowning anyway. He’d smothered himself, trained himself to not care.

  Maybe.

  And he’d not told Badh about the buried mechlings. It could wait.

  This, what had happened at the waik core, was why he’d had that urge to run. No one was closer to him than Badh...it had been like seeing a spear being thrown and not knowing if he had time to do anything except scream.

  A picture of Gio flashed into his thoughts, her in the shower, bending over, and him kissing her, biting her ass, fucking her.

  She too was invading his soul, bit by bit. Like a fucking disease. Obsession was not pretty.

  And she’d never surpass what he felt for his brother. That he’d kept intact, even when he’d cut all else away.

  Chapter 33

  Had it been wise to leave her with that unusual mechling? Only now as he approached, did the strange burial of mechlings rise to the top of his thoughts. Not surprising, considering what he’d seen and done since. Still, if he found her dismembered inside the residence...

  Unlikely in the extremes. Ryke ground his teeth. How stupid was he becoming? She preoccupied him too much. He kept his walk steady, no faster, no slower.

  He hadn’t even reached the residence door when someone ran over from a hopper that’d slewed to a stop next to the crop’s edge.

  “Yes?”

  The young man had the awed look of a Follower and kneeled when he reached Ryke, then his hand came up, offering something.

  “For you, sir. It’s been decided that you must be the one who reads this first.”

  The book.

  “Really.” He couldn’t help his dry tone; mocking their decision was his default. The Followers had been idiots to him for too many years. Still... He took it, and rubbed his thumb over the slightly pitted surface. This wasn’t rust. It was the strange effect of the Engine Sea. “Thank you.”

  The hide cover had been destroyed by the sea’s energy. If a person judged only by the exterior, this appeared to be a metal box, until they checked the sides and noticed the wafer-fine pages.

  “Thank you.” The man backed away still bent over.

  Seemed he’d acquired an even higher status in their eyes. Turning and still preoccupied with what he held, he almost tripped over a lump of bulging metal. He headed for the door and found himself stiffening as it swung inward.

  No blood and gore.

  And Aunt M waited. It greeted him in the hallway.

  As he’d thought, his worry was illogical. A couple of smaller mechlings whizzed past and into a room to the side.

  “I hope we don’t have too many of those.” He handed over his coat, the backpack with the filigree wings, the cleated shoes, then continued.

  “No, sir. I took heed and we only have four to keep the house in order.”

  “Four?” He supposed that was a proper number, though Badh might disagree. He should send some away.

  “I’m here, sir, because you have a screen alert.”

  “Badh?”

  “No. A man from the Above, his name is Gyle.”

  Instincts kicked him into fight-or-flight mode, and he certainly didn’t ever flee. His heartbeat thumped like a drum. His fists curled, uncurled. How had Gyle tracked him down?

  This was not good, or welcome. He entered a small room and hit the send button for the screen Aunt M directed him to. It fuzzed into the shape of, yes, Gyle. The fucker.

  “You’re no doubt wondering how I found you?”

  Ryke nodded and double-checked the book was offscreen. He didn’t bother pulling up a chair. This closet-like room was dark and he planned to leave soon.

  “I can’t tell you that. What I can say is that what you’re doing is not what the KOL is supposed to do.”

  Well then, straight to the point. “I have my reasons.”

  Gyle leaned back in his chair. “The woman? Or were you simply wanting to reminisce about your childhood?” He sat forward and put his face close to the screen. “I need you back on duty. I need her. I also want the mechling that you found in the residence.”

  Aunt M? Now that raised a slew of questions. “I’d rather stay here. Why do you want the mechling?”

  “It’s old tech and far advanced over what we have now.” He paused for several seconds. “You have to return. You know this.”

  Go for the kill. “I don’t trust you. The rumor is that the Gathering will involve the king standing down. If so, my allegiance is dust. I don’t know who you are working for. Or why you want the girl. There seems to be no portal mages on this ship. I’m sure of this.”

  There. He’d lied to Gyle’s face. Never thought that he’d...but then Gyle had already been lying to him.

  “Fine.” The man stuck his elbow on the desk before him, swiped down the bridge of his nose with finger and thumb. “I stand with Judge Ormrad and so should you. He’s willing to take you on.”

  Damn. He shook his head, the smallest amount. “Why?”

  “Why you? I lauded you. Look, I can see you’re besotted with this slave. Have her until the Gathering. Then...then you will bring her to us, and the mechling. No other deal will be made. Understand?”

  He’d accepted the statement about no portal mages far too easily. Fuck, he was lost. Gyle had some scheme, or two or three, running.

  “Okay.” This time he nodded. “I want to be alive after the new king comes. I guess you see that as Ormrad?”

  “Yes. He has a way to win all votes. He will be the next king.”

  So sure. Ormrad was the last man he desired as king, but life didn’t always go how you wanted it to. “It’s decided then.”

  “I’ll contact you to give you details before the day.”

  The screen blanked.

  But would he, could he, really do that? He’d bought himself time, nothing more...and been given some information.

  “Take me to Gio,” he said absently to Aunt M.

  “Yes, sir. I have made some renovatory adjustments and installed some new furniture from the storerooms also, sir.”

  He barely saw his surroundings as he followed the mechling. He found himself entering the circular room with the pond that looked down onto the sea. He could imagine the king’s consternation when he found out the sea could kill you. A pity they’d not realized you had to be almost soaking in it to suffer.

&
nbsp; Garlands of white blossoms hung from dead tree to dead tree and, as Aunt M had said, new furniture had been brought here.

  He touched the book where it sat in his pocket. Gio stood tall and elegant next to one of two large, curved and padded, bed-sized seats that hung from the overhead trees. The pond was on the other side of the seat and seemed brimming with water. She wore a silver-and-gray suit with pants and top combined as one. The front-clasped opening ran from cleavage to crotch.

  Eye-lock. Was that a gasp from her? She backed a step then waited. He smiled as he approached her. A steel bar would be needed to break this grip, though it was only of the mind.

  “I approve.” Once more, he slicked his gaze up her body, up that suit, from ass level to tits. “Definitely. Now undo those clasps.”

  Her lip curled into her mouth and arousal surfaced, blatant arousal. The lick of tongue, the softening of her gaze, the way she breathed. An instantaneous response. Stars, he loved that about her. No matter what he did, she flew with it. It’d been that way for days and only now did he fully realize this.

  The book – he’d meant to show her that first. Priorities had shifted. He had her before him, and growing more nude, second by second as she popped those clasps.

  When she’d finished undoing the suit, he rolled it partway off her shoulders, exposing more of her breasts. “Better. Much better.” His knuckles grazed her exposed nipples and he watched them turn into crinkled nubs that begged for his tongue. “I have something for you. To read,” he added, as puzzlement drifted over her face. “However. First.”

  With thumb and finger grip, he took hold of both nipples and pulled so she had to go lower or lose them. “On your knees.”

  She lowered herself, her look expectant, even eager.

  “Where were we last time? My cock in your mouth. I’d like it in your cunt, eventually, but mouth first. Take it out and suck it in. Count each time I fuck you.”

  Watching her obey without a single protest, then fucking her mouth, listening to her burbling the muffled numbers, he could’ve come but chose not to. He only went to ten. After one last, deep thrust, while he used both hands to hold her to him, he let her go, and backed away. “Keep your mouth open.”

  Glazed of eye, she did so. A dribble escaped her mouth, wet her chin and she remained kneeling. Her navel and beautifully seductive areolas, her body, all of her was his.

  Ryke almost groaned aloud; a small grunt was all he allowed himself. He had his mother’s words in this book and all he wanted was Gio. This was a sickness.

  And Gyle wanted her.

  “Stand.” His tone had dropped into a chasm of hurt.

  What the fuck was he doing contemplating giving her up?

  He was because she was just another female. There’d be others. So why did even his thought seem desperate?

  He peeled her out the suit and dropped it into the pond where it swirled deeper, taken by currents and gravity. Small green fish flicked their tails and dived under the cloth. Fish. How? Mechling fish? He’d only seen pictures of swimming animals. If Aunt M had stayed he’d have asked her the details.

  Instead...

  He helped Gio climb up onto the low swinging bed then stripped off his shirt and climbed up also.

  With the cream cushions and pillows arranged on the quilted green bedding, he lay down and pulled her over him, sitting with her back to his chest. He leaned over her shoulder, smelled her, then shuffled the book from his pants pocket.

  “This,” he said. “Is your doing.”

  “Oh.” Gingerly she reached to touch the cover.

  And it was.

  He’d never have thought to tell anyone about his ancient actions without her questions. Never.

  Even now it was fresh and raw, and felt as though someone had recently drawn a blade from his gut.

  With her naked, her ass to his dick, this was going to be an interesting read.

  He smirked. It would do. He had days to decide if he had to give her up. Asshole, why would you...so he’d make the most of her, first.

  He bit her shoulder, listened to her whimper, and licked the small redness.

  “Let’s read this. I want to hear your voice. Begin.”

  His cock was still outside his pants and as she began to speak the small movements rubbed it up and down her back.

  A very interesting read.

  “It was on the fifth day after we lost the landship that Darme died...”

  His father.

  That was a gut punch. But he was long dead.

  He watched her as much as he listened, appreciating the intimacy of this as he never had before. He’d never had a woman who was his who would sit like this with him. Did it show a degree of trust?

  Perhaps.

  The small hairs on her nape stirred when he breathed. She giggled, actually giggled, when he did that then nibbled her. And when he gently took a handful of each breast in his hands, she ceased to talk and stilled, waiting for his next move – he knew this, because he knew her so well.

  He squeezed them, but not as hard as he might have on other days. Variety was good, he decided.

  He bit his way along both of her shoulders, licked her ears, chided her because she’d stopped doing what she was supposed to do – read.

  And he did listen. She paused on the last page, running her fingertips over what seemed the inside of the back cover.

  “Are some of these words new? Can you tell?” He took a handful of her hair, then gathered more into his hand until he had a ponytail and pulled until she had to bend backward look at him.

  “I...yes? I’ve read the other version many times.”

  He stroked her neck, cupped it where her larynx was. Trust...she barely blinked, if anything her eyelids began to softly close.

  “No closing your eyes.” He kissed her forehead. “Tell me.”

  “The text about swallowing the waik crystal has new parts. Where she says she had a sudden knowledge, and that she knew she must touch the ground.”

  Yes, that was new. He’d not listened well.

  He thought it through. If so, the Followers would be ecstatic. They’d tried to do this and some people had died. Two, he’d heard. Waik crystals were meant to power things. The untreated ones, the Scavs used in their weapons and vehicles.

  Gio squirmed and he lessened the power in his hold, let her straighten, only to find the suppleness of her ass against him far too distracting. By then his cock was at full erection and painfully so.

  Fuck more reading.

  He took the book from her and tossed it to the end of this swinging bed.

  “Turn and face me, straddle my legs.”

  Though the bed rocked, she managed with grace, until she almost fell off. He grabbed her wrist and stopped her toppling face first to the floor.

  “I need you intact, but especially these.”

  Though his hands found her breasts again, he slid them lower to her waist, then waited as she straddled him.

  His cock stuck up between them and she eyed it as if it might be dangerous or tasty. He’d had enough of her sucking him, needed himself buried in her.

  “Sit and fuck yourself down onto me.”

  Her breasts swayed as she did so. The tip of his cock touched her cunt. On target and in the middle of her wet hole. He let her control the descent for a while but when she was excruciatingly slow, he tightened his grip. The pain twisted into her face, made her gulp, made her fuck down onto him by a full inch.

  A wave of pleasure burst from every particle of his cock that her pussy had swallowed. He’d swear he saw an explosion of colors and a choir singing.

  Humans. It was that. His next breath was ragged.

  Nothing beat this. He dug his fingers in some more, then found her engorged clit and pinched the slippery hood, twisted it just to hear her squeal.

  “Fuck!” she gasped. Then she cried another agonized fuck with her head falling forward, her hair in a messed-up curtain over her face. She slipped down until they were
skin to skin. His balls grew soaked as her lower lips squashed down near them, and slid. Even that had him tensing and wondering how long he’d last.

  Her mouth was good but this...he let out a groan that he crushed by pulling her head close to bruise her with a kiss. Strands of hair mashed and meshed between their lips and tongues. He tasted her face, her lips, and inside her mouth by devouring them and licking, his hand shoved into her hair, his other clawed into her ass, him fucking her as she ground onto him.

  Up and down, with neither of them coherent in their cries by then, though he made certain to hurt her when she needed it, or when he did.

  Seeing her cry out then to feel cunt clamp onto his cock, watching her attempt to pluck his finger and thumb off her clit or her pussy lip, then reverse and try to hold it to her dearly. It brought out the savage in him.

  After she writhed into a choking orgasm – because he’d half-suffocated her with his hand –he fucked her and jetted his cum into her. The satisfaction left his thighs shaking, new for him, never before, with sweat making their bodies slip and slide.

  She thought him finished but he flipped her onto her stomach, for his cock was still hard.

  “You think I’m done?” he rasped into her ear, mauling it with his teeth then dropping his aim to her adjacent neck.

  “No?’ she spluttered, her mouth submerged in bedding.

  He held her there, his hand V’d on the back of her neck. “No, I’m fucking not. Hold yourself there, shove your asshole up where I can get to it.”

  He watched her do as she was told. Her back curved and her ass popped into the air. “Good.”

  Then he positioned himself, his dick aiming for her little hole. “Only place my cock hasn’t been. Had you forgotten?”

  Her grunt was as much an encouragement as anything. Or maybe... “Was that a no? Don’t answer. I don’t fucking care.”

  He swore as her ass trembled under his hands, gods he loved the idea of her mindfucked and scared, then pulled her even higher, and let the head of his cock kiss that hole. His cum and her wetness had already leaked all over it and he slicked it up his shaft, then the head, then pushed down and in, fuck it, a long way in. He watched as his cock squeezed further inside.