Vicuska had been given the power to choose the cyborg she was paired with on this mission.
Her Rebel counterparts had chosen their warriors based on experience and skill. They naively believed they had a chance of surviving their assignments.
She realized she’d likely die. She also knew all of the candidates would be extremely skilled. Although cyborgs were half machine, their other half was human. Their pride would demand they offer their best warriors to the Rebel cause.
Trusting the cyborgs’ evaluation, she had a different basis for her decision. She wanted a male she wouldn’t mind fucking the frame off during the voyage to their designated World-ender.
At first, she thought her task was impossible. Based on the files she’d received, there were no ugly cyborgs. They were all handsome and fit and big. How could she choose between them?
Then she saw Arsenal’s image. His face appeared as though it had been carved out of rock, his features perfect, his expression blank…until she looked into his eyes. They blazed with emotion, with anger, passion.
Her nipples had tightened.
She’d played the recordings the cyborg council had supplied. His deep voice had strummed her pussy, spiraling her need upward. His curt responses had straightened her spine, the authority in his tones turning her on.
She’d watched that footage before every rest cycle, had dreamed of him, waking with her fingers inside her, wetness streaming over her hands.
Her cyborg was even more imposing in flesh and gears, his body hard under hers, his lips set in a thin, grim line. She wanted him with a ferocity she’d never experienced with any other male. Fucking him would be worth the sacrifice she would soon make for the universe.
“I don’t want to die with regrets.” She stroked his body armor-clad abs with her fingertips. “Not fucking you would be a regret.”
He clasped the armrests tighter, the metal bending under his grip. His knuckles were white. “You won’t die.”
“I might die if you don’t touch me.” She plucked at his right wrist.
He let go of his death grip on the chair. “Do human females require touch to be fully functional?”
“I need your touch to be fully functional.” She unfastened her flight suit, brazenly guided his freed hand inside the garment. His rough palm connected with her left breast and her breath hitched, pleasure coursing through her.
He stiffened even more, didn’t close his hand around her curves.
Did he not know what to do?
She placed her fingers over his, clenching and releasing, clenching and releasing, showing him. “Have you touched many human females?”
“A human female once wrapped her arms around me and pressed her body against mine, similar to how you clasped me when we met.” He maintained the rhythm, rubbing his palm over her taut nipple. “There were two males available and the other warrior had a female.”
“She chose you to touch.” Vicuska didn’t like that. He was hers.
“If there had been another viable male, she would have chosen him.” His voice was flat.
“I doubt your precious human female would have chosen him.” She wouldn’t have altered her decision. “Males aren’t interchangeable.”
“I am interchangeable.” Her cyborg’s reply was barely audible.
She looked up at him. While his face bore its usual blank expression, his gaze was bleak.
She blinked. He was serious. The damn male thought he was interchangeable.
“I studied hundreds of profiles while I was choosing a cyborg partner for this mission.” She shared that truth with him. “Your profile was the only one that turned me on.”
“Is that a unique state for you?” He tilted his head. “You were turned on when your shuttle craft docked.”
Fuck. Cyborgs did have acute senses. Her face heated.
“I was thinking of you when my shuttle craft docked.” Waiting until their arranged meeting time had been torture. “I was envisioning your big hands on my breasts, your weight pressing me into the sleeping support, your cock filling me.”
He paused for a heartbeat. His eyes flashed with need. He then resumed working her breast with his right hand, his pace faster, his clasp more intense.
His expression didn’t alter. She wondered if it ever did. Would he maintain that same mask of indifference when he came?
The challenge of pushing him to the breaking point appealed to her.
She slowly rocked her hips, rubbing her cloth-covered pussy over his body armor-clad cock. His muscles flexed under her ass.
“You’re huge.” Her voice was husky. “I’d grip you tightly, my softness all around you as you pumped in and out of me.”
His nostrils flared. Did he smell her wanting state?
“I’d be wet and slick…like I am now.” She tormented both of them. “My pussy juices would stream between your balls. You’d smell of—”
Metal shrieked.
He’d ripped the armrest off the chair.
She quashed her smug smile. “That’s not what you want to touch, cyborg.”
She tugged the remnants of the armrest out of his hold and tossed it away. The scrap of metal bounced off the floor tiles.
“This is what you need.” She slid his hand inside her flight suit, placed his left palm on her right breast.
He clenched and released without any additional coaxing from her. The dual assault caused her to squirm.
“Look at me.” She shrugged out of her garment. It fell to her waist. Cool air rushed over her heated skin. “See what you do to me.”
His gaze lowered, his perusal of her bare chest thrilling her.
“Those are your hands on my breasts, not another male’s.” She arched her back, pushing her curves against his palms. “You make my nipples taut.”
He pinched her sensitive flesh; that tantalizing pain drawing a low whine from her throat. “We should stop.”
“No stopping.” She gripped his shoulders, preventing him from retreating. “I need you.”
“If we progress further, I’ll mark you.” His eyes gleamed. “No other cyborg will touch you after that.”
“I don’t want any other cyborg.” She had chosen him. “I want you, only you.”
“Only me.” He gazed at her.
Moments passed.
A rumble climbed up his big form, breaking the silence. The sound grew louder and louder.
“I can’t resist you, female.” He bent his head. “I have to have you.”
Would he take her now? Her heart beat hard against her chest.
He closed those grim lips of his around her right nipple and she sucked in her breath, sensation bombarding her. It felt as though a thousand mouths were tugging on her flesh.
The experience was so good it scared her. “Arsenal?”
“Those are my nanocybotics.” He ravished her left nipple as ardently. “They heal, pleasure, claim. Other cyborgs will detect them.”
“They’ll know I’m yours.” She would belong to someone, to him. “That you kissed me, touched me, fucked me.”
If they were separated during their mission, she wouldn’t die alone. That part of him would be with her.
She wanted that, wanted him. “Mark me, cyborg.”
“I’ll claim you.” He drew her curves into his mouth, coating her with that unique part of him.
She threaded her fingers through his short black hair, holding him to her. Being with him was right. She knew that as she’d known he was the male for her.
Her cyborg lifted her, stripped off her flight suit, leaving her naked except for the boots on her feet. He then yanked the body armor off his own form, rougher with himself than he was with her.
Her skin connected with his and she moaned. He was perfect, didn’t have a scar or blemish on him, his muscles defined, his fit physique smooth, devoid of hair.
The bulge in his body armor hadn’t been deceiving. He was long and thick, as rigidly straight as his personality.
She undulated against him, sliding her intimate lips over his shaft, coating him with her wetness. He mouthed along her chest, collarbone, and neck, spreading his nanocybotics. The bubbling was exhilarating.
They fucked without penetrating, teasing each other. She explored his body with her pussy, her fingers, her lips. Her cyborg tasted like metal and male, an addictive combination.
His responses to her touch riveted her. She licked his pecs and he shuddered. Dragging her fingertips over his abs caused them to ripple.
His countenance grew starker with each caress. She reached between them and circled the tip of his cock.
Another human female might have hugged him but no one would ever handle him like she did. She would shut down his processors, make him holler with satisfaction. That was her mission.
She moved up and down, enveloping his shaft with her pussy folds, tapping his cock head with her fingertips. His jaw clenched. A bead of pre-cum formed on his slit.
She swept her thumbs over him. Stars. She quivered. He bubbled there too.
“I need you inside me.” She had to experience all of him.
He cupped her ass, raised her until her entrance was aligned with his tip. “You belong to me.” He drove her down on him.
She squeaked, her body stretched to its limits. One moment she was empty. The next moment she was stuffed with hard cock.
“Did I damage you, female?” Her cyborg became still.
“I’ll recover.” She forced a smile. “Give me a moment to adjust to you.”
“I will wait as long as you require me to wait.” He rested his big palms on her thighs.
She found his patience a bit unsettling. Most males were in a hurry to come. “Do you never lose control?”
“If a cyborg loses control, he dies.” His voice was flat. “And…” He lowered his gaze.
“And?” She searched his face, looking for that second reason.
His expression was devoid of all emotion. There was no sign of desire, of frustration, of need.
“And you don’t want me. Not truly.” Her stomach twisted. That was the truth he couldn’t say to her. “Your cock is hard but that means nothing. You’re a cyborg. You’re programmed to respond this way to every female. The female who hugged you made you react. I—”
He placed one of his index fingers over her lips. She stopped talking.
“I want to please you.” He stroked her bottom lip back and forth, back and forth. “That’s why I’ve maintained control.”
“Oh.” She stared at him, not expecting that answer. “Then you don’t respond to every female this way?”
“I’ve never responded to any female this way.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “You aren’t replaceable, Vicuska. It defies logic that you would process yourself to be that way. You’re the most gorgeous being in the universe.”
The solemn way he said that made her smile. “You haven’t seen every being in the universe.”
“There’s no one like you.” He pushed a lock of her hair away from her face. “I can say that with 99.9687 percent certainty.”
She opened her mouth to make a flippant response. Her cyborg surged forward and covered her lips with his, that kiss stealing the thoughts from her mind. She surrendered to him. He ventured even deeper, exploring, conquering.
Their tongues touched, twined, tumbled. His breath mingled with hers. His nanocybotics tingled inside her.
He sank his fingers into her curls, holding her to him as their mouths meshed. Connection flowed from him to her and back again, binding them together as solidly as any chains.
Her pussy loosened around his cock. She raised her ass as high as she could and fell, raised her ass and fell, the fucking shallow and slow.
He dragged his lips over her chin, grazing her skin with his teeth. She panted, desire coiling around her chest, squeezing, squeezing. Her muscles strained. She couldn’t lift herself high enough.
Her cyborg must have read her frustration. He assisted her, elevating her to his tip and then slamming her down. Their bodies collided, a tantalizing heat radiating from the points of contact.
“Good. So good.” Sweat dripped along her spine, slipped between her ass cheeks.
Arsenal’s eyes glowed brighter and brighter. His biceps bulged. He thrust upward as she descended, giving her more force.
If this was to be her very last fuck, she’d die a satisfied female. Her warrior reached places inside her no one else had, handled her with a thrilling ferocity, gazed at her as though she were the most exquisite creature he’d ever encountered.
He was a male she could love…if they had the lifespan remaining to do that. She rode him with renewed urgency, fleeing from the specter of their impending deaths, the cruel grasp of fate.
Her arms and legs trembled. Her pussy constricted around her cyborg’s shaft.
“Can’t. Control. My form.” His hands balled in her hair. He pulled on the strands, the tinge of pain exciting her.
“Don’t hold back.” She was teetering on the edge of release, wanted him to fall with her. “Give me all of you, cyborg.”
“Can’t.” His fucking grew wild, his rhythm random. “Can’t.”
They crashed together and then parted. She gripped his shoulders. Her nipples slapped his chest. Her ass smacked his thighs. The chair creaked under them.
If a cyborg loses control, he dies, Arsenal had told her.
He remained alive. That meant this was a first for her warrior.
No other being had ever viewed him like this, his restraint completely stripped. He revealed that vulnerability to only her.
“Female?” His gaze met hers. Raw, intense passion shone from his eyes.
Her cyborg was asking for more. She clenched down on his shaft.
He howled and drove upward, the savagery of his response stealing her breath. Hard spurts of cum shot out of his tip, splattered against her inner walls.
She screamed and raked his chest with her fingernails, fighting his grip on her, the pleasure too much. It was tearing her apart.
He clamped his fingers down on her hips and held her in place, forcing her to take all of him, every drop of his essence, every bit of bliss he relayed.
His nanocybotics spread through her, traveling from her core to her extremities, delivering euphoria to every part of her. He gave her more and more, the ecstasy building up, up, up, cresting and then gradually subsiding.
She sagged against his chest. The pink trails in his skin were already fading. Her wildness wouldn’t cause her cyborg permanent pain.
He wrapped his arms around her, rested his chin on top of her head. They remained like that for several moments.
She listened to the triple beating of his heart. He petted her hair, smoothing the unruly curls.
“I thought I had experienced this but I was wrong,” he said softly. “So very wrong.”
“Experienced…what?” She gazed up at him. “Fucking?”
He shook his head. “Happiness.”
Oh, fuck. Her heart squeezed. “You’re happy?”
“This is the happiest moment of my lifespan.” His tone was flat.
She studied his countenance. Gold specks glittered in his eyes. His grim expression hadn’t changed.
“Some beings smile when they’re happy.” She demonstrated that for him.
He touched her upturned lips. “Cyborgs have been killed for smiling.”
Her joy flickered. Both of them had pasts filled with death and pain.
“You can smile with me.” She bracketed his handsome face with her hands. “You can lose control with me. I’ll protect you.”
“You’ll protect me?” He scoffed. “You’re tiny and human.”
“This tiny human is leading our mission, isn’t she?” She lifted her chin.
“You’re not leading our mission.” His chest shook, the slight movement perceptible only because she was pressed against him. “I’m leading it.
She dropped her hands and narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Cyborgs have been killed for laughing.” He said that without emotion.
The damn cyborg was laughing at her. She was certain about that now. “A certain cyborg will be killed if he laughs at the leader of his mission.”
“That won’t happen as he’s the being leading the mission.” Arsenal grasped her hands, placed them back on his face. “And you’ll protect me if I laugh.”
“I will protect you.” She stroked his cheeks. His eyes lost focus, his contentment with her touch dissipating her irritation. “That’s what leaders do.”
He said nothing.
But she knew he was smiling on the inside.