Indulgence

by Liz Crowe

  “Hmmm…” She arched her back, squirming under him. “I’ll miss this, sir. I’ll miss you.”

  “No, you won’t.” She talked as though she was leaving him and he didn’t like that. “You’re mine. I’m keeping you.”

  “But--”

  “No buts.” Rage rammed two of his fingers into her pussy and she squeaked. He smiled smugly. That should shut her up.

  He ravished her again and again, not allowing her an opportunity to draw a deep breath, to speak. Her juices ran down his hand, staining his skin with her musk, with her heat. Intent on driving her as mad as she drove him, he brushed her clit with his thumb, spread his fingers inside her.

  “Yes. Good. Oh. Yes,” she babbled nonsense, pushing back on him. “Rage, more.” He added a finger. “Oh. Oh. Yes. So good.”

  It did feel good. Rage gave her four more hard pumps and then removed his fingers.

  “No. No. Please.”

  He ignored her protests, sucking her juices off his skin. “You’re fertile, female.” That made no sense. How could she, a human female, be at the height of fertility for fifteen consecutive planet rotations?

  It didn’t matter. Rage pushed his concerns away. They wouldn’t create offspring. He’d never have more than this female bent over before him, her ass presented to him like a gift from the designer.

  She was more than enough for him, more than he’d ever dreamed he’d have. He prodded her pussy with his cock head, finding her tight entrance. Heat radiated from her. Rage slowly entered his female, delighting in the squeeze of her inner walls around his tip.

  Joan muttered words of encouragement, her voice flowing over him, an endless wave of sound he could lose himself in. He gripped her hips and slid deeper and deeper, his female encompassing him, an emotional layer of protection from the hurtful worlds as effective as any body armor.

  His base touched her pussy lips, the pinch against his ball exquisite. Rage closed his eyes, remained still, and simply was, committing every nuance to his memories, both organic and mechanic, this dual capture ensuring he’d never forget.

  His female massaged him with her pussy, gently closing around his shaft and then releasing, closing and then releasing. Frag. She was gifted. Sweat beaded on his forehead, each intimate caress stripping more of his control.

  Which was dangerous. He was a primitive C Model cyborg. Restraint wasn’t hardwired into his design.

  Seeking to reestablish his dominance over her, he rocked, pushing in and out of her pussy, even this leisurely breeding swaying her body. Joan moved with him, whispering her approval, her encouragement escalating his enjoyment. She wanted this, wanted him.

  Rage layered his body over hers, sliding his skin along hers. He was much larger than his little female, covering her completely. Her head rested in the center of his chest, her curly out of control hair pillowing his abs.

  Her pussy constricted around his cock and he gritted his teeth, struggling to contain his response, his body wishing to come, to spill its seed.

  It took several moments before he could speak. “You like being captured by your cyborg.”

  “Yes, sir.” Her voice was muffled. “I feel safe, protected.”

  “You are.” He kissed the top of her head, increasing his pace. “No one will hurt you, little engineer.” Not while he was with her.

  Rage bred with her harder, faster, smacking his hips against her ass, giving her an erotic demonstration of his strength. The horizontal support rocked, threatened to fall over. He clasped the far edge, securing it.

  Joan panted, her sentences becoming shorter, her words making less sense. With his female, he always knew what she thought, what she was feeling, her emotions reflected in her verbal barrage.

  Rage liked that. There was no guessing. When she was happy, he knew it. When she wasn’t, he knew that too. He could take action, please her.

  “Harder.” She moved backward, into his thrusts.

  He obeyed her command, snapping his hips forward, grunting. His power was subconsciously tempered. Although Rage was lost in a passion-filled haze, his machine held his actions in check, both sides of him devoted to Joan, to her safety, her bliss.

  “Yes, yes.” She quivered, repeating this over and over.

  That wasn’t the word he wanted to hear on her lips. “Rage.” He drove into her, his ball smacking against her skin. “Call my name, female. Tell the worlds who is breeding with you.”

  “Rage.” She sweetly complied, his name a breathy plea. “Rage. Rage.”

  “Louder.” He matched his rhythm to her cries. She was his focus, his everything. Her fingers curled on the sleeping support. Her inner walls closed around him.

  The tightness, the heat of her pussy was too much, too good. “Joan.” He thrust deep and ground against her. She screamed his name, clenched around his shaft and he bellowed, pouring all of himself into her, filling her with his seed.

  She reared back, slapping her spine against his chest, and dropped. He hooked one of his arms around her, not allowing her to fall. His little female fought him, writhing like a wild thing. He held her easily, drove into her one, two more times, and then became still.

  Fraggin’ hell. She destroyed him. Every time he bred with her.

  “Rage.” Her voice was hoarse.

  “Easy, female.” He lifted her onto the horizontal support, climbed onto the surface with her and folded her form into his. She felt right there, as though she was made for him.

  “You have to leave.” Joan returned to her previous worries. “They plan to decommission you. Do you know what that means?”

  He grunted, knowing exactly what that meant. His previous handlers would gleefully tell him about the cyborgs previously decommissioned, friends, comrades, sliced into pieces while remaining conscious.

  “They’ll kill you.” She shuddered. “In the most painful way possible. I can survive anything, but not your death.” She wrapped his arms tighter around her, using him as a covering. “Promise me you’ll escape during this repositioning.”

  That promise would result in his death if she betrayed him. Rage burrowed his face into her hair, inhaling her tantalizing fragrance. He needed her help to find the third tracking device. Taking her with him would be easier if she knew about his plans.

  But more than that, he wanted to trust her. He wanted to believe she wasn’t like the other humans he knew. He wanted her to truly be his, in all ways.

  Rage linked his fingers with Joan’s. “I will escape during this repositioning.”

  “Thank the stars.”

  He relaxed. The tension easing from her body couldn’t be feigned. She was genuinely relieved, sincerely wanted him to escape, be free.

  “I’ll do what I can to help you, tell you everything I know.” She wiggled against him, brushing her ass against his cock, reawakening his need for her. “I created a recording for Crash. He can be trusted, right?” She glanced over her shoulder.

  She was as paranoid as he was. He gazed at her with a mixture of approval and arousal. “I trust Crash and Gap with my life.”

  “Good because you’ll need them.” She nodded. “You can’t do this alone.”

  He was no longer alone. He had her.

  Rage listened to her disjointed plotting, not saying anything about his own. He wouldn’t put her in more danger than she was already in, wouldn’t share all of his plans with her until after he returned from the next deployment. Joan was a terrible liar, her concerns written over her gorgeous face, and he wouldn’t give the human males another reason to attack her, to torture her to find out what he would do.

  He pulled her closer to him. He’d keep her safe.

  Chapter Nine

  Rage trusted her.

  He admitted he planned to escape. Warmth blossomed in Joan’s chest. They were now working together, as a couple, to ensure he was successful.

  He shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, standing with his back to her, impatiently waiting for her to remove the th
ird tracking device. She sprayed his gray skin liberally with the pain inhibitor, ensuring he felt nothing.

  “Did Crash, at least, use pain inhibitors on you before he searched?”

  Rage grunted, which she interpreted as a no. The pain he suffered, the stripes of new skin over his body were her fault. She didn’t tell him where the device was, wanting him to ask her for help, not knowing he’d try to find it himself. She’d put her needs before his and he’d paid the price.

  That wouldn’t happen again. She pinched the skin between his shoulder blades. “Can you feel that, sir?”

  He gave another grunt.

  Rage wasn’t the most vocal being but that was okay. She understood him. Joan counted down the vertebrate from his skull. “It’s positioned over the twelfth vertebrate, sir. I mentioned that on my message to Crash.”

  “You shouldn’t be leaving messages for Crash.” His deep voice rolled over her. “You’re my female.”

  He was a possessive bastard. “I left the message for your benefit.” She raised the laser scalpel, her hands shaking. This had to be done. She had to hurt him to free him. “Remain still, sir.”

  She made the smallest incision possible. His rich red blood seeped from the wound, making her light-headed. She wiped the area with a cleaning cloth, swapped the laser scalpel for the grippers, and carefully entered his body, navigating between two metal plates.

  “Don’t yank the device out.” She located the release. “There’s a button on one end. Press it and the device will separate from your bone with no damage.” She extracted it. “See?” She showed it to him.

  His brilliant blue eyes gleamed. “Very good, female.” The cut pulled together, sealed with a layer of new skin.

  She pressed her lips against the healing wound.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  “I’m kissing it better.” She beamed. “As I did with your wrists.”

  “I saw no significant improvement.”

  “Noted, sir.” Joan laughed. For all of his grumbling, he enjoyed being fussed over. “I’m taping your tracking device in place.”

  She cleaned the tiny machine, gingerly set it over the rapidly healing wound, and sealed it with medical tape. Although there was a lump, the tape blended with his skin. From a distance, no one would detect the modification.

  No one, except for herself, should see his naked body before he left on deployment. The medical tape was a precaution. She wasn’t taking any chances with her cyborg’s safety.

  Joan moved the elevation platform around Rage’s big body. He had to leave her. There was no other choice. She skimmed her fingertips over his defined chest, unable to resist touching him, knowing their time together was limited.

  “This is the memory chip for Crash.” She pressed the electronics against his left pec, over his cyborg heart. “It contains everything I could recall, any intelligence I thought might be useful to you.” She covered it with medical tape also.

  Her fingers flattened over the spot. The triple beat of his heart thumped against her palm. “I won’t ask you where you’re going, sir.” She didn’t want that information, worrying that if she was interrogated, she might divulge his secrets. “I know there will be fighting.” Her lips curled upward. “You’re happiest in battle.”

  Rage opened his mouth as though to protest, then closed it once more.

  She’d watched the recordings. He thrived in the combat zone. “But they will be battles you believe in, causes that you’re passionate about.” She petted his pecs, his abs, and his muscles rippled under her palms. “You’ll find a female who serves you as well as I do.” She blinked back her shameful tears, sadness welling within her. “How could she not serve you? You’re magnificent.” And she was fortunate to know him.

  “You’re my female.” His voice was gruff. “I only have one cock. I don’t need any being other than you.”

  “I--”

  “Kneel.”

  Joan sank to the floor, obeying him, and looked up at his blunt, scarred countenance. He gazed down at her, pride gleaming in his eyes.

  When he didn’t return, she’d die. Either the other engineers would launch that unified attack Denny warned her about or Commander Lewis would reprimand her for losing her cyborg, send her to the front lines to be slaughtered by the Mantidae.

  All she had was this moment.

  They stared at each other, a lifespan of meaning flowing between them. He cared for her and she cared for him, more than she’d ever cared for another being. They didn’t have to say the words. Their emotions filled the air, heavy, poignant, real.

  Rage reached out, traced the curve of her cheek, outlining her lips with his fingertips, his touch gentle, almost loving. Her eyelashes fluttered. He learned her face, smoothing her eyebrows, brushing back her curls.

  It was a sweet unexpected gesture from her rough warrior cyborg, one she’d hold in her heart forever.

  “You’ll stay in our chambers while I’m gone.”

  She didn’t answer. That was one order she couldn’t obey. He was never returning and she couldn’t do everything she could to ensure his escape was a success from their chambers.

  “Joan,” he growled.

  Would it give him peace to believe her safe in their chambers? “I’ll leave our chambers only when it is necessary, sir.” She wouldn’t lie to him.

  He narrowed his eyes, his black eyebrows lowering, accentuating the primitiveness of his countenance. “You won’t take foolish risks.”

  “I won’t, sir.” That, she could assure him. The longer she stayed alive, the more help she could give him.

  “You’re a survivor.”

  “You are too, sir.” She smiled up at him. In this way, they were the same. “Should I bring you your armor?”

  “Not now.” Rage didn’t look away from her, continuing to touch her face.

  They neared the time for deployment. Her cyborg didn’t like delays. Yet, this planet rotation, he wasn’t concerned.

  Because this would be the last time they spent together and he didn’t want it to end. Her heart warmed.

  Joan remained still, kneeling before him. Cyborg and human, warrior and engineer, male and female, different yet one. Their breaths were in sync, their gazes locked.

  “You’re silent, female.”

  “I can’t express what I’m feeling, sir.” Her voice was hoarse.

  “That’s a first.” His lips curled into a rare smile and her breath hitched. “Bring me my armor. Quickly.”

  She jumped to her feet, legs aching, and rushed to the wall panel. He followed, lessening the distance she’d have to heave the heavy body armor.

  As she dressed him, she babbled, spewing the nonsense he often accused her of sharing, seeking to calm her nerves, control her sadness, fill the quiet. Rage answered her questions with grunts and short sentences.

  He filled his sheaths with weapons, slung long guns over his shoulders.

  “Shouldn’t you take all of them, sir?” She gazed at the daggers and guns remaining in the wall panel.

  “That would arouse suspicion.” He adjusted one of the straps. “I carry what I normally carry and that’s all.”

  That was smart. She nodded. “Then may I use one or two of your daggers?” He wouldn’t need them.

  “Did you lose yours?” He selected two, handed them to her.

  She clasped them, the metal cool against her palms. “I used my dagger this planet rotation and was unable to retrieve it.”

  “Because he lived.” Rage shook his head. “Strike to kill, female. A wounded enemy always seeks revenge.”

  She’d been lucky to escape with her life. Joan dipped her head.

  “Dress,” he commanded.

  She obeyed, quickly donning her flight suit, placing the daggers in the pockets. He plucked at her lapels, straightening them. He’d never helped her dress in the past. It was as though he couldn’t stop himself from touching her.

  That lightened Joan’s spirits. She slipped
her feet into her boots, fastened them.

  Rage turned his head. “That human male is here.” He had less respect for Boyd than she did.

  Their time together was over. “Sir.” She stepped toward him, pressing her curves into his armor-covered muscle. “Could you kiss me one last time?” She was too short to reach his mouth and the elevation platform was too far away to use.

  “One more time,” he corrected, his eyes flashing with heated emotion, his face hardening. “Your kisses are mine and mine alone, Joan.” He swooped down to capture her lips. The force of his embrace drove her head back. He cradled her skull, holding her in place.

  Joan plunged her tongue into his mouth, desperate to taste him. He countered, pushing her backward, taking control, whipping her with his tongue, punishing her. She submitted to his aggression, allowing herself to be disciplined, her lips humming, her arousal building.

  She wanted him again, always, and she didn’t know how she’d live without him. If she would live. She doubted she’d survive for long after his escape.

  Joan clung to Rage’s shoulders. He straightened, lifting her off the floor. Her feet dangled. Her breasts were flattened against his chest. Her mouth was filled with his nanocybotics, with his unique flavor.

  “Fraggin’ hole.” He pulled his head back. “You’ll get us both decommissioned, female.” He slid her down, over his hard form, until her boots touched the floor. “You will act as normally as possible.” He ran his palms over her hair. “We can’t arouse suspicion.”

  She touched her lips, still feeling him inside her. “Yes, sir.”

  The look Rage gave her said he didn’t believe her. “Go.” He turned her, slapped her ass. A sexy heat radiated from the point of impact. “He waits.”

  Joan marched toward the inner door, placed her hand on the access panel. The metal slid apart, revealing Boyd’s smirking face. She swallowed her disgust, stepped forward. “Boyd.”

  “Tits.” He leered at her chest. “Are you looking forward to this repositioning? I certainly am.” He grabbed his groin.