Cyborg Pool Boy: A Cyborg Shifters Short Story

by Naomi Lucas

  His shaft grew hard between them, jutting and forcing its way closer to her entrance.

  And then he was letting her go, letting her prone body slide down his, shaking and needy and not ready to endure the chilly night alone. “Nooo,” she whined.

  “No?” he asked, picking her up and carrying her farther away from the house. “I’d rather hear a yesss, oh yes, more, more! More!”

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered, blushing, her hold on him tightening. “And I do want more.” He took her to the side of the pool. The water was clear and flawless, no longer muddy and dark thanks to having been purified earlier. “I don’t want you to go.”

  He set her down on the edge and proceeded to strip next to her. “You say that, but are you certain you can withstand the attentions of a man like me? There’s an animalistic instinct screaming at me to cover your pussy in my seed, inside and out. I want to fertilize every single one of your eggs and drown them in my sperm. Do you still want me to stay?”

  Lucy gaped and twitched, her core clenching uncomfortably.

  He pulled off his jacket and threw it aside. Unbuckling his pants, he shoved them down and stepped out of them until he stood over her in nothing but his nanosuit. She pressed her knees together and looked up and down his dark silhouette. The shadow of his bulge was huge, even in the cast of the single dim light somewhere far behind him.

  “Y-yes. You won’t frighten me off.” She gulped. She lowered her feet into the water, hoping the cold would shock some sense into her. It didn’t work.

  “Hmm. Good to know.”

  He reached down and caressed her face, trailing his fingers over her cheeks and down to press into her parted lips. His index finger ran over her bottom teeth and she stabbed it shyly with her tongue, tasting his salty flesh.

  Lucy lifted her gaze to search for his but only found more shadows and hints of expression. She nuzzled into his fingers.

  A throaty moan escaped her when he pulled away, leaving her craving for more. Moss turned to face the quiet pool as his suit slipped soundlessly and completely off his body. The muscles that emerged from underneath had her fingers itching to touch him. Even her palms burned to press into his skin.

  “Watch out,” he warned, lowering himself into the water with just enough force to splash her.

  “You’re a jerk,” she squeaked in startlement, wiping her face. Husky male laughter filled the air as hands covered her knees, thrusting them apart.

  Lucy screeched as her hips were lifted off the ground and her pajama bottoms were tugged down. They vanished beneath the water. She tried to bring her legs back together but was stopped by a brute Cyborg holding them apart. Water, warmth, a delicious chill, and nerves sent her struggling up against him, hiding her abrupt exposure and her rapidly growing emptiness at the same time. The heavy heat of his cock slid up her inner thigh and her core again clenched around nothing.

  Her nails bit into his shoulders, and Moss’s laughter came to a stop.

  “Not gentlemanly at all,” she accused.

  His mouth came down upon hers and she allowed him to ease her into submission. His tongue brushed over her lips own again and again, slowly at first, soft at the beginning, lulling the tension from her hands, her body.

  Lucy couldn’t believe he was here with her now, kissing her into a puddle of sensation when she had been so sure she would never have seen him again.

  Moss cupped the back of her head and pressed her down onto the stone ledge as he licked her lips goodbye. The blunt face of his tongue slid over her cheek, along the curve of her neck, and only stopping briefly to tug her sodden cami up to reveal her breasts. He greedily kissed them.

  She arched, needing more, as he suckled them, lapping and nipping, and wetting them with his saliva.

  His saliva. She mewed. It filled her mouth and now covered her breasts. Lucy drew her nails over his shoulders and cupped his head. He moved down but stopped at her stomach, where his tongue now dabbed in and out of her navel.

  She writhed in the space between them, wildly searching for a happy end to the uncomfortable emptiness growing inside her.

  “I wanted you like this the moment I laid eyes on you,” he whispered hotly against her pelvis, holding her hips between his hands. “I can’t explain it.”

  “Please,” Lucy begged, not knowing what else to say. I wanted you too. “I know.” Her arms shook as she held onto him, her sex fully exposed somewhere between them, killing her a little more with each passing second it remained without attention. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  Devilish eyes pinned her to the spot, and his knowing smirk stopped her heart. Her belly quivered.

  “This one stays between us,” he said, grinning down at her disheveled state.

  Lucy frowned. “What... What?”

  He pulled her legs away from his hips and, spread her out completely on the stone. His wet hands slid down her limbs to cup her feet as he lowered his face between her thighs. Suddenly his probing sex-sequenced tongue stabbed at her opening, slipping in and out with incredible speed.

  She seized and orgasmed on the spot, crying out from the shock. Her moans became more unsteady and frantic as she tried to pull away. The sensation became too much to handle but he kept her where he wanted her, thrashing and bucking under his command.

  “Moss!” she screamed, seeing stars even though her eyes were closed. “Too much.”

  His deep laughter was her only answer when something big and wet and round covered her sex from slit to clit. She lifted up to see what it was but a hand to her chest pressed her back down.

  “No looking or you’ll ruin the fun,” Moss said.

  She could only see his eyes down the length of her body. “Your mouth?”

  “Don’t think about it.” His mouth enveloped her again. Hot, wet, fulfilling, and with so much suction. There wasn’t a tongue anymore, but there didn’t need to be. Instead, she felt layers of heat and nubs of pressure, all working together to touch every inch of her sex at the same time. He pressed and pulled the lower half of his face all over her, kneading, massaging, and conquering each nerve ending. Saliva gushed from his mouth, and he locked her into place.

  Along the outer rims of his shifted mouth, at the curves of her labia and upper thighs, she felt the steely pressure of metal moving.

  The overwhelming pressure left her as quickly as it had consumed her, but then it returned, hard, long, and overpowering. It nudged at her entrance and pressed into her. Moss moved over her body, his shadowy form blocking out the starlight as he began to pump his hips.

  A wild cry tore from her throat, raw and starving as the horrible emptiness between her legs was ravaged away. He filled her up slowly, spreading her wide, and claiming every convulsion of her climax. She shook around it, needing more and yet fearing what it would do to her, and what would happen when it filled her up.

  Moss. Lucy cried out silently, panting, and rocking her hips to spur him on.

  He released her legs and fully leaned over her, panting in her ear. She wrapped her arms and legs around him. When his hips pulled back, she moaned and moved with him, and when they shot forward, her backside hit the ground. She gripped him tighter as beads of water fell from his body to splash onto her own.

  As the sensation of one climax faded, another began to build anew. Something down below played with her clit, but she no longer cared to see what interesting piece of him had changed. The man breathing hard and raspy against her ear was all she cared about. She turned her face to the side and kissed his jaw.

  “Lucy,” he rasped, capturing her mouth and quickening his thrusts. She squeezed her thighs around him and matched his tempo, urging him to let his instincts take over.

  “It’s okay,” she gasped. He pressed her into the ground, gnawing and running his teeth over her bottom lip. His thrusting grew more frantic. “Do it,” she encouraged with another cry as wet pressure and a different set of strange alien-like nubs rubbed her clit. “Yes!” Lucy fell b
ack, shattering into pieces. Moss, covering her from head to toe, joined her in release.

  To call him grade A awesome wasn’t enough. She’d keep this secret to her grave.

  13

  M oss carried Lucy back up to her room where he placed her gently on the bed next to her cold cup of tea. Sleepy time. There’d be no sleeping tonight if I have my way. He was nowhere near done with her and knew he probably never would be. A Cyborg’s obsession was a dangerous thing to behold. But unlike him, Lucy couldn’t withstand the elements, nor did she have the stamina or endurance of his kind.

  He’d have to remedy that, but not tonight.

  The pool water felt good dripping down his skin. Lucy’s essence tasted even better. When he palmed his mouth this time, it was to spread it further around his skin. His hunger for her harrowed him.

  He silently backed away and into where he knew her bathroom would be, all while facing her, unable to take his eyes off the sight of the mussed-up woman he was about to claim again. He grabbed a towel off the rack and returned to where she lay, eyeing him back.

  In worshipful silence, he ran it over her pale skin to dry her off, leaving only the places he wanted wet to remain wet.

  Lucy looked up and reached for him, taking his thick shaft in her hand and pulling it into her mouth. He grasped her hair and pressed her pretty head against him, wanting to feel himself slide down her sweet throat. Spurts of seed shot out from him.

  “Little Lucy, playing with Cyborgs who have animalistic streaks isn’t smart,” he groaned, rocking his hips slightly back and forth. The smell of her filled his nostrils all over again, enticing his need to mate like the tardigrade jackass he was.

  He wasn’t lying when he told her about drowning her sex with his seed.

  She pulled away from him with a gasp. “I don’t want you to leave.”

  Moss narrowed his eyes and studied her. “I’m not going to.”

  “I mean. I don’t want you to leave. Ever.” She shifted her eyes from him prettily then flounced back on her enormous bed. He leaned over her, pressing his hands to either side of her head to scrutinize her face. A blush slowly rose from her chest to bloom on her cheeks. “I’m utterly ridiculous.”

  “I can’t leave.”

  She finally met his gaze, and he moved his knee to her other side, preparing to pin her anew.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “My ship’s broken. I’m stuck here indefinitely, at least until I can find someone to give me an interstellar ride, or has the right parts to fix it.”

  “You’re kidding me?” She tried to sit up. “You better be kidding.”

  “Not at all. I’m stranded until further notice. The parts are strewn all over the estate. It could take weeks to find all of them.” He pushed her back down.

  “How dare you!” She shot back up. And he pushed her back down. “How fucking dare you?”

  “Cursing now, heiress?” Moss couldn’t keep the grin off his face any longer.

  “You lied to me.” Could her eyes flare any more beautifully?

  “You are a bear!” She pushed at his chest, and his cock jumped. “Let me free!” She tried to wiggle her way out from under his arm. Moss scooped her up, bursting with laughter as he placed her back on the bed.

  “Never.” He leaned in to rub his nose against hers. “I mean, why else would I break my own ship? That goes against every code in my mainframe. It goes against Cyborg code.”

  Lucy stopped fighting him. “Ugh. You’re the worst.”

  He kissed her softly on the lips. “Or the best damned man ever spliced with the most invincible creature to ever come from planet Earth.” Moss punctuated each word with another whispery kiss.

  When she began to kiss him back, he knew he’d won.

  “I’ll get you back for this,” she threatened.

  Music to my ears.

  “I can’t wait.”

  EPILOGUE

  Three months later.

  Moss paced Larkswest’s armory back and forth, tugging and running his fingers through his hair simultaneously. There was a crowd of people outside, far more than any Cyborg was meant to deal with on a normal basis. This many people reminded him of the war. This was worse than war.

  This was a fucking first for his kind. At least, publically, it was a first.

  The armory door shot open and Nightheart strode through. It took less than a microsecond for his old boss to profile him. “You’re a wreck. This life isn’t for you. You should come back to the EPED.” It was everything Moss didn’t want to hear.

  “This estate has a bitch of an AI running it. I could have it stamp you out of existence before your next breath.” Moss no longer sided with the house. Lucy’s frustrations had become his own.

  Nightheart shrugged and straightened his suit sleeve. “Perhaps, but not without casualties.” The man sighed. “I don’t want you back anyway.”

  “Yeah, I heard you already replaced me. Thanks for not waiting a week. I feel so expendable. How’s the new recruit?”

  “Dommik is exactly how you’d expect him to be.”

  Moss’s lip twitched. “Can’t have enough small, gross creatures in your group can you?”

  “What can I say? The majestic beasts from the shifter project all died in the war.” Nightheart smiled. “Only us ugly sons of bitches are left.”

  “Too bad,” Moss muttered.

  “Too fucking bad,” Nightheart agreed. They stood around, comfortably awkward, as they shared a moment of silence for their lost brethren. “Well, are you ready?”

  Moss inhaled. “I think I am. Are you?”

  “Nah. I think I’m going to hang back and patrol with the rest of the androids.”

  Moss nodded and headed for the door, stopping briefly beside his old boss and squeezing his shoulder. “Thanks for everything, man. I mean it.”

  “She knows what you are, right?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Nightheart squeezed his shoulder back. “Then don’t let me stop you.”

  Moss grunted and moved away, pulling at the edges of his suit, not unlike his friend did moments before. Lucy and her world waited for him on the other side, and he was about to take a new last name, because, well, in his line of work, last names could be traced, and all he wanted now was to be traced back to her.

  “Oh, and Nightheart,” he turned to look at his friend, “I promised Mia a souvenir. Take care of that for me, will you?”

  Moss opened the armory door and walked through without waiting for a response. He took his place at the end of the aisle, the pool and all its beautiful glory at his back. He was ready to marry his bride in the only way a tardigrade such as himself could.

  With a real promise of forever and protection from any and all forms of world-ending disasters.

  To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till a death that would never tear them apart.

  M eanwhile.

  “He doesn’t know does he?”

  “He has no idea!” Lucy snickered, pulling on the giant water bear costume over her gown.

  “I don’t get it…” Her brother glowered, cocking his head from side-to-side while staring at the bulbous monstrosity. “Tell me again?”

  “There’s no time! Now help me get into this thing.” She pushed her face into the designated hole. “Zip up the back.”

  She heard more than saw Nelson sigh heavily as he closed the back of her outfit. The loose flaps of her costume formed around her and she waddled to the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

  “Perfect,” she breathed with excitement. It was everything she dreamed. “He’s going to faint.”

  Nelson grumped. “More like run screaming from the altar. Mom and dad would be so proud.”

  Like most things her brother said, she paid no attention to it. She was far too excited with the gawking horror that was about to ensue.

  She wiggled back and forth, e
njoying the flailing of her eight arms and legs.

  “God, you’re a psycho,” Nelson said.

  The wedding music began to play.

  “Ack! It’s time. Come take my arm!”

  “Which one!?”

  “It doesn’t matter!”

  They jostled about like lunatics but they eventually made it to the door. Lucy peered up at her brother and grinned. “Thank you.”

  Nelson scoffed and raised his chin. “He better really love you.”

  The door burst open, the veil lifted, and a terrible hush fell across the yard.

  “He does. He really does.”

  The end.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  I wrote this short story because I was fairly certain Kate needed a water bear romance yesterday! Then a story emerged in my head (took about five minutes to incubate) and I had to set Chaos Croc aside. Challenge accepted.

  This is also for the girls in the Romance with Aliens that look like Aliens book group on facebook. Join us.

  Chaos Croc, Zeph’s story is still on the way and will be out in the coming months. And for those who are waiting for Minotaur Two and Cypher’s book, they’ll be following after.

  If you love cyborgs, aliens, anti-heroes, and adventure, follow me on facebook or through my blog online for information on new releases and updates.

  Join my newsletter for the same information.

  Naomi Lucas

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