by Cynthia Sax
She talked as though she no longer included him in the group. That pleased him.
“It could be a coincidence that she touched this medic pack and became sick.” His female’s tone relayed she didn’t believe that. “I don’t know.”
He touched the item. It hosted genetic material from his female, many, many other Khambalians and…
His stomach twisted. “It’s covered with Candida deneb fungus.”
“This is significant because…” His female’s breath caught. “The medic pack was the cause of my niece’s illness.” Her eyes widened. “And I forced you to touch it.” She grabbed his wrists, yanked on them.
He complied with her unspoken command, removing his hands from the medic pack.
“You’ll become ill also.” Her voice rose. “By bringing the medic pack to you, I’ve killed both of the beings I care for.”
She believed she’d killed him. He was one of those beings she cared for.
Doc’s processors spun and his chest warmed.
No one had ever worried about him, cared for him.
Except her.
“My kind is immune to all known illnesses.” He reassured her. “We aren’t damaged by illnesses and we don’t spread them. Our nanocybotics prevent that.”
“I didn’t harm you?” She gazed up at him. “I mean no disrespect by that question.”
“I felt no disrespect.” Her concern for his emotions also enthralled him. “And you didn’t damage me. I’m 100.0000 certain about that.”
“You haven’t been damaged.” She blew out her breath, her relief palpable. “Thank the trees around us.”
His female hadn’t asked if she’d harmed herself. He doubted concern about her own lifespan had entered her processors.
It had entered his. “You host my nanocybotics also.” He skimmed his fingertips over her bare arms, reading her specs, confirming that was true. “There’s a 99.9630 percent probability you are immune.”
The 0.0370 percent probability she wasn’t immune was still too high for his comfort. He’d monitor her closely, breed with her regularly to ensure she remained undamaged.
“The Candida deneb fungus on the medic pack shouldn’t affect you.” He brushed a strand of her hair away from her face.
“It affected my niece.” His female nibbled on her bottom lip. “I know nothing about the Candida deneb fungus or the illness she has contracted.”
He searched his databases for more information. “The fungus and the illness share the same name. The first case of Candida deneb was detected nine hundred and seventy-two solar cycles ago. It can be fatal for beings with very few solar cycles, beings with many, many solar cycles, and beings with weak immune systems. Strong, fully functional beings merely suffer from fever and chills for a planet rotation or two and then they recover with no permanent damage.”
“Vauva has eight solar cycles.” His female’s shoulders lowered. “She isn’t a baby or an elder. She’ll recover with no permanent damage.”
“Your niece could have a weak immune system.” He wasn’t as certain about the girl’s recovery as his female was. “Your kind has been isolated from the rest of the universe.”
“There’s nothing weak about my niece.” Allinen smiled. “She’s as strong and as fully functional as a being could be.” She set the medic pack aside. “My sister was right. There was no need to call a healer. Vauva will be ill for a planet rotation or two and then my niece will be back to her former healthy self, rebelling against my sister, sneaking out of the settlement to chase ships.”
Doc didn’t share his female’s confidence. “I’ll derive some repairs in case that doesn’t happen.”
“Those repairs won’t be necessary.” She leaned forward, resting against him. “I alarmed my sister for no reason. Sisko, and her mate, Lanko, are tending to Vauva in my domicile.” She yawned.
His female was exhausted and had no place to sleep. “You’ll occupy this domicile with me.” He stripped the body armor from his form.
“I’d like that.” She removed her garment. Her nipples were tight. Wetness glistened on her inner thighs.
They would breed later. His little humanoid required rest first.
He reclined, taking her with him. She stretched out on top of him, the skin-on-skin contact pleasing the primitive side of him.
“Mates sleep like this.” Her voice was adorably drowsy.
“My kind doesn’t sleep.” He petted her long soft hair, smoothing the wavy strands. “We guard our mates while they rest.”
“Lucky mates.” Her words were barely audible.
“Lucky warriors.” He kissed the top of her head, his voice as low as hers.
His female was humanoid. It was doubtful she heard him.
He stroked Allinen’s arms, back, ass, unable to stop touching her. Once she restored her energy levels, she’d be fully functional. He had repaired her emotional damage. She no longer worried about her niece.
Or about anything at all. Her breathing had leveled. Her body had relaxed.
She slept.
Doc lifted her fingertips, pressed them against his. The information she’d gathered was transferred to him. She’d contacted one hundred and fifty-nine beings, 34.0471 percent of the population.
8.8050 percent of those beings sported small traces of the Candida deneb fungus. He frowned. That was high, considering the medic pack had been carried into the settlement less than two planet rotations ago.
But the community, according to his female’s comments, was extremely interconnected. There were few secrets and even less distance between inhabitants.
He completed calculations using those inputs. The fungus would spread quickly under those parameters.
More of his female’s kind would become ill. That would emotionally damage his little humanoid.
He couldn’t allow that to happen.
But he was ill-equipped to stop it. Self-doubt bombarded him.
He had no experience and little knowledge of treating illnesses. Cyborgs and their females consisted of 100.0000 percent of his past patients and they weren’t susceptible to bacteria, viruses, fungi, or communicable diseases.
His databases had been as lacking in relevant information when he first attempted to repair his brethren. Due to his ineptitude, warriors had died, had been decommissioned.
That wouldn’t happen now. Doc jutted his jaw. This time he would prepare in advance, retrieve information he couldn’t access while he was enslaved.
As his female rested, he retrieved intelligence about illnesses stored in external sites and reached out via transmissions to experts aligned with him and with his brethren.
Included in that group was the female of a J Model he’d met in the past. Few beings in the universe knew more about viruses than she did. He would duplicate her databases, become as cognizant.
Allinen looked to him for guidance. He wouldn’t fail his female.
Not now. Not ever.
* * *
By the time his female woke, Doc felt more in control of the situation.
He felt less in control of his yearnings for his refreshed humanoid. Her curves flattened against his muscles. Her scent teased his nostrils. Every breath he took pushed his chest against her taut nipples, soft breasts.
“I should return to the settlement, check on my niece.” Her voice was husky.
“I’m returning to the settlement with you.” He informed her of his plans.
She opened her mouth, protests written in her eyes.
“But first, we’ll increase your nanocybotics count.” He squeezed her ass, seeking to divert her. “It’s important to me that you remain undamaged.”
“I’m bubbling with your nanocybotics.” She pressed her parted lips to his left pec, her heat scorching him to his frame. “My count can’t be low.”
“It could be higher.” He rolled with her until she was on her back and he was braced over her. “Trust your medic.”
“I trust you.” She spread her legs,
tilted her hips, aligning her pussy with his rigid cock. “But others of my kind won’t have the same faith in you. Outsiders are—”
“This outsider won’t be seen.” He moved over her, breeding without entry, wetting his shaft with her juices. His machine remained in charge…barely, his organics challenging that rule. “I’ll hide in the shadows.” He distracted himself from his rising emotions by focusing on strategy. “Only you will know I’m there.”
“There are. Very few. Shadows.” His female’s breathing grew strained as she undulated under him, her slender physique rippling like water, fluid and pure against him.
Her beauty was too much for his beast to resist. It surged forward.
“There are enough shadows to conceal me.” That was all he managed to say before his lust engulfed him. His lips captured hers and their conversation ended, his emotions taking control.
There would be time for talking after their desire was spent, when the savagery inside him had retreated and his logical side governed him once more.
For now, he wanted to feel. He wanted her, his female, his mate.
Their tongues tangled and tumbled. He tasted her tartness, her passion, her caring, as he teased them both with full-body contact, gliding his muscles along her curves, his shaft along her feminine folds.
It was good but it wasn’t enough. Not for him. And not for his sensuous female.
He pulled away from her. She bit his bottom lip, elongating that flesh, holding onto him.
The hint of pain excited him. He growled his appreciation, his cock twitching against her.
His female released him. “You’re a beast.” She turned onto her chest, pushing him back. Her lithe form lifted until she was positioned on her hands and knees. “Take me like a beast.”
Her rounded ass waved in the air. Her pussy, a delicate shade of gold, dripped. Her back arched.
She was seductive and enthralling and his.
He was stunned immobile by the sight of her.
“You don’t want to join with me like that.” Allinen sighed and her ass lowered. “We can—”
He growled at her, not happy with her deflated stance.
She froze in place.
“Want.” He hooked one of his arms around her waist, elevating her lush backside once more. “Need.” Verbal communications weren’t his savage side’s strength. He showed his female how he felt, sliding his shaft over her feminine folds. “Hard.”
“Hmmm…” Her pussy grew wetter, soaking his cock. She swayed back and forth, moving with him. “A Khambalian male wouldn’t join with his mate this way.” Her tone relayed her excitement.
“Not your kind.” He prodded her with his tip, aligning himself with her tight entrance. “Cyborg.”
He clasped her hips and thrust, hard, into her slick heat. She screamed her surrender.
Her inner walls hugged him as he buried himself up to his base. His systems flickered, the pleasure of being inside her straining his circuits.
“Good. So good.” She moaned, that sound relayed through her to him.
The position would please his uniquely fabricated humanoid. He pressed against her lower clit. That tiny bundle of nerves fluttered over his shaft.
He pulled out, thrust deep, pulled out, thrust deep. She matched his rhythm, pushing back against him.
She fit him like she was manufactured for him…which she was. He was crafted for her. She was crafted for him.
They were compatible in all aspects – genetically, physically and intellectually, and he would guard her with everything he had, pleasure her in ways they hadn’t yet discovered, be the mate she deserved.
He rode her faster and faster, grunting his satisfaction. Beads of sweat decorated her skin, causing her to glow even brighter. He was bathed in her light, branded with her scent.
Reaching out, he sank his fingers into her hair, twisted the strands around his hands, pulled her head upward. She gasped, gripping his shaft with her inner walls.
Fraggin’ hole. He clenched his jaw. She would make him come too soon.
Battling his control, he bred with her harder. His hips smacked against her ass, causing that part of her to jiggle enticingly. She matched him in fervor, driving back when he drove forward.
Pressure formed at the base of his simulated spine. His balls ached, hovering on the brink of exploding.
“Mine.” He informed her, restating his claim verbally. “Mine.”
That word became his war cry as he pounded into her, shaking her body with his ferocity. He held nothing back.
Yet she didn’t break. His female was much stronger than she appeared, her lean muscles flexing. And she was demanding, requiring more, her cries echoing in the chamber.
He would give it to her. Layering his physique over hers, Doc ran one of his palms along her flat stomach, over her mons, threading his fingers through her private curls, searching for that spot that drove his female wild.
“Will be. Too much.” She trembled under him, his clever mate anticipating his touch. “Can’t. Can’t.”
“Can.” He circled her upper clit with his fingertips. “Will.” He grazed that sweet spot as he filled her pussy with his hard cock.
She screamed, bucking upward. Her back smacked against his chest. She clenched down on him.
He detonated, roaring her name, surging deeper inside her. Cum was projected from his cock head in processor-damaging spurts, the abrupt release in tension, the extreme pleasure, almost painful.
His visual and auditory systems ceased to function. For one heartbeat, he was encased in darkness, in silence, all of the input coming from his cock, her pussy.
He came and came and came, pouring every bit of himself into her. As he did so, he tapped her upper clit.
He was a beast and he processed that would torment his mate.
She twisted and writhed under him, reared up to be slapped down by his unaccommodating form. He wouldn’t allow his female any escape, would force her to experience as much bliss as she was granting him.
Which was almost too much for him to handle. His circuits were stressed from the euphoria he was feeling.
Allinen, being humanoid, was in a worse state. Her body shook. Her juices streamed between his balls.
When his systems rebooted, coming back online, his machine was in charge and his female was sobbing.
“You’re mine.” He pulled his hand away from her pussy and kissed the back of her head. “Forever.”
“I’m yours.” She sagged, resting her forehead on the ground, breathing as heavily as he was. “For as long as you want me.”
She had accepted they were mates. That pleased him.
She hadn’t yet accepted their mating was permanent. He would have to convince her of that—with his words and his actions.
“I’ll always want you.” He nuzzled against her hair. It was the softest substance he’d ever encountered. “You are my female.”
Chapter Twelve
When the sun rose, Allinen lay naked in her cyborg’s arms, sexually sated and happy, her body still humming from their third joining of the rest cycle. She skimmed her fingertips over the marks on his forearm.
“Tell me about the permanent damage you seek to repair with this.” She wanted to learn more about his healer role. It was important to him and that made it important to her.
“Chuckles, the Communications Officer, has a damaged knee.” Doc’s deep voice rolled over her. “No one has been able to repair it. Captain has damaged feet.”
She turned in his arms, wanting to see his face as they talked. “Your repair will allow Captain to walk again.” She gazed at her cyborg with admiration. That was a noble cause.
“Captain can walk.” Her mate pressed his lips together. “I didn’t realize he was damaged until I saw his feet.”
“You’re easing his pain.” That was admirable also.
“He claims the damage doesn’t cause him pain.” Doc eliminated that purpose of the repair.
She searche
d her brain for another explanation. “His mate is disgusted by his damage.” The opinions of mates were important in her culture. “She refuses to join with him.”
“They have one offspring.” Her cyborg’s tone was dry. “His female is breeding with him.”
Captain’s mate must also be enjoying that breeding. Unless outsiders were different from her kind, the female would have had to experience release to produce their one offspring. Allinen pressed her palms against her flat stomach. She had experienced release seven times during the rest cycle.
“Captain never asked me to repair his damage.” Her mate wasn’t thinking of babies. His mind was on his healer role. “I arrogantly assumed he wanted that…because the damage makes him different and the Humanoid Alliance decommissioned cyborgs who were different.”
Decommissioned meant kill in his language. “You no longer have to fear the Humanoid Alliance.” The more she learned about his manufacturers, the more she disliked them. “You’re free. And you are all different.” Allinen based that assumption on the three cyborgs she’d seen. “Different is good. You told me that.”
He had been referring to her when he’d issued that statement, and she had reveled in his acceptance, in his adoration, having never experienced that with anyone else.
“Different isn’t always good.” Her cyborg was more critical about his brethren and about himself.
“Your differences are good. Very good.” She allowed her appreciation of him to show. “They were why I approached you and not your brethren.” She pressed her mouth against her male’s bare chest. “You were a beast and I couldn’t resist you.”
“You approached me because of my beast.” He stared at her. “That side of me didn’t scare you away.” He said that as though he didn’t believe it. “It drew you to me.”
It drew her to him now. She rolled off her cyborg’s big form before she succumbed to her desire and joined with him again. “I’ve grown to appreciate your healer side too.” She teased him.
But it wasn’t said merely in levity. She had been worried about her niece to the point of nausea the previous planet rotation and his healing knowledge had calmed her.
