by Cynthia Sax
She kicked her heels against his wounded ass, urging him to go faster, take her harder. His eyes glowed, blue beacons in the dark. His jaw clenched.
“Fucking. Not breeding.” He repeated it as if he needed that reminder.
“Fucking. Not breeding.” She joined that chant. This was a release of energy, was natural, not wrong, meant nothing, wouldn’t change either of their fates.
They remained deadly opponents. She undulated against him, caressing him with her entire body, relishing the skin-on-skin contact. He thrust upward as he drew her downward, as though he sought to be deeper inside her. Her pussy hummed from the erotic abuse. Her arms and legs quivered.
He was a beast, a fucking machine, tireless and intent, his gaze fixed on her, only her. Other humans had viewed cyborgs as unfeeling weapons. Astrid had never believed that. She’d seen them fight. To be great on the battlefield, one had to have a passion for killing.
That passion clearly extended to fucking. He grunted, but not from effort. His body temperature hadn’t elevated. His form showed no signs of exhaustion. Those animal noises were due to enjoyment.
Astrid shared his joy, never wanting the encounter to end. She gritted her teeth, attempting to stave off her release. Her inner walls closed around him. Her trembling intensified.
She held on, digging her fingernails into his shoulders, but it was hard, so hard. To break first felt like losing, like conceding defeat to him, to her enemy. Astrid wouldn’t, couldn’t do that. She was a warrior, the last of her clan, the being others called the Buoir Berserker.
And there was no need for surrender, not when she could push him off the edge first. She clenched down on his shaft.
He roared. His hips snapped upward. His base smacked against her pussy lips, flattening them. His every muscle tensed. Cum shot out of his cock, those erotic projectiles blasting her inner walls.
Pleasure—pure, undiluted, and intense—bombarded her, her battle cry meshing with his. She writhed and shook, ravaged by fulfillment, the dark sky above her exploding with color, sound rushing in her ears.
He tightened his grip on her, holding her in place, forcing her to endure the ceaseless bliss, filling her with hard cock and hot cum. All of her bubbled, from her scalp to her fingertips.
She rested her cheek against his chest. The tremors shaking her form gradually eased. Her breathing leveled.
The sense of connection coiling around them, binding them tightly together, didn’t dissipate. It scared her, felt permanent, meaningful.
Vengeance’s actions didn’t ease her discomfort. He stroked her hair, that action soothing, caring.
Loving.
“You’re my enemy.” She said that out loud, reminding herself.
He stiffened. “You’re my enemy also.” He held her away from his body, breaking their physical link. “That was fucking, not breeding.” The brute tossed her into the river.
The water, after the heat of his form, felt like daggers of ice stabbing into her skin, the cold dousing her lingering satisfaction. She spluttered, swallowing mouthfuls of liquid as she struggled to find her footing.
Finally, she touched bottom and stood, anger replacing any soft feelings she might have had for him. She glared around her, didn’t see anything except the moons reflecting off the surface.
The damn cyborg was gone, had disappeared into the darkness.
“I will kill you.” She hollered the words at the sky, adding that vow to the many issued before it.
“You’ll kill me…with what weapons?” His voice originated from the woods.
With what weapons? She sloshed toward the shore. The bank was empty, except for her boots, the footwear neatly set on a flat rock. He’d taken her weapons and her garments.
Astrid sat on the stone and yanked her boots onto her feet. She really would kill him.
Chapter Five
Vengeance watched his female from the shadows, not venturing far from her side. He breathed deeply and his lips curled upward. She was his female. That was undeniable. She exuded his nanocybotics, smelled like him.
That pleased the primitive part of him. Every cyborg would know she belonged to him.
It alarmed his more logical side. He’d failed to resist her, the one being genetically compatible with him. Her pull had been too strong to combat.
He had to have her.
But he would break their bond. He’d prove to his brethren that was possible. Then he’d expel Astrid and the other human females from the Homeland.
A human female wasn’t essential for a cyborg’s wellbeing. She wasn’t required for his happiness.
He followed her to the domicile, trailing her silently from a distance. His female wouldn’t serve her purpose if one of the predators prowling the woods ended her lifespan. He had to protect her.
She was angry with him, her lush ass jiggling with each stomp of her booted feet. There were scars on that gorgeous part of her also, as well as on her back and shoulders—souvenirs of battles past, testaments to her warrior nature.
He had never fought an opponent like her. She was tenacious, creative, skilled, adorably slow—but that was due to her limitations as a human.
He wanted her again, his cock hardening. Being inside her had been the best experience of his lifespan. He understood now why other warriors believed themselves to be permanently linked to their females. Fucking her eclipsed the joy of fighting.
He wouldn’t deny himself…or his female. Her beautiful face might be twisted into a dark scowl, but her scent communicated she desired him.
His nanocybotics had already been transferred. Fucking her a second time wouldn’t alter the situation.
And it might sate his constant yearning for her. He’d fuck her out of his system, satisfy his need to touch her.
She entered the domicile, closing the doors behind her. That wouldn’t keep him out. He was a C Model cyborg, had the strength to break them down.
But she was human. Unlike him, she required sleep to restore her energy levels. They would fuck again when she woke.
He roamed the terrain around the structure, detonating more of her explosives, glorifying in that destruction. Ground shifted. Holes opened. Corpses were revealed at one site, the remains human, casually dumped, remnants of the planet’s violent history.
Creatures shrieked. Trees swayed in the cool breeze. He learned the land that had shaped his female. It was as wild, as savage, as free as she was.
She answered to no being, lived by her own code of honor, would die for her beliefs. He suspected every word she’d shared with him had been her version of the truth.
No warrior could resist a female like that.
Vengeance returned to the domicile, unable to stay away. His female had attempted to prevent him from entering the structure, setting up alarms. That proof she viewed him as the enemy soothed his guilt over his plans for her.
He’d been honest, open about capturing her, would safeguard her during her brief time on the Homeland, ensure no lasting damage was inflicted upon her. Then she’d be free once more.
Free to fuck other warriors.
She’d wrap her long legs around another male’s waist, bite another male’s chin. The cock inside her wouldn’t be his. She wouldn’t call his name. Ever. Vengeance’s lips flattened, that prospect filling him with an irrational rage.
Needing to see her, to assure himself she was still his, he deactivated her defense systems one by one, until he accessed her private chambers.
She sprawled over the sleeping support, on her back, naked, alone, needy. As he entered the space, her nipples tightened, her body responding to his presence even in her sleep.
Her breasts were large, would fit his palms perfectly. The short curls on her mons were as brown as the hair on her head. Her parted legs revealed pink pussy lips, glistening with wetness.
He wanted her. Now.
But she slept, looking too fraggin’ peaceful to disturb, her lowered eyelashes dark against her light-brown skin.
He couldn’t yet possess her, couldn’t reassert his ownership of his female.
Vengeance pulled some wires from the wall, stuck them in his wrist sockets. Energy flowed through him.
Standing at the foot of the sleeping support, he looked down at his female, and waited.
***
She stirred at sunrise, rubbing her thighs together, stretching, her back arching as though she offered her breasts to him. He removed the circuits from his wrists.
“We both need to fuck.” His balls ached with wanting.
She shrieked and reached for the gun set on the nearby horizontal support. Vengeance leaped forward, straddling her waist, knocking the weapon from her hands.
She punched him, smacking one of her tiny fists against his cheekbone. He caught her wrists, pulling her arms above her head.
“You sleep solidly for a warrior, female.” He frowned. “That’s dangerous.” If he hadn’t been watching over her, a being could have attacked her.
“I was exhausted from a full planet rotation of trying to kill my enemy.” She struggled, her attempts to free herself jiggling her breasts enticingly. “And I had set alarms.”
“Your alarms were inferior.” He bent his head and licked her right breast, tasting the salt of her skin.
She inhaled sharply. He fastened his lips around her intriguingly taut nipple and sucked, drawing her into his hot mouth.
A hurting sound came from her throat. Her musk intensified. His female liked having her breasts kissed. Vengeance switched to the left curve, adoring it as ardently, pulling on her sensitive flesh.
She moved under him, stroking his body with her soft skin, her yielding form. His female sported muscles, but they weren’t backed by a hard frame. They cushioned him, her embrace welcoming.
“I’m going to kill you this planet rotation, male.” She enwrapped that deadly threat in the husky tones of seduction. “But I’ll fuck you first.”
“Yes, fucking first.” He pinched her nipple with his lip-covered teeth and she yelped, her verbal responses exciting him. “Then fighting.” He laved that pink bud with the flat of his tongue, easing the hurt he’d caused.
“My scent on your skin will make you easier to track.” She ground against him.
He could track her anywhere, her distinct fragrance burned into his processors. Vengeance claimed her lips. She fought him, denying him access, her resistance thrilling him.
She made him work for every advance, and he loved that, loved the challenge of her. He settled between her thighs, seeking an alternate route into his female.
She tried to close her legs, couldn’t. His hips blocked her efforts.
She was his. He thrust deep, warmth surging up his shaft.
Her teeth parted, her breath wafting against his cheeks. He pushed his tongue into the gap, entering the sweetness of her mouth, his nanocybotics enhancing the unique flavor of her.
His cock was in her pussy. His tongue was in her mouth. He had conquered his warrior female completely. That triumph accentuated his bliss.
She was hot, wet, so fraggin’ snug, fitting him like a set of body armor, encasing his cock. He buried his entire length in her, slid his tongue along hers. This female was his. He would take her as a trophy of war, his due as the victor.
She lifted her legs, wrapped them around him. There was no pain, his wounds semi-healed, only the sensation of rightness, of belonging.
Vengeance released her wrists, since his female was no longer able to escape him, and he gripped her shoulders, holding her in place.
He drew back, her pussy lips dragging along his shaft, and thrust forward, drew back and thrust forward, fucking her hard, venting his frustrations, expressing his need.
She breathed heavily into his mouth. Her fingernails raked his back; those wounds were superficial, the sting exhilarating. She pushed her hips upward, meeting him halfway, his equal not in physical strength but in passion.
His female fucked as she fought, all in, with nothing held back, and that fed his desire. He took her harder, deeper. The sleeping support slammed against the wall, again and again, the bam, bam, bam echoing in the space. A fine white dust hung in the air like ash after a fight.
Her wetness seeped over his balls, the scent of their joining intensifying. Her breasts flattened against his chest. Their bodies warmed at the points of contact.
Lust drove him, but it wasn’t a random yearning. Vengeance wanted her, had to have her, Astrid, his warrior female, his gorgeous adversary. He pounded into her pussy, stroked into her mouth with his tongue to the same pulsing beat. Pressure formed at the base of his simulated spine.
She was close also, her arms and legs trembling, her inner walls constricting around him. Both of them were primed from a rest cycle of unsatisfied need, knowing what would come from their release.
He was a C Model, primitive, dominant. This time, he wouldn’t break first. He would push her into the abyss and then he would follow, catching her as he fell.
Lifting his head, he met her gaze. Her face was flushed, her eyes as dark as open space. She panted, her mouth open to him, the hair at her temple damp.
Fraggin’ hole. She was stunning, strong in her surrender, fiercer than any being he knew.
He could and would give her more. Vengeance thrust hard and swiveled his hips, rubbing against her clit. She shrieked, piercing his shoulders with her fingernails, her pussy closing around him.
He bellowed, unable to hold back, coming savagely, hot jets of cum propelling from his tip. Her cry extended, her voice climbing in pitch, and she fought him, battling the pleasure, clawing at his chest, her body bucking.
Vengeance pushed forward, securing his warrior female against the sleeping support, and poured all of him into her, his essence, his distrusting heart, his war-torn soul, forcing her to take everything.
And she did. She took him, absorbed his emotions, cradled his form with her curves, her skin slick from their endeavors. He gave until he had nothing left, his vision system dimming, and then he collapsed.
His female slammed her little fists against his shoulders. He rolled with her, his hold on her tight. She batted his chest a few more times and then gradually became still.
Vengeance ran his palms over her hair, smoothing the long tendrils, savoring the softness. He’d found release. His desire to touch her should be sated, yet he couldn’t stop caressing her, the prospect of parting with his female causing him damage.
They would have to fuck again. That was the solution. Eventually, he would tire of her, wouldn’t need her as he did now, desperately, his lust for her undeniably strong.
He would be able to let her go.
She propped her chin on his chest, gazed up at him, her brown eyes bright with emotion. “Does lying on your back hurt you?”
“Not greatly.” He’d endured more intense pain. “Would it bother you if it did?” He twined one of her brown locks around his finger, a part of him wanting her to say yes. “We’re enemies.”
“We fucked.” His female nodded, rubbing her chin against his skin. “We’re supposed to fight now.” She met his gaze. “Can the fighting wait until after I’ve eaten? I kill better on a full stomach.”
His lips twitched, her practicality amusing him. “I kill better when fully energized also.”
“Every warrior does.” She smiled at him, her face lighting up, and his big cyborg heart temporarily malfunctioned, stopping and starting.
She was so fraggin’ beautiful.
And for now, she was his. No other male would touch her.
***
They didn’t rush to eat, lingering on the sleeping support. The entire planet rotation was free for killing and capturing. There was no reason to hurry.
His female dressed in brown leather chest and ass coverings, the garments similar to the ones he’d stolen at the riverside. She slid daggers into the empty sheaths, guns in the empty holsters, her stash of weapons impressing him.
He told her that.
�
�I collected that arsenal over solar cycles, stashed it on a neutral planet.” She grinned, slinging a long gun over her right shoulder. “Good weapons are hard to find. When a warrior locates one on the battlefield, she’d be a fool to let it go.”
Good warriors were as hard to find. Especially female warriors. There were very few female cyborgs in existence, survivors of the discontinued breeding program. His nanocybotics had rejected all of them.
That intimate part of him had welcomed Astrid, his human female. His nanocybotics multiplied inside her as they spoke.
“While we were under the control of the Humanoid Alliance, we had no choice. We had to let good weapons go.” He shortened his stride to match hers as they moved through the domicile. The structure was sparsely decorated, as utilitarian as his chambers on the Homeland. “We couldn’t return with an arsenal we weren’t originally assigned.”
“You couldn’t upgrade after a battle?” She frowned. Her knuckles skimmed along his as they walked, that light touch pleasing him.
“We couldn’t upgrade.” He’d left many beautiful weapons in the hands of their dead owners. Now free of the Humanoid Alliance and their rules, he had rectified that situation, amassing a collection.
“When you face those enemies again in the Great Battle, they’ll be utilizing those weapons.” His female entered a nourishment chamber, poured two containers of beverage, handed one of them to him.
“Those enemies were thoroughly dead.” He, unlike the warriors who had conquered Second Buoir, had ensured his opponents wouldn’t revive.
“Of course they’re dead. No one makes it to the Great Battle alive.” She laughed softly, taking a sip of beverage.
He gazed at her, confused. “I wasn’t aware of any impending Great Battle.” Being a council member, responsible for the safety of his brethren, he kept himself apprised of all major wars in the universe.
“That’s where we go when we die, male.” His female rolled her eyes. “We fight endlessly in the Great Battle, waging war alongside our loved ones
“Cyborgs don’t fight in the Great Battle.” They were pillaged for parts when they died.
