by Naomi Lucas
His long, demanding fingers devastated her cunt and milked it until she bit his lip and attacked him back. Every moment sparked with pleasurable pain.
Elodie sank her teeth into him. “Please!”
His thumb abruptly pressed down onto her throbbing clit. Her breath hitched, and he brought her close again. She begged for more, hoping he would give her more. She released his lip and he rose up to catch her eyes as his fingers sped up.
They flared brilliantly red when a scream tore from her throat. Finally!
She climaxed hard and unhindered, shuddering and lifeless. Gunner lifted over her.
Elodie lost her grip on him and she pressed her hands to her face. Her nerves flared and died and flared again as her own pulsations cascaded from her pussy and poured through her being. Her entire body squirmed from the impact.
“So fucking good. Your good luck kiss... so fucking good.”
She barely heard him as her body continued to convulse intensely, then release to tense again. Her hips rose up and then back down, chasing the tendrils of her orgasm.
Gunner’s warm hand abruptly clutched her cunt and continued to prolong her bliss until her movements receded into a twitch, draining out the previous shock; every part of her was over sensitized.
A delicious breeze coasted over her heated skin where they had previously been plastered together. He rocked his hand between her legs, the pressure possessive, and she pried her eyes open to him peering possessively down at her.
Elodie shoved at his hand. “No more,” she whimpered but he continued on palming her clit, ignoring her, as his fingers toyed with her G-spot. And when she thought she couldn’t take any more she came again.
The tension between her legs released and she sank back to the ground, sprawling out over the floor, her limbs dropping bonelessly at her sides. Gunner pulled his hand away and stood over her drained body, sporting a wicked grin.
“Ready?”
“Ready for what?” she asked, uneasy, sated, and exhausted.
“For me?”
Chapter Sixteen
ELODIE RESPONDS SO damn good.
She gazed up at him exhausted and wary. His cock jerked in response. It knew it was going to do wicked things to her. He was going to do wicked things to her. Fucking her with his gun was his way to send her running, but she stayed. She accepted it, and with that, she accepted him. The moment he knew he was going to fuck her with it and that she was going to take it, he nearly blew like an untried Cyborg.
And his threat to penetrate her with all of his weapons became real. A need.
Her eyes were hooded, her willowy, lithe body on full display, and he clenched his hands an effort to stop himself from jumping her. Territory was important to him.
Gunner’s eyes fell to his bulging cock. Claiming and scent marking was part of his nature and it helped placate the creature inside.
Jackals mated for life.
Gunner wanted the smell of her arousal clinging to every inch of the ship. To him. He wanted her so badly it bordered on agony.
But first she needs to claim me.
“For you?” Elodie paused and drifted her arms over her chest, hiding herself. Her eyes widened. So prettily. Her beautiful short blonde hair fell in silken waves to halo her head.
Slowly, mainly to assure himself, he dropped back down onto her, resting his knees on either side of her legs than lower still to drag his heavy dick along her supple thighs, moving into position, aiming for her pale pink pussy.
“Yes, who else?”
She released a fresh wave of arousal and the excitement. Knowing that it was all for him pushed him into overdrive. Gunner pressed his hand back between her thighs, opening them. His fingers, re-wetting themselves with her dew, moved over her slick slit. Elodie’s legs parted and he moved to crouch between them. He reached up with his free hand and pulled her arms away from her breasts so he could see every part of her. So fucking beautiful. Nothing can stop me. Nothing will stop me. She’s mine.
It took more control than he thought he had to not fall upon her. To not stretch her tight cunt—a cunt that cried so beautifully for him—with his engorged cock. He could imagine it, almost feel her strangling him, as he leaned a little more over her. He pictured her begging as he shoved, one-by-one, every phallic item on his ship into her...except his cock.
Elodie leaned up on her elbows and wetted her lips and he knew she wanted to kiss him again. The look in her eyes was startling and it kept him somewhat grounded.
With his free hand he guided his tip to her core. By the gods. He groaned. The feel of her heat kissing the head of his dick threatened to push him over the edge. His heart thundered and the jackal cackled with more demonic, dark musings when she spread her legs wide open in preparation.
“Protection?” she asked, gazing up at him. Her arms slithered down to push lightly at his rocking hips. Keep the kisses coming. He could kiss her all day with his tip.
“We need protection!” she said again, louder this time.
Gunner grunted. “Not with me.”
Elodie tilted her head. “I can’t get pregnant. I can’t.” There was an edge to her voice.
Gunner pressed her back into the floor—dipping his tip in and out at her core—his lips quirking.
“You can’t. Can’t,” he teased. How much to divulge? “Not with me. I can pump you up with buckets of my seed and no child will ever take root.” He decided to be vague. The idea did hold some sway though. “Let me fuck you, Ely.” It was his turn to beg. He nudged his thick head a little further into her. “If you’re worried about what comes after or about being hurt, there’s no being in the goddamned universe that can touch you.” He moved over her to brush his lips across her cheek and over her jaw. “No one but me.”
The animal inside him howled in agreement but it prowled the edges of his control. It wanted to claim its mate. He just wanted to claim the moment. But the snarls were manic and frenzied in his head.
Elodie’s nails pierced the skin on his hips.
“So I won’t get knocked up from this—you?”
Is that really so bad? “No.”
Worry scrunched her features. “I just—”
“Just what?” He nudged his nose with hers.
She shook her head as a blush spread across her cheeks. “Just always have to be...cautious.”
He knew that. Regardless, he didn't like her words. Never with me. Gunner pressed his forehead against hers. “Not with me.”
A pent-up eternity ticked by as they stared at each other. But he knew the moment it was over when a soft moan escaped her lips and her hands stopped pushing him away and instead pulled him toward her.
Gunner placed a quick kiss on her lips before he reared up and moved his hands to hold the back of her knees, positioning himself so he could watch the moment he claimed her.
Elodie raised her arms above her head as his eyes dropped to where his cock was shallowly pistoning the entrance of her pussy. Mine.
He speared into her in one quick thrust, his shaft breaking the new territory of his mate.
She writhed against his conquest as a startled cry filled his ears. Her body fought his until it finally yielded. He had prepared her but knew the sudden onslaught and stretch would be a shock and he waited until the tension and strain left her muscles and her body gave way to his. Gunner waited until her whimpers were laced with his name and her core relaxed and adjusted to fit his cock: the biggest fucking gun of them all.
Me.
He began to move and she met him, the tempo rising as the heat of battle began anew. He recorded every microsecond of Ely succumbing to his beast.
He took and she gave. His hands shifted to clutch her waist as he readied to conquer. With thrusts that would send her sliding across the floor if he didn’t keep her securely under him.
“So fucking good,” Gunner hissed out again, grinding his hips flush against her, bottoming out, and lifting his eyes to her contorted face. “You’re so fu
cking exquisite and mine.” He reared over her again, taking her body with his in a rocking motion, losing himself in the moment.
They came together on the floor in a frenetic dance until he lost count of the time and her body clenching beneath his—until his own seed pooled on the metal floor.
Gunner nipped and kissed every inch of her, finding pleasure in stealing her breath while he drowned in her need for him. She was a well-loved husk, shivering under his frame where he could not only keep her trapped but also keep her warm.
He came again over her belly, her thighs, her chest, and he rubbed the musky scent of him into her flesh, half massaging, half-out-of-his-mind and doing whatever he could to penetrate her with his scent, his essence, his mark.
Sometime later, wrung out, he fell to the floor at her side with a wince of his own. The battle wounds he still sported and the gunshot holes had since healed over, demanding he remember that their time would be short. That the time in his head had only temporarily banished in the craze.
Gunner sucked in air, exhausted, and filled his senses and systems with nothing but the smell of sex. Our sex. He turned his head and gazed at Ely’s limp body, moving to wrap his arm around her and bring her on top of him. She mumbled sleepily over his chest as she shifted and got comfortable.
The jackal in him danced even though his body had been drained of his last stores of energy. The EMP shocks had vanished a while ago and what was left was nothing but the nuisance of his nanotech quickly restoring the damage the foreign tech had caused.
He lifted his eyes to rest on the muted streaks of light that ran across the ceiling. The distant sirens had ended some time ago.
Elodie’s heartbeat filled his ears.
The door that led to them was shut tight and locked. Gunner wrapped his arms around Elodie’s back and synchronized his breathing with her own.
Then, he closed his eyes...
And slept.
ELODIE WOKE UP WARM and in a strange state. The typical aches of her body intensified and the metal floor of her cell, usually cold and uncomfortable, was pliant and slightly moving under her cheek.
If this was a dream, she didn’t want it to end. It wasn’t the first time she had dreamt about beds. Or lying on them. Those were good dreams. But this one lifted her in waves, accompanied by the rise and fall of deep, heated undulations. Usually, beds don’t breathe, she thought, although it felt like so long since she had been in one that she could be wrong.
She pried her eyes open as realization hit, raising her head up as a wave of tension returned to her body. She was lying on top Gunner.
Her head slowly dropped back down onto his chest.
A slight breeze caressed her back.
She was also naked. So was he.
Gingerly—feeling like someone had rearranged her organs—she took stock of her situation. She felt both achy and limber. Her heartbeat was steadily increasing. She lifted her head again to look at the Cyborg.
His eyes were shut tight and it took her back. Elodie expected him to be staring at her—like he always did. With eyes glazed and dead, grey and gone, or scarlet red with an intensity that sped her blood.
Her lips twitched up into a brief smile. Sleep didn’t look good on him. She rested her head back down to the nook of Gunner’s shoulder.
I’ve never seen him sleep. It reminded her of the first day when he was unceremoniously dropped in the cell next to hers. She’d thought he was unconscious until she found out he was faking it. Something told her that he wasn’t faking it now. Another full body wave, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath her, lulled her back toward slumber.
Elodie fought it, wanting nothing more than to keep riding and enjoy the unexpected reprieve. Everything was blessedly silent and it was a luxury she wasn’t quite ready to give up.
Instead, she took stock of her injuries. Her back strained and pulled taut, probably from being pounded into the floor. She tensed her legs—tangled with Gunner’s—and her calves and buttocks sent shockwaves through her limbs. Sex was a sport she wasn’t well-versed in, but even so, she knew sleeping with the Cyborg was in a dangerously rough category all of its own.
Gunner had exhausted every fiber of her being and exorcised her stress. But despite the pain in her muscles, she was relaxed. She was safe—safer than she had felt in a long time.
Elodie didn’t dare let her mind wander down to the sticky soreness between her thighs. She was sticky everywhere. And when she stretched out her fingers then clenched them—also finding her hands sticky—she grimaced.
This time when she lifted up it was with a cringe because her skin battled her every second to remain attached to Gunner. She shimmied out from his arms and rose to straddle his body, bringing her legs forward to kneel on either side of his hips. Gritting her teeth the entire time. The feel of his cock expanding and hardening under her ass made her clench, and she slumped into position over him.
Then, she looked down at their bodies and recoiled.
After-sex looked delicious on the Cyborg. He still sported scars from the previous day, but most were already fading. His impossible physique captured her full attention. But for as good as he looked, the effects of their vicious coupling looked horrible on her. Gunner had laid waste to her flesh.
There were bruises all over her arms, chest, and belly. Some spots clearly showed the imprints of teeth while others the press of fingertips. Her palms ran up her gooseflesh arms and cupped the back of her neck, suppressing a shiver. Her breasts were pink and abraded and her torso was covered from neck to clit in dried sperm.
Memory returned of him massaging it into her. The feel of his fingers pressing into her tight muscles had been far too glorious to stop, and she’d been too tired and too sated to care.
Elodie knew what he had been doing. He likes his smell on things.
She smiled. Gunner looks no better. In fact, maybe he looked worse than her. Delicious but worse. His skin, still showing the wounds from the fight before with white ridges where they had healed over, was now having to contend with the scratches she had added.
How the hell he was still alive and breathing after showing up with enough bodily damage to take down a small bear, she had no idea. How he was able to have sex with her through it all was confounding, and her belly fluttered with butterflies.
He’s unkillable and I’m safe with him. It made her giddy.
And even through the burning pain, she wanted him again.
Elodie bit down on her tongue and dragged her gaze away from their bodies to land on the lavatory door.
Three yards. Three painstaking yards were between her and water. And cleanliness.
She placed a hand on Gunner’s muscled chest to start the horrible process of maneuvering her way over to the bathroom just as his eyes shot open—glazed and white—to look right at her. Elodie tensed as they skidded over her face to fall down to the rest of her marked body, and as he searched her, his cock jerked, enlarging further, where she sat on it.
She licked her lips. “Trying to get to the lavatory.” Her voice weak and raspy.
“Why?” His hands settled on her thighs.
“Because I look and feel like death.”
“Death looks pretty fucking spectacular then.” Gunner’s lips curled smugly. Elodie scrunched her face and frowned, wanting to hide from him, but instead rested her other hand on his chest for support. He continued, “Death suits you.”
He eyed her with hunger and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Don’t,” he said.
She grumbled a response and he grabbed her arms, pinning them to her sides.
“You look like you’re mine,” he told her, rising up. Elodie grimaced anew. “You are mine.” Gunner rubbed his nose between her breasts. “You smell like you’re mine.”
“That’s because your spunk is all over me,” she huffed dryly. But her heart fluttered. “It’s disgusting and sticky and it makes me not want to move with how it feels.”
; “And... good.” His nose trailed over her skin in circles and toward her nipple. His mouth brushed over it until it peaked. “I like sticky. Why ever would you want to wash it off?”
Gunner lifted her before she could answer and carried her to the bathroom. She clung to his chest as he hefted her up and wound one of his arms under her butt to keep her from falling.
Even if I did, I wouldn’t make it far. So sticky, she thought to herself, unamused. The air was colder here but the shower sounded soon behind her, and as the water warmed, Gunner walked them both into the tight, single person stall. They barely fit. He managed to make it happen.
Gunner washed her with the same attention he gave her the night before, worshiping every inch of her skin. His hands held her upright as his fingers drew the strain from her muscles. It didn’t matter that the water never rose above warm, because he warmed her in ways temperature-controlling technology never could.
Elodie slicked back the wet hair that fell over his brow. “We’ve got the bare minimum. There’s not even a soap dispensary in here,” she told him, having searched earlier.
“Wait here.” Suddenly, Gunner stepped out of the bathroom and vanished through the door, leaving a trail of water behind him. She slid down the wall like a puppet with its strings cut to curl up at the bottom, groaning from the strain, and nestled up into herself. He returned a short time later, holding a kit in one hand and a blanket and the other.
She didn’t argue when he lifted her off the floor and out of the stall and pulled her on his lap as he sat on a stool he’d dragged in. Gunner wrapped the blanket around her shoulders to soak up the excess water dripping from her skin. Elodie leaned lethargically into his chest.
“Where did you find this stuff?” she asked as he opened the kit in front of her, revealing emergency supplies and aid.
“There is storage container on the other side of the brig with supplies and there’s a crew lounge outside the machine room and before the elevator. I pilfered what was stored in the lounge, and unlike you humans, I don’t need to watch my step while skirting through the maze of steam and heated metal. Here, take this.” He handed her a booster and a water gel. She swallowed them both without argument.
