by Cynthia Sax
Her lips parted.
Crash captured her mouth again, stopping her protest. She was warm and wet and he stroked into her, captivated by the contact, by her. Her curves filled his arms, pressing against his body armor. Her hair shone like flame around her face.
He’d give her enough health to allow him to step back, to process the situation. Right now, her damage interfered with his circuits.
Crash lowered into a chair and settled her on his lap. She fit as though she belonged there, as though she was his.
Did she belong to him? Had he found his female, the being he was genetically destined to be with? Would she kneel at his feet as Joan kneeled at Rage’s? Would she look up at him with wonder, with love?
You’re an arrogant ass but you kiss so well.
Crash had never heard Joan cuss at Rage. Stop transmitting and let me repair your damage.
Fuck you, warrior.
For some reason, her feistiness made him smile. It shouldn’t. Her lack of subservience was an indication that the connection between them coursed one way. She would fight his claiming.
When she returned to full health.
They kissed. Her damage slowly repaired. Safyre reached out to him, actively participating in the embrace. Their tongues tumbled, rolled. Her energy flowed into him. His energy flowed into her. They were a complete system.
She opened her eyes and gazed at him.
He stiffened, waiting for her to react, to scream, to reject him, for the waves of arousal radiating from her form to morph into terror.
“You would be a handsome bastard.”
She thought he was handsome? Crash blinked, unable to absorb her words.
“Say something.” She touched his lips.
“I’m an E model cyborg.”
“You are a fuckin’ cyborg.” Her eyes widened. “That’s your voice coming from that pretty mouth.”
He had a pretty mouth? He stared at her. Had she hit her head? “Are you damaged, female?” He threaded his fingers through her decadently soft hair, looking for bumps on her skull.
“Nah.” She batted his hands away from her. “I’m surprised. I assumed you were a human. I thought cyborgs followed orders, that they couldn’t make decisions on their own.”
“You believed we were unthinking machines.”
“Yeah, I did,” she admitted. “I don’t know much about cyborgs.” Her fingertips returned to his lips, as though she needed to feel his words, to ensure they came from his mouth. “You never planned to control the warriors, did you?”
“I planned to free them.” Crash nipped at her.
She didn’t retreat like a logical being would. She advanced, recklessly pushing one of her fingers inside his mouth. He sucked on it, tugging at her skin and her eyelashes fluttered. “Hmmm…” The sound would haunt him for his lifespan. “I’ve never heard of free cyborgs.”
Crash released her finger. “We don’t share that knowledge with any other beings. If humans knew we couldn’t be controlled, they’d kill us.” He studied her.
His eyes didn’t appear to bother her. Neither did his gray cyborg skin. That could be due to her blood loss. Her gaze was dreamy, out of focus.
Or it could be because she was his. Truly his.
“I won’t tell anyone.”
“No, you won’t.” He knew that without a doubt. As of this moment, she’d never again have any communication with her fellow humans. She was his. Completely.
Safyre lifted her rounded chin. “You trust me to stay silent?”
“No.” Crash didn’t trust her to do or not do anything. He’d guard her, ensure she didn’t access her former worlds.
She grinned. “That’s wise. You shouldn’t trust me.”
They gazed at each other for several heartbeats. He touched her cheeks, examining the freckles on her skin, tiny spots of color sprinkled like stardust over her beautiful face.
She was soft and round, gloriously female. His cock pressed against the confines of his body armor.
Crash bent his head and lapped at her skin with his tongue, licking the blood off her face, removing the remnants of her damage. She tasted like happiness.
“Your nanocybotics are bubbling and popping all over me.” Safyre wiggled on his lap, tormenting his aroused form with her movements. “They’re healing me.”
“They’re repairing your damage.” He nibbled at her skin and she trembled.
“My nose has stopped bleeding. I’m less dizzy.” She held out her hands. They shook. “I’m better but not one hundred percent healthy. How long will the nanocybotics last?”
“I don’t know.” If she were his female, the being who, through an irregularity in genetics, was compatible with him, the nanocybotics would never dissipate. If she weren’t, if the connection he felt with her was an illusion, he would have to transfer the nanocybotics regularly. “What is the extent of your damage?”
“Some of it remains.” Safyre touched the back of her head. “Fuck. I require more nanocybotics.” She tilted her lips upward.
He accepted her offer, filling her mouth with his tongue and his nanocybotics. She sucked on his flesh, ruthlessly taking from him, hungry, demanding.
His processors said she was using him, seeking repair. His heart didn’t care, giving her all that she desired.
It wasn’t enough, not for either of them. They broke apart. Her magnificent chest heaved, her large breasts testing the confines of her flight suit.
“Are nanocybotics only concentrated in your saliva?” Safyre skimmed her fingertips along his jaw and Crash gazed at her, enchanted by the passion in her eyes, captured by her gentle caresses.
“They’re concentrated in my saliva and in my cum.”
“The nanocybotics in your cum must be more intense.” She lowered her fingers, gliding them down the column of his neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of sensation. “I’d heal faster if I absorbed them that way.”
This wasn’t merely about healing. She desired him. He smelled her arousal.
“You want to breed with me.” He’d mark her with his nanocybotics. Every cyborg would know this beautiful female was his.
“Fuck, no. It’s too soon for that, warrior.”
If she were truly his female, it wouldn’t be too soon, would it? Crash gazed at her, uncertain about her, about breeding, about everything.
“But.” She drummed her fingertips against his body armor. “I could suck you off, absorb your nanocybotics orally.”
Crash’s gaze dipped to her lips. She would suck on his shaft as he’d sucked on her finger. His cock bobbed, anticipating the heat, the wetness, the decadent tug and pull on his sensitive flesh.
“Use your mouth on me, female.” He didn’t have to hear that offer twice. Crash stood, set her on her feet, and unfastened his body armor.
Chapter Three
Fuck her. That sexy voice over the transmission line had belonged to a cyborg.
Safyre gazed at Crash as he removed his body armor, revealing bulging muscle and more male hotness. He was a study in monochrome, his hair and eyes black, his skin gray, his model number inked high on his right cheek.
She kneeled on the floor, positioning herself between his spread legs. Crash wasn’t the human she expected him to be. He hadn’t corrected her misconception and that pissed her off.
But she’d be dead if he hadn’t been a cyborg, if he hadn’t been able to transfer his nanocybotics to her. She’d felt herself slipping into blackness, the humming in her brain growing louder, the bridge spinning faster and faster around her.
His kisses had chased death away. Sucking his cock, absorbing more nanocybotics, might extend her lifespan long enough to reach Nymphia.
That was the excuse she told herself as she glided her palms over his powerful thighs. In her heart, she knew the truth. She wanted to touch him, to taste him. The connection she’d felt with him hadn’t faded. It had strengthened, a physical attraction she couldn’t deny.
It wouldn’t interfere with he
r mission. She still planned to use the injector gun in her pocket on him and escape. Safyre had no choice. Her friend depended on her.
But sucking him off would lengthen her lifespan. She could treat herself to a moment of togetherness, a hint of caring before she left.
Safyre rubbed her hands over Crash’s skin, enjoying the definition in his form, the unrelenting strength, his distinct scent, a combination of male musk and the crispness of metal. She had thought a cyborg would be cool, machinelike. Crash was warm like a human.
He was also hard, his massive cock protruding from a hairless base. A dab of pre-cum already formed on his tip. He was the largest male she’d ever been with and Safyre was no inexperienced female.
“Stop taunting me, my Safyre.” He shifted in his seat, restless. “I need your lips on me.”
“Like this?” She licked his hip with her tongue, delving into the indent under his simulated bone. “Or like this?” She sucked on his lower abdomen, tasting metal and male.
Crash rumbled with discontentment. “You know where I need your lips.”
“Where do you need them?” She looked upward, meeting his dark gaze. His eyes were a flat black, without a trace of any other color, of that inner light most humans had. Dead eyes, she’d heard them called. His model scared many beings.
Safyre liked his eyes. They reminded her of the blackness of open space, of the joy of flying.
“Do you need my lips here?” She maintained their eye lock as she laved his shaft from base to tip.
He shuddered, his muscles undulating under his gray skin. “Yes.” His voice had lowered even more, an almost impossible deepness that flowed over her from her skull to her booted feet.
“How about here?” She swept her tongue over his cock head. His nanocybotics bubbled, fizzing and popping, escalating her arousal. Safyre had never experienced anything like it, his essence heating her mouth, throat, stomach, caressing her all over, stimulating erogenous zones no other being could reach.
She poked her tongue into his slit, searching for more, already craving him. He could easily become an addiction. She traced his rim and his fingers folded into tight fists.
Her cyborg enjoyed her touch.
She nipped at his skin and he jerked.
“Cease your teasing.” Crash lifted his ass out of the seat, presenting his cock to her. “Take me inside you.”
Safyre hesitated. Her gut said doing this, taking him inside her would change her life. In the past, that same gut had saved her from death, from harm, warning her of danger, of upcoming violence during the perilous missions she undertook. She should listen to it.
But she needed his nanocybotics and she wanted this, one last reward before she died. She was unlikely to leave Tau Ceti alive. At least, she’d a moment of sexual bliss to offset future pain.
Safyre pushed her lips over Crash’s tip, watching his face tighten as she sank down, down, down on him. His girth was manageable… barely. He stretched her, filled her. His length, however, defeated her. His cock head tapped the back of her throat, leaving shaft exposed. She curled her fingers around him.
“Fraggin’ hole. You feel good.” He tilted his head back and stared up at the ceiling for one, two heartbeats, his big body shaking.
Her cyborg struggled for control. Safyre remained still, her lips and hands around him, allowing him to fight this battle with himself.
“You must be mine.” His gaze returned to her face. “How could any other female please me more than you do?”
He was thinking of other females while she touched him. Fuck you, warrior, Safyre transmitted, scowling around his shaft, her pride piqued. She wouldn’t allow him to think of any being other than her.
Safyre pulled away, dragging her lips along him, and then plunged forward, pulled away and plunged forward. Crash groaned, his fingers twitching. The sound compelled her to suck him harder, to slide her tongue along his cock, to take him again and again.
An animalistic noise rose from his chest and he seized her, threading his fingers into her hair. “Yes, my female. Mine.” He guided her up and down his shaft, setting a heart-pounding pace.
She maintained her grip on Crash, ensuring he didn’t venture too deep. That worry was unwarranted. The warrior took her to the brink but never over, using her for his pleasure but not abusing her, his care warming her heart.
Safyre bobbed against him, his distinctive scent branding her nostrils, filling her lungs, his taste in her mouth. He thrust upward, grunting softly, his balls smacking against her chin.
She was as aroused as he was, her pussy dripping, her nipples tight against the fabric of her flight suit. Crash ravished her mouth again and again, his tempo accelerating, his fingers twisting in her hair.
Pricks of pain shot across Safyre’s skull and her excitement escalated. Sweat trickled down her spine. Her lips hummed. Her cheeks indented around him.
Her cyborg was close, holding back his release by sheer willpower, his countenance strained, his expression grim. She increased her suction and decreased her clasp on his base.
“Frag. Safyre. I can’t. Frag.” He drove her down on him, her teeth grazed his shaft and he bellowed, thrusting upward. Hot spurts of cum shot from his tip.
His essence touched her flesh, a wave of the most intense pleasure swept over Safyre and she screamed around his cock, her pussy clenching around nothing. It was too much, too good. She sucked, swallowing that part of him.
Tremors of ecstasy battered her. Safyre lost track of how many times she came, her form shaking, bliss radiating from her core, spreading to her legs and arms. His nanocybotics covered all of her, a thousand fingers caressing her body.
“My female.” Crash stroked his hands over her hair, petting her, his voice soft, holding a caring she couldn’t trust, couldn’t believe. “Mine forever.”
She licked him clean, every drop bringing her joy and extending her life. The cyborg implant no longer affected her. His nanocybotics had counteracted the damage it had caused.
If she gained this much satisfaction from sucking him off, fucking him might make her lose her mind. She rested her cheek against his right thigh, relishing the feel of his fingers in her hair, the heat of his body, the link with another being.
Safyre didn’t want to move. She’d been with enough males to know what she’d found with Crash was special, different, likely not to be repeated.
But her bond with Nymphia was more important than sexual satisfaction. She slipped her fingers into her pocket, curled them around the handle of the injector gun.
Crash planned to liberate his cyborg brothers. He wouldn’t risk their freedom and their safety, by landing the ship on Tau Ceti. She had to escape and find another way to reach Nymphia.
“I’m sorry, Crash,” she murmured.
“What are you sorry for, female?” He had enhanced senses and heard her.
“For this.” She whipped the injector gun out of her pocket, pressed it to his hip, and tapped the trigger twice, injecting him with the two remaining tubes of K-19.
“Female,” he howled, knocking her over as he jumped to his feet.
Fuck. The K-19 had no effect on him. Safyre traded the medical device for her gun, set it to stun, aimed it at him and fired.
That worked. Crash froze in place, his form wondrously naked, his mouth open, his expression dark.
He was furious with her, would be even more angry after the effects wore off.
“It’s nothing personal.” Not knowing how long he’d be motionless, she grabbed her pack and ran toward the exit. “I have to land on Tau Ceti.”
The doors slid open, revealing bloodstained floors and walls. The scent of death hit her and she reeled back.
A group of cyborgs were gathered around a crimson figure. It took her a moment to realize that male was Captain Kray. He pleaded for mercy. The warriors didn’t listen, nicking him with their daggers.
There were three of them. Two were J models with humanlike skin and eyes. One was a G model
with gray skin similar to Crash’s. The cyborg’s eyes were also gray.
Black eyes were much more attractive.
The warriors cut Captain Kray again and again, slicing thin pieces of skin and flesh from his body, torturing him. Safyre’s stomach rolled. She realized the male would end up dead, but she didn’t want to see it.
She slid along the wall, moving as quietly as she could.
She wasn’t quiet enough. The G model cyborg turned his head and gazed at her, his nostrils flaring.
She sucked in her breath. Would the cyborgs divert their attention to her, capture her, cut her, kill her? Her fingers tightened on her gun. They were faster, stronger, more skilled. She might be able to stun one or two of them, if she was lucky. She couldn’t defeat all three males.
The cyborgs didn’t step toward her. Safyre edged around them, slowly, carefully. The G model continued to watch her but none of them reacted.
She turned and bolted along the hallway, not looking backward. If they wanted to kill her, she’d die. She couldn’t outrun them.
Safyre passed more killing, more J model cyborgs. They looked at her, their gazes holding curiosity, but they didn’t approach her.
She didn’t know why they didn’t target her and she didn’t have time to figure it out. Leaving before Crash regained movement was her top priority.
His nanocybotics continued to bubble inside her. His taste lingered on her tongue. It wasn’t unpleasant, merely…distracting. She searched her pack as she ran, located a freshening square, unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth.
“Menace claims your hair isn’t natural.”
Safyre swallowed the square and coughed. She had thought she was alone.
She wasn’t. That damn G model cyborg had caught up to her, a boyish grin on his face. “He told me humans don’t have orange hair.”
“Says the cyborg with gray skin.” She had to lose the warrior.
“Menace is a J model. J models have human-colored skin.” Her unwanted shadow thought she was talking about his friend. “Why did you make modifications to your original design?”
“It’s none of your concern.” She increased her speed. “Go away.”
