Dark Fire

by Cynthia Sax

  “Those other parts will have to wait.” She glided the cloth between his pecs. “This will take time.” She snapped the fabric across his flat male nipples and he sucked in his breath. “I have a lot of love to show.”

  She navigated the defined muscles over his stomach, teasing him, seeking to drive him wild. His form stiffened more and more with each touch.

  She reached his hips and his abs twitched. A rumble rolled up his chest, vibrating his scales.

  “Mate.” His voice deepened.

  His beast was fighting him for control. She wiggled her ass, anticipating a fierce fuck once his restraint broke. “You will stay still, warrior.”

  “Can’t.” He jutted his jaw.

  “You can.” She dropped to her knees before him. “And you will.”

  Her mate was an intelligent male. He must know how he’d be rewarded.

  She tugged on what was left of his ass coverings. The leather was torn. His cock sprang free, as eager as she was for this encounter.

  His tip was a breath away from her lips. She opened her mouth slightly and looked up at him. “Does this part of you require love too?”

  “Yes.” Dare’s eyes blazed. His fingers curled into huge fists.

  He was one step closer to combusting. She smiled, intoxicated by his response to her. “You’re not as dirty here.” His garment had blocked the grime. “So we have a choice. I could use my hands.”

  She wrapped the soft cleaning cloth around his cock. He was long and thick and hard, filling her palms. She pumped him once, twice. His knuckles whitened.

  “Or I could use my tongue.” She licked the dab of pre-cum beading on his tip. He tasted hot and delicious, a combination she craved. “And my mouth.”

  She stretched her lips around his girth, taking him into her up to his rim, and sucked gently. He groaned, the scaled skin over his face pulling tight.

  “Mouth.” He exhaled smoke. “Use your mouth.”

  Having known he’d choose that option, she swallowed a laugh and tossed the cleaning cloth aside. “First, I’ll use my tongue.” She circled his base with her fingers, holding him still, and swiped the flat of her tongue along his length.

  His claws extended, that hint of danger turning her on. She was safe with him. Neither part of her warrior, his humanoid side nor his beast, would ever harm her…more than she wished to be harmed. But the thought of pleasuring such a lethal being excited her.

  She traced her tongue under his rim, nibbling on the tiny scales. He gazed down at her, an inferno in his eyes. Seeking more of his essence, she explored his slit, venturing as far as she could into him.

  His body belonged to her. She was his mate, the female he loved, and she basked in that role, taking advantage of it, of him, pushing her Dracheon to the edge of breaking. The fire-touched taste of him coated her mouth.

  “I’ll use my tongue everywhere.” She bombarded his balls with the lightest of flicks, each brief contact causing him to twitch. “And then I’ll use more.”

  She drew first one and then the other into her mouth, rolling them, tormenting him with sensation until he growled, that animalistic sound warming her chest.

  She released him with a pop. “Do you feel my love, mate?”

  “I feel your love too much, Faylee.” He spread his claws, the deadly tips catching the light. “My balls are ready to explode.”

  She grinned. “I’ll show you more love.” She returned her attention to his cock. “I don’t know how much more.” Eying his size, she felt a tinge of uncertainty about her ability to satisfy him. “You’re huge.”

  “And you’re tiny.” He widened his stance. “Seeing you kneeling before me, your big brown eyes looking up at me through those long black lashes, your lush lips around my cock…” He shuddered. “I could come from that sight alone.”

  Her trepidation evaporated. If he was that close, bringing him to climax should be an easy task.

  “Don’t come now.” She increased her hold on his base. “I have to lavish more of my love upon you.”

  “Your love will kill me.” The lift of his lips belied those grumbled words. Her male didn’t appear to mind dying that way.

  “Don’t move your hips.” She liked the back of her throat where it was.

  “I won’t move my hips as long as you move your hot mouth over me.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Soon.” He added that requirement.

  Her mate was in a bad way.

  She planned to make his situation worse. Faylee pushed her lips over his tip. Her previous brief taste of cock sucking hadn’t lied. He filled her mouth to the edge of discomfort, pressing against her tongue.

  Determined to conquer her mate’s huge cock, she took him deeper and deeper, venturing forward slowly, cautiously. He rumbled, his big body shaking, but he didn’t otherwise move, keeping his promise.

  His tip tapped the back of her throat. Fuck. She couldn’t do it.

  Defeated by his vast expanse of shaft, she covered the rest of him with her hands. Would that combination satisfy her mate? She gazed up at him.

  Dare’s face was barely visible through the cloud of smoke. His chest heaved. Every muscle in his body was flexed, hard.

  The length she’d taken was enough to please him. Faylee smiled around his cock. He teetered on the edge of release, pulsing in her mouth.

  She drew back and surged forward, drew back and surged forward, adoring that part of her mate, loving the feel of him.

  Loving him.

  None of her emotions were hidden as she worked his cock. Her soul was bared, her heart exposed. She trusted him with everything, her identity, her desires, her future.

  He understood her, realized, as she did, how rare love was. The solitude of their pasts, the loneliness they’d experienced before finding each other had taught them the value of the connection they now had. Their love was valuable. It was extraordinary. It was lasting, as timeless as the beast inside her mate, as unwavering as his honor.

  Their passion spiraled upward. Dare’s body temperature also rose. He was hot, so hot. The wetness on her tongue evaporated. Her nipples tightened. Her pussy throbbed with need.

  She fucked him with her mouth, taking him again and again, her tempo increasing with each slide of her lips. He grunted as though it was physically strenuous for him to remain still, as though it was a test he was intent on passing

  Perspiration trickled down the back of Faylee’s neck. Her chin smacked against his balls. She breathed in the smoky scent of him, the aroma primal and male.

  “Love.” His voice stretched with desire as she bobbed against him. “Love.” He repeated that word again and again, branding his devotion onto her heart.

  Silenced by his rigid cock, she showed rather than spoke her adoration, licking, sucking, nuzzling him. Her gaze locked with his through the haze.

  His fervor escalated. His balls hugged his shaft. His cock swelled.

  She retreated, unable to handle the increase in size. It was time to push him over the edge, to give him the release both of them were craving.

  She sealed her lips around his tip. Fire flared in her male’s eyes. She folded her fingers over his balls and squeezed.

  “Mate.” He roared, flames filling the air. Scorching hot cum blasted the back of her throat. Bliss, intense and raw, followed the heat.

  She screamed around his cock, coming with a mind-shattering intensity. His essence filled her mouth. She swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, each gulp pulling more from his tip.

  A wave of ecstasy, of warmth, swept upward, breaking over her stomach, her breasts, her face. She sucked as he shook, his biceps bulging, his thigh muscles tight.

  “Love.” His legs buckled. He fell to his knees, his cock slipping from her mouth. “Love.” He pulled her to him, shuddering.

  She flattened her palms against his chest. He strapped his arms around her trembling body. They held each other, their hearts pounding in unison, their breathing synchronized.

 
“This is love.” Faylee smiled, dazed with happiness. “This is how I feel about you.” Love was trust and belonging, strength and surrender, passion and protectiveness. He was the one being she’d follow anywhere, the one being she couldn’t live without.

  “This is love.” Dare lifted his head and met her gaze. The flames in his eyes were lower, his fire banked by release, soft yet still burning. “This is how I feel about you.”

  He covered her lips with his. She tasted of him. That didn’t stop her primitive male. He pushed his tongue between her lips, plundering her mouth with wild abandonment.

  She clasped his shoulders and opened fully to him. As the first rush of passion passed, his kiss grew increasingly gentle, until it was a whisper against her lips.

  That was her Dracheon warrior’s love. She blinked, returning to reality. Rich and varied yet always constant, his ardor for her ranged from savage and severe to light and reverent.

  She adored all facets of him, his beast and his humanoid side, his roughness and his tenderness. He was hers and she was his.

  Forever.

  “I love you, my big warrior.” She bracketed his face with her hands.

  He turned his head, pressed his lips to her right palm and then her left. “I love you, my tiny thief.”

  “I’m a former thief.” She told him tritely.

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  She sighed. Her male knew her too well.

  “I’m trying to be a former thief.” She extracted an intricately engraved Chamele dagger from one of her pockets. “This was too shiny to resist.”

  Dare laughed, his mirth filling the chamber. “You do love shiny things.” He hugged her closer to him.

  “I do.” She dropped the dagger and held onto her shiny mate.

  # # #

  If you enjoyed Dark Fire and would like to receive updates on characters plus a notification when Dark Cure (the Medic’s story) 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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  Blog: TasteOfCyn.com

  Other Books by Cynthia Sax

  Refuge Series

  Dark Thoughts

  Dark Flight

  Dark Strength

  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

  Taking Vengeance

  Releasing Rage - Excerpt

  Kralj, the hero of Dark Thoughts, appears briefly in the Cyborg Sizzle series. Here is an excerpt from Releasing Rage, 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 in 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?”