by Cynthia Sax
“Am I?” Traz shoved her off his lap and stood, needing to get away from her and the feelings churning inside him.
“You are.” Falyn smiled that serene smile of hers.
“Fuck!” Traz bellowed, unable to argue with the truth. He stomped into the corridor, leaving her on the bridge of the Freedom, in control of his ship, his emotions and his heart.
Chapter Seven
Traz fastened the chip to John’s neck and activated it. “Freedom, how many life forms are on board?”
“There are three life forms on board, Captain.”
Traz turned the chip off. “Freedom, how many life forms are on board?”
“There are two life forms on board, Captain.”
“Good.” Traz tapped the android’s neck. “Activate this chip when you enter the Balazoid fighter ship, John. You are to protect Falyn at all costs. She is not to be harmed by anyone, including the Balazoid, understand?”
“I understand, Captain,” the android dutifully replied.
Footsteps danced on the floor, fabric swished and Traz turned. His breath caught as Falyn floated toward him, her sleek form clad in a flowing ivory dress, a smile for him and him alone on her beautiful face. “The dress fits,” he growled, his voice pitched low with desire.
“Yes, and so do the shoes.” Falyn stuck one foot out, the slippers matching her dress. “I love them, Traz. I absolutely love them.” She skipped, looking at her feet as she walked. “Aren’t they wonderful?”
Traz chuckled, his worries disappearing for the moment. “You’re wonderful. Come here.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him. Their bodies collided, curves flattening against muscle. She tilted her head back, her long hair swaying against her ass, and gazed up at him, her violet eyes sparkling with laughter.
“This is for you.” Traz pulled the white collar out of his pocket and laid it across his palm. Crystals matching her eyes edged the soft cloth exterior.
“Traz.” Falyn blinked. Teardrops dangled on her pale eyelashes. “It is beautiful.” She touched the collar with trembling fingertips.
“Turn around and hold up your hair,” he instructed gruffly. He looped the collar around her neck, placed the soft fabric over her scars and closed the ends, the fastening fusing permanently. “No one can remove this. You’ll always belong to me.”
“Always,” she repeated. A solitary teardrop streaked down her cheek.
Traz brushed the wetness away with his thumb. “There’s a tracking signal embedded in it so I can find you in case…in case…” He couldn’t complete the sentence, the thought of losing Falyn unbearable.
“If the tracking signal doesn’t work, I’ll meet you on our planet, near the active volcano.” She smiled a bit too brightly, her feigned cheerfulness not fooling Traz.
“To the left of the lava flows.” He grazed his fingertip over her lips.
“The Balazoid fighter ship has docked,” the ship informed them, ending the tender moment.
“Don’t touch any weapons,” Traz reminded Falyn, pushing her toward their destiny, his palm flat on her back. “If you’re armed, he’ll hurt you. Let John defend you.”
“I will,” she promised. “My plan will work, Traz. I know it will. He won’t hurt me…badly. I’m too valuable.”
Traz growled, disturbed by the thought of her being hurt at all. “Run as far and as fast as you can to the right, away from his personal chambers,” he instructed unnecessarily, the clever plan concocted by Falyn. “I’ll find Sabria, free her and come for you.” He drew Falyn close and brushed her lips with his. “I will come for you, Falyn. You can count on that.”
“I know.” She stepped away from him and he reluctantly let her go. “I trust you, Traz.” She joined John near the doors, standing behind the armed android.
She trusts me. Traz pressed his back against the wall, his body hidden out of sight. Please let me be worthy of her trust.
The doors slid open. John released a barrage of shots into the Balazoid ship, using the doorframe as a shield. Falyn hiked up her skirt and ran, dodging the return fire, particle beams zinging dangerously close to her body.
Fuck. Traz’s fingers tapped his gun, yearning to protect his woman.
John followed Falyn, covering her pert ass, both of his guns blazing. A black shadow tracked them closely. Traz breathed in, breathed out, breathed in, breathed out and darted in the opposite direction.
The corridors were brightly lit, deliberately so Traz suspected—no shadows in which to hide. A wall-mounted gun swung toward him, shooting, the beams cutting through the walls. He disabled the weapon with one shot.
Floor sweepers rolled in his direction. Traz jumped over the shots and blasted the small bots into pieces, metal clinking against metal. Fuck. The Balazoid is paranoid. Traz shook his head, grudgingly respecting his enemy.
He passed an open chamber. A silver chair filled the small space, the arm and leg restraints designed for a small female form. A breeding machine. Traz’s resolve to find Sabria firmed, the thought of his little sister being forced to fuck Balazoids repulsive.
He turned left and pain scraped along his right shoulder. Focus or die, inmate. Traz gritted his teeth and blasted the automated guns. He counted the chamber doors. One. Two. Three. He pried the control panel off the wall and slid the card in, interrupting the circuit. The doors slid open.
Sabria. His sister lay on a black bedlike structure, her arms and legs stretched wide, her limbs tied with leather straps, her body encased from neck to ankle in body armor. A wide strap was tied around her mouth. Her brown eyes widened as she recognized him.
“Stay still,” Traz instructed. He drew the knife from his belt and sliced through the straps, cursing the Balazoid for his sister’s rough treatment.
Sabria yanked the strap away from her mouth. “Traz, what are you doing here?” She rolled off the bed and scrambled to her feet.
“Rescuing you. What does it look like?” he drawled. Shots rang out. Falyn screamed, the sound testing Traz’s sanity. “Fuck. We have to go.” He gripped Sabria’s wrist. “Before he hurts her.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Sabria pulled her arm out of his reach. “Do you know who he is? He’s the assassin they call Dreck. Through him, I have access to the Balazoid system.” She touched the back of her neck. “The Federation would--”
“Fuck the Federation.” Traz glared at his little sister, not believing his ears. “The Federation put me in prison, Sabria. I don’t care about their stupid war.” The shots continued and his panic increased. “Falyn is in trouble. Come on. We have to leave. Now.”
“No.” Sabria crossed her arms under breasts Traz never noticed before. When the fuck had she grown up? “I’m not leaving him.”
“Him?” Traz roared. “Falyn was right. You love him. He’s a cold-blooded killer and you love him.”
His sister’s cheeks flushed bright red. “Killer? I have a bigger problem with him being an arrogant woman-hating asshole,” Sabria fumed, not denying his accusation. “Shit, Traz. You’re a killer.” She flung her hands in the air. “And I love you. What does being a killer have to do with anything?”
Because that killer is tracking the woman I love. “Fuck.” Traz raked his fingers over his scalp and paced, not knowing what to do. The room was silent except for the thud of his heels on the floor.
The room was silent.
“He has her.” Dread froze Traz in his tracks.
“Who?” Sabria narrowed her eyes.
“Your Balazoid, the assassin they call Dreck, has Falyn, the woman I love.” Traz struggled to breathe, unable to inhale enough air to fill his lungs, his chest tight and his heart hurting. “I risked her, my destiny, everything I’ve ever wanted, for nothing. I can’t lose her, Sabria. It’ll kill me.”
* * * * *
Falyn flew down the corridor, pumping her arms and legs, tilting her torso forward. She dodged the beams from the spooky guns positioned on the ceiling. She leapt over the rolling floor weapons.
John blocked the trigger-happy Balazoid’s shots.
She panted and she ran faster than she’d ever run before, the seams in her dress tearing with each stride, her calves burning. She came to a juncture in the corridors. There were closed doors on both sides. She turned right as Traz instructed and pushed on the metal door. It didn’t budge.
“Fuck.” She muttered Traz’s favorite word. She pivoted on her heels, ran left, slamming into the door with her shoulder. It remained closed, the impact jarring her body. “John, he’s penned us in. We’ll have to go back where we came.” She surged forward.
“No. Stay here.” John pushed her behind him. “I’ll protect you.” The ceiling guns froze. The rolling floor weapons slid into wall panels. The corridor fell eerily silent and empty.
Falyn obeyed her android’s command and planted her feet on the floor, her chest heaving. Beads of sweat trickled down her spine as she watched the end of the long space, waiting for the Balazoid called Dreck.
A shadow blurred. John shot, hitting nothing. A beam sliced across the darkness and John’s left arm dropped from his body, sparks flying from his shoulder.
“John!” Falyn screamed, fighting the urge to run to his side, to grab the gun and help defend him.
Her android didn’t make a sound. He eyed his severed limb with a very human expression of disgust, as though his arm had disappointed him by allowing itself to be shot.
The shadow crossed the corridor again, its presence closer. “John!” Falyn yelled a warning.
John rolled and shot. Particle beams cut into the walls. Lights exploded. Falyn curled her fingers into fists, the effort required to remain still painful. The Balazoid hid in an alcove, shooting and ducking, while her android surged forward, not taking cover.
John’s body jerked. His right hand dropped to the floor, brilliantly colored energy burst from his wrist and his gun skittered across the tile.
“John, come back here,” Falyn pleaded, beckoning him to her side.
“I will protect you,” her android growled, his words unnaturally stretched. He walked forward.
“You’ll be deactivated, android.” A figure dressed in black leather stepped into the corridor. He pointed his gun at John. “You—”
“Explosive device detected in main sleeping compartment,” a robotic voice notified them.
Traz. Falyn’s fading hopes revived.
“Fuck.” The Balazoid paused and turned his body slightly, his blood-red gaze shifting from left to right, his attention split between them and the bomb.
John rushed, head down, toward the assassin, his movements silent and smooth. Falyn covered her mouth, stifling her scream as he bravely hurled himself into danger, striving to protect her.
“If that’s your choice.” The Balazoid calmly aimed. With one blast of his gun, John’s head was severed from his body and his artificial skull bounced on the floor.
“No!” Falyn, unable to remain still, sprinted forward, desperate to reach her fallen android’s side.
“Stop!” the assassin ordered, swinging his gun toward her.
Falyn stopped, her brand-new shoes skidding on the tile. “I’m not armed.” She raised her hands, showing him her hands were empty. “See, Mister…Mister…”
“My enemies call me Dreck.” His voice echoed in the corridor, as though it came from someone other than him. “And I don’t have friends.” He approached her, his boots not making a sound on the floor.
“I could be your first.” Falyn smiled at him.
“I think not.” He circled her. Falyn didn’t move. “Yes. You, I’ll trade for something more valuable.” He lifted a strand of her hair. “You’ll be the key to unlocking our freedom.”
“Our?” Falyn reached out, placed her hand on his arm and closed her eyes. An image appeared in her mind of a laughing black-haired woman with tanned skin and brown sparkling eyes. “Sabria,” she gasped.
“Do not touch me!” the Balazoid bellowed, flinging her hand off him.
“Do not touch her,” an achingly familiar voice roared. Traz stood at the end of the long corridor, his guns drawn and his sister positioned beside him.
He came for me. Falyn’s heart leapt. “Dreck didn’t hurt me,” she assured Traz.
“Yet.” The Balazoid wrapped his arm around her neck and dragged her back against him. The cold muzzle of his gun pressed against Falyn’s forehead.
Fear pulsed down Falyn’s spine. “If you kill me like this, she’ll never love you,” she murmured, maintaining a soothingly quiet and steady tone, feigning a confidence she didn’t feel.
“Balazoids don’t care about love,” the assassin snapped. “And she’s leaving with him.”
“I’m not leaving with him.” Sabria stepped forward. “I’m staying with you. I have the code and we’ll disarm the bomb together. I give you my word.”
“And I’m to trust you?” Dreck sneered, pain coloring his words.
“Yes, you’re to trust me.” As Sabria walked, her body armor creaking, she held the Balazoid’s gaze, awareness arcing between them. “Only me.”
Traz is trading his sister for me. Falyn looked toward him and he nodded, his expression grim, yet accepting.
“But you have to let them leave unharmed.” Sabria placed her palm on the Balazoid’s arm and he lowered his gun, his body relaxing. “Let her go, Darius.”
The assassin released Falyn. “Go.” He shoved her forward and she stumbled. “Quickly, before I change my mind.”
“Come, Falyn,” Traz growled.
She scooped up John’s detached head and ran toward the man she loved. Traz gripped her hand tightly, his palm reassuringly rough, and he pulled her forward, moving so fast her feet skimmed the floor. He navigated the maze of corridors and Falyn followed blindly, placing her safety on his broad wounded shoulders, blood dripping down his arm, scenting the air.
“You’re hurt,” she panted, her lungs aching.
“I’ll live.” The doors to their ship slid open and he tugged her into the containment chamber, the site of their first fuck. “Now.” Traz dragged her to him, his hands gripping her ass hard. “Freedom, engage.” The ship rumbled to life around them.
Traz looked down at her, his human eye misty. “I wouldn’t have lived if…if…” He swallowed, his throat convulsing.
“I know.” Falyn cupped his cheek and brushed her thumb over his scars. “You traded your sister for me.” She watched his face, looking for signs of regret.
“Sabria wanted to be traded.” Traz’s lips quirked. “You were right, future-bender. She won’t admit it, but I think she loves him.”
“He won’t admit it either, but I know he loves her,” she shared, wishing to ease any of Traz’s remaining doubts.
Traz chuckled. “You don’t need to be a future-bender to figure that out.” He pinched her chin. “No one puts full body armor on a replaceable breeder.”
Falyn laughed. The ship jetted forward and their bodies slammed together, Traz holding her steady. “I remember this.” She smiled up at him.
“Do you remember this?” He bent his head and captured her lips with his, his mouth hard and possessive, branding her with his touch.
Chapter Eight
The doors to their shared sleeping chamber slid open and Traz paused, the sight within, proof of Falyn’s unwavering faith in him, enthralling. As instructed, she lay faceup on the covers, her ass positioned on the edge of the bed, her feet dangling above the floor, her body bare except for the collar around her slender neck.
“Good girl,” Traz murmured and Falyn’s lips curled into that tantalizingly serene smile, her cheeks flushing at his approval. “The subject has been prepped,” he observed. “We’re ready for the trial run.”
He stepped aside, allowing John to enter the room, the android’s retrieved head attached to a metallic frame, every inch of his form gleaming, buffed personally by Traz to ensure no sharp edges.
Falyn’s breath hitched, her eyes widened and a tremor rolled up her torso,
her small perfect nipples tightening. Traz smiled as her excitement confirmed her unspoken fantasy, a fantasy he was determined to bring to life.
“This test is to confirm all of the android’s parts function properly before his form is covered with artificial skin.” Traz crouched between Falyn’s spread legs and examined her pink pussy with a clinical coolness, playing the disinterested scientist. Moisture glistened on her pink folds and an intoxicating musk rose from her body. Traz’s cock hardened.
“Subject appears to be properly lubricated.” He swiped her soft skin with his finger and held it up so she saw her juices. “Status confirmed.” He made a note on his tablet. “No self-lubrication necessary.”
Traz stepped aside. “Android, mount subject.”
John strode forward, light reflecting off his silver form, and Traz admired his work, the product of hours spent in the laboratory thinking about Falyn and what would please her. Falyn’s gaze dropped to the android’s cock, his shaft smooth, devoid of ridges or veins.
John gripped her hips and Traz’s cock pressed against his pants, the contrast of metal against her pale skin visually exciting. The android positioned at her entrance, his sleek cock head skimming over her wetness.
Falyn shivered. “Cold.”
“Body temperature not adequate.” Traz recorded what he already knew, the coolness designed to enhance the experience.
John pushed his silver cock between Falyn’s pink pussy lips, and she moaned, her erotic sounds pulling at Traz’s control. He wanted to be the one to make her moan and to make her come. Her juices oozed down the android’s polished shaft and she arched, her beautiful face red with strain.
“He’s bigger.” She noticed the modification. “Not as big as you are, but bigger.”
“No one will ever fill you like I do, Falyn.” Traz slipped from his detached role to reinforce their connection. He gently brushed her hair back from her face, the white strands sticking to her flushed cheeks.