by Cynthia Sax
Dita sagged against him, drained, happy. He ran his hands over her quivering form, his expression satisfied. The male was in control and he realized that.
“You’re merciless.” She summoned a smile.
“I’m a monster.” His hands returned to her breasts. “That was one.”
He pinched her nipples, pulled on that sensitive flesh and Dita whimpered. She’d just come. She should be sated. But he knew her body, knew her penchant for pain, knew how she’d react to it, to him. Her wetness bathed the base of his cock. Her pussy pulsed with a soul deep desire. “Kralj.”
“Mount me.” He curved his palms under her ass and raised her high above him, that show of strength farther eroding her willpower.
Her opponent had unlimited power, knowledge, intent. It would be a challenge to defeat him, almost foolhardy. If it weren’t for her pride, she wouldn’t attempt it.
But she was determined to win, to achieve the impossible, to make him come before he gave her satisfaction a second time. Dita jutted her jaw and positioned his tip at her entrance. His hardness bumped against her sensitive flesh and she shuddered, the contact amplified by expectation.
He lowered her and she moaned. It felt so good, their joining. It was the belonging she’d always searched for, a safe place, a sanctuary in a brutal world.
Dita took his girth, all of his power into her body, his cockhead forcing her inner walls farther apart, reshaping her to fit him. The male she loved, the male who loved her back, was inside her.
Kralj had saved her life. His blood flowed through her veins, his nanohumanics changing her forever. He had given her a part of himself in the desert, a link that would never be severed, and he gave her a part of himself now.
She was fully seated on him, her pussy lips touching his base. “We’re connected.” Dita met Kralj’s gaze. In the blackness of his eyes, she saw his beast. It was hungry, wanting her, but it would never hurt her. “Do you feel it?”
“I feel it too much,” he rumbled. The air inside the chamber circulated faster and faster. Her male’s renowned restraint was slipping.
She leaned forward and bracketed his handsome face with her palms. “Focus on me.” She stroked his cheeks, one smooth, the other ridged with scars. “Give me your power.”
They gazed at each other for four, five, six heartbeats.
“You’re tight, hot, wet, mine.” Kralj breathed deeply.
He was inhaling her scent. That knowledge heated her to the core, her wetness soaking his shaft, her nipples tightening even more.
“With one squeeze of your thighs, you could have won the challenge,” he confessed. “My willpower was frayed. I would have come before I had given you release a second time.”
That victory would have cost lives. She had to absorb some of his power before he relinquished his control. If she didn’t, beings died.
“I don’t want the easy win, handsome.” She grinned at him. “I want to earn it.”
Kralj’s dark eyes glowed. “You will earn it.” He lifted her upward. Her pussy lips clung to him, slicking his flesh.
When she reached his rim, he met her gaze. He held her there for one, two heartbeats. Dita’s body trembled. She knew what he planned to do, both wanted and dreaded it.
He dropped her.
Her ass smacked against his thighs. Pain and pleasure meshed, the emotions amplifying each other. She clenched his shaft, instinctively holding onto him.
They both moaned.
Kralj repeated the motion, lifting her, dropping her, lifting her, dropping her. She connected with his hard muscle again and again, her breasts jiggling.
She was riding her powerful male. He was underneath her, his abs rippling, his fit physique hers to utilize and she would utilize him. She wanted all of him, wouldn’t be satisfied with less.
“Faster,” Dita urged, clasping his arms, trying to speed the pace. “Harder.”
Kralj grunted and frustratingly maintained his slow, steady tempo, her stubborn male refusing to be pushed. His gaze was fixed on her face, his expression solemn, intense. His shadow coiled around them, the darkness creating intimacy. The two of them were in a private sanctuary, his attention on her, her attention on him.
They weren’t normal beings and this wasn’t a normal fuck.
The wind Kralj had created plucked at Dita’s curls. The sleeping support shook. The weapons on the walls rattled.
Yet it was perfect, meant to be.
“Can you sense it?” Dita panted, cupping her breasts. “How right this is?” She constricted around his shaft, tightening their connection. “Your monster playing with mine?”
“Yes.” The skin pulled tight over Kralj’s cheekbones. “So right.” Fires burned in his eyes. “You.” He thrust upward as he drove her down on him, shaking her body. “Me.”
Kralj ravished her and she ravished him right back, rippling her pussy walls over his shaft, taunting him with sexy sounds, with seductive looks. She couldn’t control her rise and fall. Her small size hindered that action. But she could and would torment him in other ways.
“Mate.” Growls escaped Kralj’s lips, his beast wrestling for dominance. “Mine.”
That declaration was low and deep and arousing as fuck, his voice reaching the very center of her, drawing forth a primal urge she battled to resist. “Kralj.” His name was a plea for mercy.
She loved a monster and he offered no leniency, moving under her, winding her body tighter and tighter and tighter. She couldn’t bear it. She—
He thrust upward, slapping his base against her feminine folds, severing her grip on reality.
“Mine,” Dita shrieked, grasping his arms with her fingers, his cock with her pussy.
“Mine,” Kralj roared, driving into her with a soul-bending force. The ceiling above them cracked. Weapons fell to the floor, clattering against the tile. Hard jets of nanohumanic-infused cum hit her intimate flesh and an ecstasy bordering on pain tore her apart.
She convulsed, her teeth clattering, her gaze unfocused. He came again and again, filling her with warmth, with his essence, the bliss divine. Colors danced in front of her eyes. Sounds swelled and muted. Every part of her bubbled, tingled, was vividly alive.
“Love.” Dita collapsed, drained, her body folding over his. “Love you.” Her brain had been razed by passion and she didn’t know much else but she did know that.
She loved this male with all of her heart.
He strapped his arms around her, his skin damp from their exertions. “I love you, little one.”
She rested her cheek on his chest. “I didn’t win.” She came first. “But I certainly didn’t lose.”
“This was a reprimand.” Kralj splayed his fingers over her bare back, as though he wished to touch as much of her as possible. “Not a reward.”
Dita laughed. “Is there a difference?”
She loved his reprimands, delighted in the feel of his coarse palm against her tender ass.
“Only you would ask if there was a difference between a reprimand and a reward.” He pulled her up until she stared straight into his dark eyes. “You’re dangerous. I knew that when I met you.”
“You recognized my fierce assassin skills?” Dita’s chest puffed out with pride.
He shook his head, his expression bemused. “I recognized who you were to me.”
“A fellow monster?”
“A fellow monster, my mate, the female I’m destined to love for my long lifespan, the only being who could make me lose control.” Kralj skimmed his lips over hers, his light teasing kiss enchanting Dita. “My heart realized you were a threat.”
She beamed at him. “You didn’t heed that warning.”
“I tried.” He placed her palm on his scarred cheek. “But, with one touch of your hand, you defeated me. I was yours from that moment on.”
“And I was yours.” She stroked her handsome male’s face, basking in his devotion. “Only two powerful beings could experience feelings this strong.”
&nbs
p; “Only two monsters could love this intensely.” His eyes gleamed.
He rolled her onto her back and Dita laughed, clutching his wide shoulders.
She wouldn’t trade her far-from-normal life for anything in the universe.
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Website: CynthiaSax.com
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Other Books by Cynthia Sax
Cyborg Sizzle Series
Releasing Rage
Breathing Vapor
Being Green
Crash And Burn
Defying Death
Chasing Mayhem
Jumping Barrel
Hers To Command
Excerpt – Releasing Rage
Cynthia Sax
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. Beca
use 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?”
“Do I have a choice?” His words were bitter.
“Yes.” Joan looked upward, meeting his gaze. “You know how best to maximize your kill rates. Within these chambers, I serve you.”
His eyes flashed with blue currents of energy. “Stop with your lies. I won’t believe them.”
“You’re bigger, stronger, think you’re more intelligent.” She lifted her chin. “Why would I lie to you?”
“I’ll test you, little engineer, and if you fail, you’ll die.”
About Cynthia Sax
USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes contemporary, SciFi and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.
She lives in a world filled with magic and romance. Although her heroes may not always say, “I love you,” they will do anything for the women they adore. They live passionately. They play hard. They love the same women forever.
Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research, while they travel the world together, meeting fascinating people and finding inspiration in exotic places such as Istanbul, Bali, and Chicago.
Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled release day newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com
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