by Cynthia Sax
The fabric hung on her wrists. He gripped the edges.
“Don’t rip it.” She stopped him. “There are a limited supply of flight suits on board. Release me and I’ll undress myself.”
“You enjoy being bound.” He removed the straps.
“You can bind me later.” She didn’t argue with him. “I yearn to touch you.” His female kicked off her boots and discarded her flight suit. “I want to dig my fingernails into your shoulders as you ride me.”
Crash’s cock bobbed, his female’s claiming words stripping his control. She’d mark him as hers, sending a signal to the others that they were one. “Open yourself to me, my Safyre.”
She hooked her legs over the chair’s arm rests, giving him a view of her pink pussy lips, her empty entrance, the wetness glistening on her flesh. He inhaled deeply, dragging more of her tantalizing musk into his lungs.
“Do you like what you see?” She strummed her pussy folds with her fingertips, her eyes bright with need.
“Yes.” Crash folded his fingers around his hard cock and pumped, matching her erotic display with one of his own. “Do you like what you see?”
“Fuck, yeah.” She watched him as he worked his shaft, sliding his hands from base to tip. He watched her as she played with her pussy, circling her clit with her fingertips, testing the tightness of her opening.
They teased themselves into a frenzy, until pre-cum formed on his tip and her hands were soaked with her juices. His Safyre’s beautiful face flushed. Her eyes softened with desire. Her pussy lips clung to her fingers.
She’d cling to his cock the same way. Frag. Crash moved forward, fitting his hips between her thighs. He had to have her. Now. He couldn’t wait another moment. “Are you ready for me, my Safyre?”
“I’ve been ready for you since we met.” She tilted her hips upward.
He pushed inside her. She was snug and hot and wet, a sizzling hot combination designed to fry his processors. It took all of his rapidly waning restraint not to come. He gripped her hips and sank into her, the exquisite pressure moving along his shaft, setting off gentle waves of erotic joy.
Crash paused, his cock buried up to his hilt, and locked gazes with her. Her eyes, always so expressive, had darkened, almost matching his.
Almost. Gold shimmered in the brown, her energy unable to be concealed, snapping and sizzling around him.
He pulled back, drove forward, pulled back, drove forward, holding her hips, holding her still, not allowing her chair to move or his female to escape him.
Crash was an E model. They were considered to be refined cyborgs.
But when he was with her, he was more primitive than a C model, the urge to make her his, to claim her, undeniable.
As though needing the same link, Safyre wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted into his thrusts, smacking her body against his, the sound echoing across the bridge. Her fingernails scored his forearms, leaving pink lines on his gray skin.
Crash loved it, leaning into the pain, wishing the marks could be permanent. He bred with her harder, faster. She panted, her magnificent breasts rising and falling, rubbing against his chest. A sheen of moisture covered her body, catching the light. Her hair brightened around her face.
His female was fire and passion and movement, a comet streaking across a battle-blackened sky, a miracle where none should be. He gazed at her with wonder, with awestruck reverence, as he took her again and again. This unique creature was his to win, his to protect and to cherish.
Crash brushed his lips against hers, tasting her desire. He’d organize the rescue of her friend, prove his worth and bind her to him forever. They would witness planets being born and stars dying and continue to breed like this.
There was no other experience that could compare to this. They moved together, the urgency of their rutting escalating. He grunted, expressing his joy, beyond words, beyond speech. There was only her and him and the moment they were sharing.
Heat oozed over his balls. She constricted around his shaft. Her fingernails raked up his arms to pierce his shoulders, the pain heightening his pleasure, contrasting against her softness.
“Crash. Crash,” she called his name, telling every being listening who she belonged to.
His spine stiffened with pride, and his desire to please her, to reward her compounded, warring with his yearning to make their encounter last, to stay inside her longer. Her heels drummed against his ass. She sucked on his skin.
He fought the urge to come, to give them what they both wanted. More moments of togetherness, more thrusts was what he battled for, what he—
She clenched around his cock and his mechanics malfunctioned. He bellowed, drove forward, filled her completely and swiveled his hips.
Safyre screamed, her inner walls closing even more around him. Cum rocketed out of him, the force of his release draining all of the power from the rest of his form. His vision system darkened. He couldn’t see. All he could do was feel, boosts of ecstasy propelling over him again and again.
He came. She reacted to his nanocybotics, writhing, squeezing, causing more of his essence to shoot out of his cock. They completed that circuit once, twice, three times until he had nothing left.
Crash dropped to the floor. The tiles smacked against his knees but he felt only joy. He drew his little human closer to him, murmuring illogical words, attempting to sooth her, to reassure her as she trembled.
He was with her. Nothing, no being would ever harm her. He nuzzled against her hair, stroked her back with shaking fingers, humbled by the experience, by her.
He would do anything to please her, to ensure she never left him.
Anything.
Chapter Nine
She trusted him. Safyre rested her cheek on Crash’s chest, listening to the triple beat of his cyborg heart. He had a plan to rescue Nymphia, a plan that would give all of them a future. She didn’t have to walk away from the connection they’d formed.
He petted her back, moving his big hands from the top of her head to her ass, the motion soothing. Her body hummed with the attention, the contact.
His nanocybotics bubbled over her skin and inside her form, part of her, never fading. They had changed her as he had. She should be sore, exhausted, sexually sated and she wasn’t. She wanted him again, always.
Shit. She had it bad.
“I hope Nymphia likes Gap.” The young cyborg was obsessed with her friend. “He’ll be crushed if she doesn’t.” Gap had been through so much. He deserved happiness.
As Crash did. She splayed her fingers over his abs. His muscles undulated under her palms. There wasn’t a pinch of excess fat anywhere on his body.
“He’ll survive.” Her cyborg sounded as concerned as she was. “Gap is resilient, always hopeful.”
While he was always cautious, she realized. They offset each other.
“You worry about him.” Crash pulled back and gazed at her, his black eyes flat, his jaw loosely set.
“Yeah, I do,” she admitted. It would be challenging not to care for them. They’d been tortured, had lost many of their brethren, fought hard for their freedom, yet had never lost their humanity, their souls.
Crash leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m glad. That means—”
He stiffened, his muscles drawing tight under her hands.
Oh fuck. He sensed something. “What is it? Is there a ship approaching? Is someone hurt?”
“We have to dress.” Crash jumped to his feet. “Now.” He pulled her out of the chair, supporting her when her knees threatened to buckle.
Her legs were stiff. But not damp. She’d been filled with cum yet not a trickle escaped her pussy. She’d absorbed all of him.
“Tell me what you know.” She wanted to be prepared.
“The cyborgs are waiting in the hallway.” Crash held out her flight suit, helping her into the garment, tending to her first, ensuring she was covered. “The situation has changed.”
Judging by his face,
it hadn’t changed for the better. She fastened her boots while he donned his body armor.
As soon as the last piece clicked into place, the doors slid open. Equally grim cyborgs entered, all clad in their war gear, weapons strapped to their body armor. They were prepared for battle, led by a disturbingly subdued Gap and the always serious Death.
Safyre’s alarm increased. Were they under attack?
“Debrief,” Crash barked.
“We intercepted a communiqué,” Death’s tone was flat. “The Humanoid Alliance is losing the war. They planned to assign us the mission to defend the manufacturing facility, to ensure the cyborgs stored there don’t fall into enemy hands. If our ship doesn’t reach the surface, the Humanoid Alliance will use alternate measures.”
“And what are these alternate measures?” Safyre asked. The bad feeling settled deep in the pit of her stomach as though it knew it would be staying with her for a while.
Death’s gaze remained on Crash’s face. “They’ll utilize the World Ender.”
“No, they can’t.” She gasped. “Not for a rebellion.”
The World Ender was a super weapon, able to obliterate an entire planet with one strike. If they utilized it, millions would die. A rare, precious environment fit for human habitation would be destroyed. Not even the Humanoid Alliance would be so callous with life, with resources.
“Yes, they can. They plan to utilize it.” Death’s expression was grave. “We can’t allow that to happen, not while our brethren remain on the surface. We will land on Tau Ceti and fulfill the Humanoid Alliance’s mission.”
Crash’s fingers folded into tight fists. “You’ll be enslaved once more, forced to fight for the humans, to tolerate their abuse, risking decommissioning, death. It could be many human lifespans, if ever, before you have the opportunity to escape again.”
“We’re aware of that.” Death dipped his head. The cyborgs around him did the same. “But we won’t buy our freedom with the lives of our brethren.”
They were in agreement, their expressions resigned, resolute. All of them were determined to save the others.
“There has to be another way,” Safyre whispered, remembering their joy, their relief when they were freed. They could now smile and laugh and not be killed for it. To give that up was too great a sacrifice.
“There is no other way,” Death replied, lifting his chin.
“There must be an alternative,” she insisted. She wouldn’t allow them to return to slavery. “Think.”
“Death is a cyborg. He has processed the situation, female.” Crash’s words were sharp. “Why are you protesting? The freighter is landing on the planet. That’s what you wanted.”
Yeah, that was her original plan, to hitch a ride to the surface with the cyborgs but she hadn’t known then what freedom meant to them. She’d thought them mindless machines. Her gaze rested on Crash’s countenance. Not passionate, caring beings.
“I did want it,” she admitted. “But not at this cost.”
“This change in the situation won’t benefit you.” Crash glanced at her, his face hard. “We won’t be landing on Tau Ceti with the J models. We’ll be on our own ship, far from the planet, far from the fighting.”
“If the J models are landing on Tau Ceti, I have to also.” She shook her head. He wasn’t thinking clearly, which was unlike her extremely logical cyborg. “The Humanoid Alliance is expecting a human crew. I’m the only human on board.”
Crash bent over, lowering his face to her level and looked her straight in the eyes. “You won’t be on board.”
“If you don’t want me on board.” She met his gaze, not wavering. “Use that big cyborg brain of yours and figure out another option, one that keeps every being we care about safe.”
His jaw jutted.
“Fine.” Safyre rolled her eyes. “Since you refuse to find an alternative, I will.” She concentrated on the problem. “We could disable the World Ender.” That would remove the leverage the Humanoid Alliance had over the cyborgs.
“The World Ender is equipped with the most advanced shields and weaponry,” Death relayed. “It is also surrounded by a fleet of ships. The Humanoid Alliance isn’t taking any chances with the device.”
Shit. “Then we have to land on Tau Ceti.”
The warrior nodded.
She tapped her lips with her fingers. “We’re to land at the coordinates the Humanoid Alliance sent.”
“Where they will be waiting,” Crash pointed out. “Ready to take delivery of the cyborgs, of their non-processing weapons of war. The J models can’t refuse their commands without setting off alarms within the Humanoid Alliance. They must fight for the humans.”
“Then we don’t land at those coordinates.” The solution was obvious.
All of the cyborgs stared at her as though she was mentally deficient.
“The planet is in the midst of a war.” She spoke slowly, allowing them to process her words. “Ships are shot down all the time.”
Death shook his head. “If the ship is destroyed, they’ll utilize the World Ender.”
“If the ship is destroyed. Our freighter will survive.” Because the hit wouldn’t be real. She would simulate being shot down. “I’ll communicate with the Humanoid Alliance, tell them the freighter is damaged and they have to meet us at the new coordinates.”
There was silence.
Crash gazed at her.
Moments passed. Were they thinking about her proposal? Talking about it on one of their fancy transmission lines? She wiggled, impatient to hear their thoughts.
“You are a brilliant being,” Crash finally declared, his admiration thrilling her. “We land elsewhere. There will be fighting between us and them.” He turned and tapped on the controls, bringing up an aerial view of Tau Ceti. A big blue dot indicated the location of the docking bay facilities. “It will take them time and effort to reach the ship.”
“Time we can utilize to rescue the newly manufactured units.” Death joined him at the console, highlighting the cyborg manufacturing facility.
“And my female.” Gap added the radius where Nymphia was located.
“Some cyborgs have to stay behind to protect the freighter.” Safyre stood beside Crash. An enticing heat radiated from him. “There will be minor repairs to complete also. I have to make the landing look like we were hit.”
“You won’t landing the freighter.” Her cyborg glanced at her. “Your ship has been repaired. We’ll take it and wait for the others in open space.”
They’d be safe and they’d be together. She wouldn’t have to worry about him dying.
That plan was tempting but there was a problem with it.
“The Humanoid Alliance will perform a lifeform scan before they allow us to land.” She’d made quite a few deliveries to the Humanoid Alliance, all as a solo pilot. She knew their processes. “How will you explain a cyborg crew?”
She waited for his solution. When she took this mission, she’d been prepared to die. She hadn’t cared about her lifespan.
Now she did. She cared about her lifespan, her future. Safyre gazed at Crash. Most of all, she cared about him, her cyborg warrior.
Silence stretched.
He didn’t answer.
Because there was no other solution.
Shit. She had to fly the freighter.
“I’m the best damn pilot in the universe. I can do this.” Her assurance was for both him and her. “I’ve delivered objects solo in the past and that’s all the Humanoid Alliance views cyborgs as being—objects. They won’t question my presence at the helm. I’ve flown into war zones.” She’d never crashed. That would be a new experience for her.
“I won’t risk you, my female.” Crash pulled her into his arms, his grip on her tight.
“Crash.”
“I won’t.” Her cyborg folded his form around hers, as though he was trying to protect her from the future, from possible peril.
He couldn’t. No one could.
She placed her
hands high on his body armor, seeking to comfort him. “We don’t have a choice. If we don’t land on the planet, they’ll blow it up. Nymphia and the newly manufactured cyborgs will die.”
Nymphia would be alone when her life ended. Safyre had vowed that wouldn’t happen.
Crash said nothing, stubbornness in the set of his shoulders.
“I couldn’t live with that, warrior.” She couldn’t put her happiness before her friend’s life, before the lives of his brethren. “The guilt would destroy me.”
“I wouldn’t allow that.” He bracketed her face with his big hands. “There must be another way.”
“There isn’t.” They both knew that.
He covered her face with fervent kisses. She tilted upward into them, cherishing his adoration, realizing their time together could be ending.
The images on the viewscreen showed pockets of heat bursting over the terrain. The fighting on Tau Ceti had worsened. The freighter’s clearance would allow them to land on the planet. Leaving the surface would be much more challenging.
“We’ll survive this.” Crash read her thoughts.
Safyre nodded. She trusted him.
He turned and faced the cyborgs. “In one planet rotation, we’re landing on Tau Ceti. We need two teams—one to retrieve the newly manufactured units and one to defend the freighter.”
“And a third team to retrieve Nymphia,” Safyre added.
“I’ll retrieve my female.” Gap straightened.
“I want to be involved in that plan.” She would keep the young warrior focused.
“We’ll all be involved in that plan.” Crash wrapped his arms around her. “We’ll craft a flawless rescue, my female. If it is at all possible, we’ll safely retrieve your friend.”
Do you think it’s possible? She asked through their transmission line, needing that reassurance.
Yes. He lowered to one of the chairs, pulling her onto his lap.
The cyborgs split into teams, concentrating on parts of the plan. Crash coordinated all of the teams, often consulting with her. He was in charge and she felt like his second in command.