by Cynthia Sax
She dragged breaths of air into her parched lungs, her muscles straining. Drops of perspiration trickled down her neck. Her nerve endings danced.
She refused to come first. “Vengeance.”
He lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers.
“Love you.” She clenched around his shaft.
He bellowed, driving his hips forward. His base smacked against her clit. Cum shot from his tip. She screamed, detonating with that dual assault, her world blasted apart by bliss, pieces of her flying outward.
He pinned her hips to the sleeping support, secured her wrists as the chamber spun around them, the lights dimming and brightening, dimming and brightening.
Pleasure ravaged her body, her heart, her mind. She twisted and squirmed, attempting to escape, yet not truly wanting to be successful. Her inner walls closed around him and released, draining him of his nanocybotics-laden essence, the source of that soul-stripping ecstasy.
He shuddered, the roll of his shoulders powerful, his muscles delineated, his face stark, her cyborg’s release equally acute. That’s what they did to each other—pushed their satisfaction to the extremes, a point they could never reach alone.
She became still, her breathing leveling. He released her hands and she bracketed his cheeks with her palms. Their gazes met, locked, the adoration in his eyes pulling at her frayed emotions.
He braced himself upward with his arms. She stroked his face with her fingertips, showing him with her touch how much she cared for him.
Silence fell between them, broken only by their breathing.
Their relationship would never be easy. Their future wouldn’t be peaceful. Being a warrior, she loved that, wouldn’t want their future, their relationship to be any other way. She would test him. He would test her. They would both become better warriors, better beings.
And they would love each other. They had formed a clan of two. “I love you, cyborg.”
“I love you, human.” He rolled onto his back, taking her with him.
She lay on top of his big body, her arms folded in front of her, her gaze fixed on his handsome face. “I won our battle.” She grinned. He came first.
“You utilized a skill you hadn’t yet showed me.” He rested his hands on her bare ass, his hold on her reassuringly possessive.
“Which skill was that—clenching around you?” She lifted her eyebrows. “You’ve seen that move.” She’d used it in previous breedings. “You merely can’t combat it.”
“I don’t want to combat it,” he corrected. “It feels too good, but that wasn’t the skill I was referring to.” He spread his fingers, touching more of her. “You told me you loved me.”
Her profession of love had shattered his restraint. That was how much those words meant to her tough warrior. “I’ve showed you that move also.”
“You haven’t showed it to me during breeding.” His lips curled upward. “I don’t want to combat that move either. I will never grow tired of hearing it.”
“Is that a challenge?” She laughed.
“Yes.” He squeezed her ass. “That’s a challenge.”
He was a cyborg, could replay her declaration as often as he desired, but he wanted to hear the words again from her lips, and she wanted to give him that reassurance, wanted him to know the full power of her feelings.
“I love you, my warrior male.” She gazed at him, allowing all of her emotions to show. “I love your strength, your sense of honor, your caring.” She echoed the words he’d shared with her. “There’s no one I’d rather have guarding my back during battle, concealing my tears from the rest of the universe, holding me in his arms during our rest cycles. My heart, my soul, my gun is yours.”
He pulled her higher on his chest, brushed his lips over hers. “I will strive to be worthy of you, human.”
“And I’ll strive to be worthy of you, cyborg.” She touched his face. “I’m glad I didn’t kill you when I had the opportunity.” She joked.
“You couldn’t kill me.” His eyes sparkled. “You love me.”
“And I’m too slow.” She added the disclaimer before he could.
“You’re much too slow.” He chuckled, his chest shaking under her. “But a warrior I greatly admire recently told me moving slow could be advantageous on some battlefields.”
“It can be very advantageous.” She glided her fingertips over his lips, relishing the softness of that part of him. Another body part had hardened and was pressing between her thighs, reviving needs that should have been sated. “I could show you…if you’re ready for a rematch.”
“When I’m with you, I’m always ready.” He pushed his hips upward, elevating her. “Prepare to be defeated, my warrior female.”
She grazed her teeth over his chin and his eyes flashed, signaling his excitement. “The only thing I’m preparing for is victory.” Her voice was husky.
She shrieked as he flipped her onto her back. Her cyborg was taking control of their breeding, intent on winning this round.
Fuck, she loved him.
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If you enjoyed Taking Vengeance and would like to receive updates on characters plus a notification when the next story in the Cyborg Sizzle Series becomes available, sign up for Cynthia Sax’s release day newsletter at http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/05/28/newsletter/
Keep in touch with Cynthia using the following links:
Website: CynthiaSax.com
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Facebook: cynthia.sax
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Other Books by Cynthia Sax
Cyborg Sizzle Series
Releasing Rage
Breathing Vapor
Being Green
Crash And Burn
Defying Death
Chasing Mayhem
Jumping Barrel
Hers To Command
Ghost of a Machine
Seeking Vector
Knowing Zip
Refuge Series
Dark Thoughts
Dark Flight
Dark Strength
Dark Thoughts - Excerpt
The Refuge series is set in the same world as Taking Vengeance. Here is an excerpt from Dark Thoughts, the first story in that series.
* * *
Joan pressed her hands against the exterior wall panel of his chambers. The thick metal door slid open. She stepped into the firewall square. The door behind her closed and she authorized the interior door to open.
A buzz swept over her. No, not simply over her. Into her. She gasped, her inhalation of air drawing more of this unknown presence inside her.
It was too much, almost suffocating. Joan swayed, lightheaded. “Do not faint. Do not faint,” she repeated to herself, closing her eyes.
The rolling under her feet gradually stopped. She opened her eyes and wished she hadn’t. Crimson spray covered everywhere she looked. Gore was splattered into the farthest corners, hanging from the ceiling. Cleaner bots scrubbed the walls and floor.
This was why she felt dizzy, she reasoned. She smelled and sensed this butchery.
C899321, the being she had been told was responsible, stood in his uploading dock, a cable inserted into his nape, his towering form naked, covered with blood, his long black hair dripping with it.
He turned his head, locked his gaze with hers and she sucked in her breath. There were worlds of agony, of rage, in those bright blue eyes. This was no rational, logic-driven cyborg. This was a man, an animal, crazed by bloodlust and pain.
“They thought to pacify me with the use of a human female?” he thundered, his deep gravelly voice clawing across her skin, awakening parts in her she didn’t realize slept. “I’d kill you before I allowed you to touch me.”
This insult didn’t hurt her the way he’d intended. Joan knew she wasn’t the slim tiny female males desired. She was solidly built, good breeding stock, as her mother had once said.
She discarded his words and focused on the torment i
n his tones. He hurt. Horrifically. Her fingers twitched, the urge to reach out to him, to comfort him, tremendous. Judging by the flex of his powerful biceps and thigh muscles, by the anger radiating from him, he wouldn’t appreciate that response.
He also wouldn’t listen to any command she issued. A reprimand, verbal or physical, would add to his hostility. Some being had already tried to restrain him and failed. The reportedly unbreakable wrist and ankle cuffs attached to the frame of the uploading dock had been shattered, rendered useless.
Joan discarded four solar cycles’ worth of theory on how to handle malfunctioning cyborgs, realizing now that the academy experts knew nothing.
Her late father, however, had taught her how to deal with wild beasts.
“I would never touch you without your permission.” She lowered her gaze, showing submission, recognizing C899321 as the dominant male he was. He’d seek to harm any aggressor, to protect himself and his territory. If she wasn’t female, she suspected she’d already be dead.
“I also would never hurt you.” Joan stuffed a couple of cleaning cloths into her pockets and dropped to her knees, into a puddle of red. The moisture soaked through her flight suit. “I’m here to serve you, to clean you.”
She slowly crawled forward through the liquefied remains of the previous engineer. Having lived on an agri lot and spending the last solar cycle in the waste processing chambers, guck no longer fazed her.
“You don’t want to be dirty.” Joan kept her head bowed, her voice calm and soft. “That would interfere with your mechanics.”
She filled the silence with a flow of reassuring words, telling him she meant him no harm, that she was there to help him. Joan kept her gaze lowered, concentrating on his feet. He stood with them braced apart, preparing for an attack, ready to defend himself. His feet appeared human except much, much larger, his metal frame concealed with skin. When not covered with blood, that skin would be gray.
The current J models could pass for human, designed not to frighten the general population. The C models were clearly cyborg, from their giant stature to their unnatural skin tone. Some engineers found them to be scary and primitive. Joan didn’t. She associated C models with safety, with caring, with C345925’s unexpected act of kindness.
Joan knelt in front of C899321. Her heart pounded so loudly, she suspected with his superior senses, he could hear her.
Moments passed. She remained motionless, allowing him to look at her, to smell her, to become accustomed to the sound of her voice.
He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, signaling his readiness and she spoke. “I have a cleaning cloth in my pocket.” She held up her hands, showing him her empty palms. “Can I remove it?”
She waited and waited and waited. He said nothing.
“I told you I wouldn’t take action without your consent.” She wasn’t foolish. Touching a wild thing without permission resulted in death.
“Yes.” His voice was impossibly deep.
“Thank you.” Joan slipped her fingers into her pocket, slowly as to not spook him, and extracted a blue cleaning cloth. “I value your trust.” She opened the enhanced fabric, stretching it tight, allowing him to examine it. “May I clean your feet?”
There was another long pause.
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” No male should have a voice like that, like an endless night filled with decadence and sin. She resisted the urge to wiggle her ass, her pussy moistening, her nipples tightening, and focused on her task, cleaning his ankles, heels, every toe, talking as she did so. The cyborg lifted first one foot and then the other, allowing her to swipe the cloth over his soles.
The fabric sucked up the blood, rearranging the molecules into air. His skin was soft, warm, surprisingly scarred. Joan frowned. “Your nanocybotics must have been suppressed when you were damaged. There should be no marks.”
She traced a long slash on his right foot. It was an old wound. “The enemy found a way to do this.” That alarmed her. This flaw in his defenses put her cyborg at risk. “Why wasn’t this development covered in any of the information bulletins I’ve viewed?” Engineers should be working on a countermeasure.
“Are you mentally deficient?” His tone was harsh. “You must be if you volunteered to breed with a C model cyborg.”
Joan gritted her teeth at his assumption about her role. “I’m your engineer, not a breeding female.”
“You lie.” He snorted softly. “Your uniform is gray, not blood-red, and if you were truly my engineer, as you claim, you’d know my damage was inflicted by my previous handlers.”
“I was positioned in the waste processing chambers. That’s why I wear a gray uniform.” Signaling to everyone her lowly status. “And why would a handler hurt you? Our job is to ensure you operate at optimal efficiency.”
“Why would they hurt me? Because they’re cruel humans and I’m a disposable cyborg. Because I operated outside specifications. Because they wished to duplicate my kill rates. Do you need more reasons?”
They’d experimented on him. She gazed at his toes, absorbing this knowledge. Blood had dripped down his legs, coating them with crimson once more. “May I clean your legs?”
He sighed, his muscles flexing and releasing. “You clearly need to be told everything. I must be cleaned from the top down.”
She knew that. “You’d agree to me cleaning your face?”
“Do I have a choice?” His words were bitter.
“Yes.” Joan looked upward, meeting his gaze. “You know how best to maximize your kill rates. Within these chambers, I serve you.”
His eyes flashed with blue currents of energy. “Stop with your lies. I won’t believe them.”
“You’re bigger, stronger, think you’re more intelligent.” She lifted her chin. “Why would I lie to you?”
“I’ll test you, little engineer, and if you fail, you’ll die.”
* * *
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About Cynthia Sax
USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.
She lives in a world filled with magic and romance. Although her heroes may not always say, “I love you,” they will do anything for the women they adore. They live passionately. They play hard. They love the same women forever.
Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research, while they travel the world together, meeting fascinating people and finding inspiration in exotic places such as Istanbul, Bali, and Chicago.
Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled release day newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com
Keep in touch with Cynthia using the following links:
Website: CynthiaSax.com
Newsletter: Taste of Cyn newsletter
Facebook: cynthia.sax
Twitter: @CynthiaSax
Blog: TasteOfCyn.com
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