Ashes and Metal (Cyborg Shifters Book 5)

by Naomi Lucas

  “You’re safe.” His lips moved like pressed steel. The words rolled out slowly, with no sense of urgency.

  “I’m safe,” she agreed.

  The gun slid from her temple to her cheek, leaving behind an invisible trail that would always haunt her. She swallowed, fingers twitching uselessly at her sides, hands tense with desire to reach out to him—her dark god in rent, bullet-ridden skin. So much pain.

  “What happened to you?” she managed. Fresh blood trickled from his wounds. It caught in the water trails that trickled down his muscled body.

  Everywhere.

  “How can you still be standing?” she asked.

  “A trap.” Gunner jerked again, eyes flashing—restarting. The pistol against her cheek dug into her skin. “Ballsy released...a viral shockwave to scramble my systems. Elodie, it’s still going off, chipping away at my control.” The words came out pained. “You weren’t in the brig.”

  Losing control. She shivered at the thought and tentatively reached up and clasped the back of his hand. It was hard—unyielding—like the rest of him. But the gun slipped from her face to her collarbone.

  “Nothing happened to me.” Reassure him. The bodies she’d passed by with her dad came to mind. She didn’t want to see anymore—not so soon. “My dad broke me out.”

  Gunner’s eyes remained blank, relentless. “Kallan was after you.”

  Her belly sank. Her grip tightened. “Why?”

  “He had his suspicions. Same as me. He suspected you were a woman and was convinced enough to at least find out without a doubt. Those doubts have been removed. Permanently and with force. He won’t bother you again. And you weren’t in the fucking brig!” Twitch. Shudder. Reset.

  Her fear increased by the moment. Elodie glanced around at the bleak, enclosed space, convinced a mob of men clung to the corner shadows when a hand slammed onto the wall next to her.

  “Keep. Your. Eyes. On me,” Gunner ordered, looking down at her.

  He brought the gun, which he handled with care, up to her lips and ran the muzzle of it back and forth. Wetted, fresh, and heated—kissing death and all its future harboring. Elodie parted her mouth and licked the edge of it, watching for his reaction. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as life slowly returned to his eyes. She kissed the gun again, empowered, and held her ground.

  He won’t hurt me.

  “If they know I’m a woman,” Elodie breathed into the metal that continued to sway across her mouth, “my time’s up.”

  “Is it?” Gunner pressed her closer to the wall. Red hot heat and his soul-capturing eyes ensnared her. His naked chest was a hair’s breadth away. The sudden nearness was hard for her to comprehend. There was nothing between them anymore, no darkness, no bars, no walls, and no cameras. Her breath shortened. A delicious ache twisted between her legs.

  He could take everything. Subdue me, own me, pluck my flower and tear off its petals. The barrel pushed past her lips, forcing her mouth open. It slipped in and over her tongue, its taste acrid and smoky. She raised her eyes to his hooded ones. Captivated and starved. And so stressed.

  I’ll trust you. She implored without speaking. I do trust you. Let me trust you. Her eyes and nose burned. She was insane for feeling safe and trusting a psychopath.

  Gunner dropped his hand from the wall with eerie quietness and cupped her nape, nudging his weapon infinitesimally in and out of her mouth.

  Elodie tongued the hard edges, the gunpowder bloom, and the sweat, taking it and pretending it was him, an extension of him. And at that moment, it was him. The hand clutching her nape snaked down to the zipper at the top of the jacket, his fingers playing with its metal piece.

  A low, panting vibration filled her ears, coming from his parted lips.

  He pulled the gun from her mouth with a low pop. It was wet with her saliva as he ran it down her chin and the length of her strumming pulse, while he continued to toy with her only article of clothing and the last barrier between them. She licked the bitter taste of metal from her lips.

  “Elodie,” Gunner rasped, leaning over her. “Take off my jacket.”

  Something in the way he asked her made her clench her thighs together, fueling the need to be penetrated by him. To have his power inside her.

  “I’m mostly bare underneath. My clothes are drying.” Elodie took the zipper from his fingers, and they played a tender game as hers moved under his to take over.

  A groan hit the air. “I know.”

  Slowly, escaping his gaze she lowered the zipper, the barrel of his firearm followed closely behind, raking over her collarbone, to stop above her shuddering heart—where it stayed for a few short beats—then down to the center of her chest and between her breasts.

  The jacket covered her until the last second, her shoulders hunched to keep it in place. Elodie tugged the zipper ever-so-slowly, gorging herself on the hunger in the Cyborg’s blazing red eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to go faster, even as the blooming need for his touch ripped through her entire body.

  The muzzle of the gun was now placed at the crux of her pelvis, and with her core cramping under the impending pressure of his gaze, she clenched in anticipation. The red glow of his eyes cast her pale skin in crimson, smoldering in the gloom-filled room. Pointed, direct, and vibrant.

  Elodie toyed with the last link of the zipper, slowing down to a crawl before she finally unzipped the end. A shallow breath escaped her throat. She pushed her arms back, allowing Gunner a chance to see her as the jacket parted.

  Gunner’s hands came up in unison, one still clutching the gun, to push the jacket off her shoulders, letting it pool to the floor. She was naked except for a strip of underwear that he quickly tore off, shredding the tiny strip with his fingers. Naked in front of an armed Cyborg who had just finished gunning down half the crew. The danger of her situation was intoxicating.

  A very real, very feminine thrill surged through her. All she could think at that moment was that she hoped Gunner liked what he saw. She ached with need. Craved his touch. Her heart was pounding and each beat stoked the flames of the inferno between her legs higher. She could feel the hot blood coursing through her veins.

  To her very core, Elodie wanted him. She wanted him to not only see that she wasn’t lacking, but to find her desirable too. She wanted him to pull her up against him. She wanted to feel his cock trapped between them, the Cyborg’s unnatural heat amplifying the fire within her.

  But the longer Gunner stared at her, a feeling of uncertainty grew. She stiffened her back and dug her nails into her palms. Touch me. Please just touch me. Put your hands back on me. The time lengthened into an uneasy stalemate clouded under unreadable expressions and heat.

  The mystery was gone.

  Everything she wanted was a touch away, a brief word, another kiss, there was nothing stopping them. But it stopped. Her nerves frayed under his heavy gaze.

  She lowered her eyes.

  “On your knees, Ely.”

  “Gunner?”

  “Now.” Suddenly, the muzzle was pressed up against her forehead again.

  The darkness in his voice was back. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as she slowly slid down the wall and toward the chilly floor, taking in his poised body with every inch she fell. Her knees met the ground just as her face leveled with his cock. It jerked and bobbed. The movements of his shaft were similar to the way his biceps and calves seized with tension.

  Elodie scrunched into the space between Gunner and the wall and leaned her head back so as not to accidentally touch it—touch him. She wasn’t in control nor did she want to be in that moment.

  The mushroom head of his cock was pierced on the underside, one small metal bauble in the shape of a bullet that went straight through the curvature of his tip. She wondered how she hadn’t noticed it before in the brig when Gunner had all but flashed his dick to the world.

  Maybe I didn’t want to notice.

  She noticed now. He was large and frightening. She was completely out
of her element and drowning in the shadow of his imposing body. Elodie wiped her hands over her thighs as she got the eyeful of her life. The distant yet intermittent sirens still reached her ears, but they were nothing compared to the pounding blood filling her head.

  They rang for something different now, she knew. A whole ship fallen into chaos because of the Cyborg who shadowed her.

  She tempered her uncertainty and gradually reached up to grab hold of him.

  Her fingers hooked around his girth and squeezed the veiny, unrelenting flesh. The pressure of his gun resting on her head was no longer the only connection between them.

  Gunner jerked and pressed closer with a groaning thrust. It startled her. His lighted eyes dimmed before brightening anew. Elodie braced as another wave of what plagued his systems threaded through him.

  She held on as he shook and short-circuited, her hand—too small to wrap around him fully—massaging and discovering his heavy shaft. When she touched the piercing at the tip, it burned.

  The scent of sea salt and butter flooded her nostrils, rich in comparison to everything else as a trickle of creamy precum dripped from his tip. The weapon poised at her head vanished as his hands slammed against the wall above her, ringing out hollow echoes. He held on to the wall as she held onto him.

  Elodie balanced on her knees as she started to pump him, shallow and exploring at first—finding a pace while building momentum—then strong and persistent.

  She wanted him to feel good. Wanted him to break under her hands, but most of all, she wanted to make more of his seed appear because it made her feel powerful. Feminine. Desired.

  Heat sparked between her legs. Her core tied in knots. Essence leaked from her pussy to slick over her folds and run down her inner thighs. She wanted it to be his cum that made her wet. Wanted so badly for it to be his saliva.

  The sound of rough, almost painful panting filled her ears as more of his seed beaded from his tip. Gunner’s hips rocked forward, driving her into the wall and she had to scramble and maneuver to balance between each rocking thrust, the space between them closing a little more each time.

  His cock hit her nose, then it nudged her cheek, and a wet trail replaced the heavy one left by the muzzle of the gun he still held. And when she licked her lips this time, the taste of him, the real him, covered her tongue.

  Elodie parted her mouth and took him in when his cock pistoned forward again. His piercing clanked against her teeth before she jerked forward and it went deeper to run over the roof of her mouth. Sputtering, he pressed onward to take her throat.

  She heard him snarl her name.

  “Gunner,” she choked over his cock. It stretched her mouth to its limits.

  His hand grasped the back of her neck and locked her onto him. His thick tip at the edge of her throat, swallowing and half-gagging around it. Elodie clutched at his exposed length and squeezed, lifting her eyes to find him staring down at her.

  He released her abruptly and jerked out from her mouth with one last rough pump. Before she could close her lips Gunner dragged her out into the middle of the room. With her mouth suddenly empty, she reached up to knead the aching joints of her jaw.

  Gunner towered above her like a crazed god, nostrils wide and flaring, wearing an insane grin that was offset by eyes so intense it made her heart race.

  “Gunner,” she said, lowering her hand, concerned. Just as she was about to rise, he dropped to his knees and shoved her down onto her back, his face disappearing between her legs—thrust apart by his hands.

  Elodie braced herself for his tongue, his lips, maybe his hands, but nothing touched her but his heavy, hot breath. It cascaded over her aching flesh. She already yearned for him, clenching in need, and his breath only fanned the flames.

  She rose up onto her elbows and found him with his eyes closed, breathing her in. Her thighs shook—the position not entirely comfortable—and her hips buckled as he re-positioned her legs, sending her sprawling back onto the floor.

  “What’re you doing?” she squeaked as another plume of hot air fell over her pussy. “Stop smelling and breathing on me!” She squirmed in his grip and sat back up.

  “Can’t,” he groaned and another blast of breath hit her. His hands dropped from her legs and an arm came up to band over her pelvis, holding her down. Elodie relaxed her legs into him, her heels back on the floor.

  “Look at me,” she urged, watching as his mouth contorted somewhere between a man’s and a beast’s, the sharp points of several inhuman teeth visible.

  His eyes refused to meet hers. “You’re so aroused for me.”

  The sentiment confused her. “Who else?”

  “All mine,” he said as another heavy breath burned her. “This is all for me. Your pretty pink pussy on display, for me. You have no idea how long I have waited for this.”

  She pursed her lips. He wasn’t making any sense.

  But then he touched her. The ache of her core unraveled with a shriek. She expected the warm touch of prying fingers but what touched her was cold and blunt and hard, with no give whatsoever.

  Elodie dropped her head back to the floor as every fiber of her body tensed. It was the gun between her thighs, rubbing her essence over her quim. Gunner was trying to scare her away, warn her off, make her fight him, but instead she wrenched her eyes shut and willingly succumbed. She wanted to feel him, take him inside her, and if she didn’t watch the weapon, she could pretend, again, it was an extension of him.

  It is him.

  And she wanted it. Would beg for it. A horrible, tantalizing rush had her bucking again, making his hold on her strengthen.

  Gunner dipped the muzzle of his gun up and down the length of her pussy, through her folds. The rounded, hard edges slipping with more ease each time it stopped at her entrance, spreading her wetness over every inch.

  Elodie wasn’t afraid. She was as high as a battle flyer on adrenaline-laced stress. Her clawing hands grabbed hold of his wet hair, fingers tangling within, and pulled.

  “Christening my favorite toy.” His voice was gruff as he probed her core with the barrel. “Your smell is intoxicating. Feast worthy.” It gained an inch inside of her—quaking and rough. “Kissing my AutoMag and covering it with luck.” Her nails dug into his skull as his words undid her and she arched what little she could into him. “The safety is on, sweetheart, so show me how much you like my gun.”

  A heavy wave of heat and shadow loomed over her, darkening her eyelids, and she opened them to see Gunner rising up to shield her body with his twitching, massive form.

  His elbow thumped down next to her ear. The gun pressed deeper. She clenched around it when it was fully seated. Elodie untangled her fingers and ran her nails down the back of his neck to grip his shoulders.

  With his face hovering above hers and her legs now hooked around his chest, the gun twisted and she winced. He pushed it deeper into her until the edge of the trigger was rammed and rimming at her entrance.

  She was trapped beneath him, but his eyes pinned her better than his heavy body ever would, and she watched, mesmerized, as tiny lines of code ran across his irises. She lifted up as he thrust the weapon in and out of her.

  Elodie rose to catch his lips but he pulled back out of her reach.

  “It’s inside you. Fucking you.” To emphasize his point, Gunner drew it out and shoved it straight back into her, jerking her entire body forward and up.

  “I know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She loosed a shocked squeal as he thrust the gun inside her again. Ely wanted his lips but he kept them out of reach as the momentum crested dangerously.

  “You like this?” Snarl and shove. “My gun inside you?” Flickering eyes and straining muscles. “It doesn’t get tired.” He leaned into her and nipped her ear. “It only gets used.”

  “I like you,” she gasped as he spun the gun, suddenly, right against the sweet spot that ignited her need and caused her to jerk completely off the floor to cling to him. Needing the heat of his skin
over every inch of hers.

  Gunner fucked her hard. They moved in frenzied, mismatched unison, their skin slicking across the ground and plastering together. They were covered in sweat and blood and the smell of their sex was thick in the air. It suffocated her.

  Gasping sounds arose from her throat in a fight against his dominion. Because she knew that was what this was. A biting need for control over another. Bodies thrusting with primitive intent, dark and freeing at the same time. His hand continued to shove and press between her legs as his teeth grazed along her neck and back over her ear.

  “You fucking like this, don’t you?”

  Her head thumped back into the floor until his hand reached under to cushion it. Shove, stretch, and retreat.

  “I like you,” she quickly agreed.

  Stretch, spin, retreat.

  The frenzy grew, the need for release sucking all the strain out of her limbs as the tension bloomed, her climax teetering right on the precipice. More. Elodie needed more—everything he was willing to give her.

  “Even if I fuck you with every weapon in my arsenal?”

  Thrust, probe, vibrate. So close.

  “Yes!” she shouted, rising up to finally capture his open mouth to stop him from talking. The moment their lips touched, the gun clattered to the floor. Her moan was lost as he pushed her head back down into his open hand with his mouth, pressing her to the floor. Her kiss became his.

  Fingers replaced the quivering, empty space between her legs, softer but no less forceful and frightening. They scissored her tight channel roughly as if there was too much to take over and conquer. The pads of his fingertips were brutal and soon two fingers became three to rub her G-spot in chaotic unison. But whenever she was about to explode, he would stop, and bring her back down, coaxing out a wild animal that had been locked inside of her.

  Elodie fought for it in his brutal blistering heat.

  Gunner imprisoned her mouth, his tongue claiming and tasting, ravaging every corner. Half crushed under him, drowning, and yet he kept her release right out of reach. She battled for it. Writhed for it. But each time she approached the brink, he pulled her back from the edge. It was infuriating.