Indulgence

by Liz Crowe

  Her muscles and every survival instinct she had screamed in protest as she shifted her body to the left, placing her forehead in the path of Boyd’s boot. Light exploded in her brain, pain zinged over her skull, and everything went black.

  Chapter Twelve

  The ship shuddered. They’d finally returned to the battle station. About fraggin’ time. Rage was ready to lose his shit, the thought of Joan alone, in danger, making him want to kill some being.

  No, not some being. Crash and Gap.

  “Release me,” he bellowed. His two former friends had chained him to his seat.

  “We will.” Crash gazed down at him. “First, vow on your honor as a cyborg not to attack any being while the guards remain armed.”

  Rage narrowed his eyes.

  Gap stood beside Crash, his unmarked face furrowed with concern. “You said we had to stick to the plan.”

  He’d said that before he knew Joan was in danger.

  “Every moment you delay is a moment your female remains unprotected.” Crash raised one of his eyebrows.

  “I vow.” He didn’t have a choice. She had remained unprotected for far too long already. “If she’s dead, I’ll kill both of you with my bare hands.”

  “I know you will.” Crash dipped his head, accepting his fate. “I did what I thought was right for you and for her.” He released Rage. “Your processors weren’t functioning properly.”

  “So you decided to shoot me.” Rage stood, flexing his muscles. “Was that a logical response?”

  Crash tilted his head.

  “Frag you.” He didn’t have time for a discussion. Rage stomped through the ship, his boot heels ringing against the metal floor.

  Remember the humans will taunt you, trying to get a reaction, which would give them an excuse to kill you. The E model cyborg followed him, transmitting through their secured lines. Don’t give them what they want. Your female’s life depends upon it.

  He’d do whatever he damn well pleased. As Rage thumped down the ramp, exiting the ship, the noise over the line amplified.

  We can communicate with the cyborgs on the alternate shift. Gap expressed what he was thinking. How is that possible? They’re in their chambers.

  My cursed female. That’s how it’s possible. She’d taken action into her own small, breakable human hands, not waiting for him to return.

  Because she didn’t believe he was coming back for her. She didn’t know she was his, his to protect, his to keep.

  Boyd, that warrior wannabe, stood by their ship, a smirk on his bruised face, a long gun in his hands. One of his hands was wrapped in medical binding.

  Rage knew his feisty female was responsible for that also. He inhaled and any satisfaction that he felt disappeared. He smelled her scent on the guard.

  “We’ve been waiting for you, machine, eager for the next stage of fun to start.” Boyd lifted his long gun, reminding him who held the power.

  For now.

  He touched her. Rage’s vision turned red. While I was stunned into stillness on that cursed planet, he was violating my female.

  You can kill both him and me after he disarms. Crash sounded as tormented as Rage felt.

  He wanted to blame his friend for Boyd’s actions but the bitter truth was, Crash was right. He hadn’t been thinking rationally, would have gotten himself killed and not been able to help Joan now.

  His error wasn’t failing to return early. Rage marched toward his chambers. It was leaving her unprotected in the first place.

  Your first priority is to ensure your female is safe. Crash continued to spew soothing reason. You can’t protect her if you’re dead.

  He’s injured. I can take him. He could pivot on his heels, slash the guard’s neck with one of his daggers. Rage’s fingers twitched. Boyd’s skull would be bouncing on the floor before he had time to react.

  The other guards will come to his rescue. You can’t risk it.

  Why does my guard smell like—

  Shut up, Gap. Crash didn’t respond fast enough. Rage heard the kid.

  All of the guards had violated her. His fingers curled into massive fists. She was small and there were so many of them, the males bigger, stronger. There wouldn’t be anything left of her, of his brave, beautiful female.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he felt fear but he felt it now. If he lost her—

  No, he wouldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.

  And the humans would pay for their treachery.

  Every non-cyborg, except for my female, dies. He opened the transmission to all of the cyborgs on the station. Slowly, painfully. Take them apart piece by piece. Use prolongers if they’re available.

  The cyborgs cheered. They didn’t know the reason for the order. They didn’t realize that his female had been tortured, could have been killed.

  He’d allowed that to happen, failed in his duty to safeguard her. Rage’s knuckles whitened. He should have figured out a way to take her with him, should have told her his plans, should have done something, anything.

  He walked as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. Humans watched him as he passed them. He smelled her on more of the males, heard the whispers.

  “Tits got what she deserved.”

  “No other female would dare to take one of our positions after this.”

  “It’ll kill her like it did the last engineer. There will be nothing left of her.”

  She was alive. Some of the tension in Rage’s shoulders eased. He didn’t know what state she was in but she had survived. Because that was what she was, what both of them were—survivors.

  Rage, talk to me. He heard the concern in Crash’s transmission. Are you holding it together?

  He was holding it together, barely. Not having the emotional bandwidth to reply, Rage put his vision and auditory on broadcast, allowing his friend and every other cyborg to see and hear everything he did.

  You’re close to your chambers. Crash talked as much as Joan. You can do this.

  He would do this, for his female. The hallway seemed endlessly long, each step excruciatingly slow.

  “We have a surprise for you this planet rotation.” Boyd jabbed the long gun into Rage’s back. “Because you’ve been such a good killing machine.” His chuckle held no humor.

  Rage gritted his teeth, not responding. Joan was the only human to see him as something other than a machine, as more than a weapon to be used. She cared for him, was willing to die for him.

  And, because of his lack of action, she’d been harmed. He dreaded finding out how badly.

  “We had our fun.” Boyd slapped his palm against the access panel. The door slid open. “Now, it’s your turn.”

  Rage stepped forward. Metal was wedged under the inner door, preventing it from closing, and his chambers were a mess.

  He breathed in the scent of cum and blood. The combination should have excited him—breeding and fighting was what he was designed to do.

  Instead, it turned his stomach. The violence was against his female. The breeding wasn’t consensual. It was torture and it repulsed him. A low growl rolled up his chest.

  “Kill her slowly.” Boyd laughed.

  Kill her? He’d rip the guard’s head off. Rage turned. The door had already closed. He could pry it open.

  He wouldn’t. Joan needed him. For the first time in his lifespan, he put killing second. He rushed through the chambers, following her scent, stopped when he spotted the lump on the floor.

  That was his female? “Joan.” His legs collapsed under him. His knees smacked against the hard tile, jarring his physique. Rage didn’t register the impact, his gaze on her naked form.

  She was covered with blood, cum and other body fluids, her skin sliced open, her face so badly beaten, he couldn’t see her eyes. He placed one of his palms on her chest. The rise and fall was shallow and strained. Her breath whistled.

  She lived, but the pain. Fraggin’ hole. The pain she must have felt, must still feel.

  He couldn�
�t deal with it. Couldn’t bear the sight of Joan suffering.

  Rage threw back his head and roared, rattling the metal fragments scattered around him, filling the chambers with the sounds of his horror, his regret, his sorrow. They did this to her, the humans, and they would all die.

  The overlapping flows of chatter on the secured line abruptly ceased. The space was silent, except for Joan’s breathing. The humans had stopped her constant talking, and that frightened him, so damn much.

  You’re broadcasting this to every cyborg on the station. Crash breached the quiet.

  Don’t care. Rage bent over Joan and gently brushed the guck from her face, flicking it onto the floor. C model cyborgs were possessive. They’d never touch a female covered with another male’s scent.

  But Joan wasn’t simply a female. She was his female. He pressed his lips to hers and licked the swollen, broken flesh, healing her with his nanocybotics.

  What can we do? Crash asked.

  Make them pay.

  The buzz on the secured line resumed, cyborgs fervently vowing to avenge his female. That should have been Rage’s job. He was their top warrior. She was his to protect.

  Killing wasn’t his priority. All of his attention was on Joan, on healing her. He laved her flattened nose. His saliva wouldn’t be enough. Her entire form was fractured, the extent of her damage squeezing his heart.

  To restore her to full health, he’d have to breed with her, becoming another in a long list of males to violate her. Rage discarded his body armor, stripping naked. Would she forgive him for this, for everything he did and didn’t do?

  Did he deserve forgiveness? He carefully parted her legs and lowered himself over her. His mind recoiled at the thought of doing this, of hurting her more.

  “I’ll serve you as you served me, little female.” It didn’t matter the cost to him. Rage drew on a memory of their first meeting, how she had kneeled naked before him, her eyes bright, her mouth moving.

  He hardened, pushed into her, pumped three times and forced his release. His nanocybotics attacked the remnants of the other males first, dissolving their essence, their disgusting scents.

  Rage smelled more of her and less of them. He waited for five, six heartbeats, kissing her face clean, murmuring that she had to come back to him, that she was strong, clever, cunning, and he needed her. He couldn’t bear the silence, the stillness.

  Then he repeated the process, pouring everything he had into the female he couldn’t live without, knowing the act of saving her might cause her to hate him forever.

  *****

  Time passed. Rage didn’t know how much time. His vision was bleary and his body weak, drained. The door slid open and Gap sauntered into the chambers, his face no longer as boyish, as unlined as it once was.

  “I killed your guard.” He tossed a severed hand on a chair. “Sorry. I meant only to remove his hand but then he started talking about cyborgs and your female and I had to hurt him. One slice of my dagger became fifty and eventually the human’s flimsy heart stopped beating. They can’t take much, even with prolongers.”

  “Don’t care.” Rage groaned as he found release yet again. There was pleasure in the act now, his nanocybotics having repaired Joan’s pussy, tightening her around him, and that increased his guilt. His female was damaged. He shouldn’t be feeling any bliss.

  “Crash says he’s saving the Commander for you.”

  Rage grunted. He’d smelled the male on Joan. He’d enjoy punishing him for hurting her, relaying some of his self-hatred to the Commander.

  “He also sent me here to help you.” The young cyborg stood over him, gazing down at Joan.

  Her bones had realigned and were starting to mend. Her wounds had closed, the bleeding stopped. Her eyes were almost visible, the tips of her brown eyelashes peeking between her swollen skin. Rage had licked the top of her body clean, hadn’t yet risked moving her to clean her back.

  “Do you want me to take a turn?” Gap waved his hand over her.

  “You will never touch my female.” Rage glared at him. “She’s mine, mine to care for, mine to heal, mine to breed with.”

  “I don’t want to touch her.” The cyborg pulled the energy and nourishment tubes closer. “She smells like you but you’re low on fluids.” He bent down, inserted the ends into Rage’s wrists. “You’ll damage her if you collapse.”

  Rage’s eyelids fluttered as the much-needed inputs coursed through his form. “Thank you.” He did need the energy boost.

  The kid dragged a chair over to him and sat. “She has as many scars as you do now.”

  “Her scars will heal.” He hoped. Rage would care for her with or without them. They’d be a badge of honor, proof that his female was strong. But he didn’t want her to remember her assault every time she looked in a reflective surface.

  He brushed back some of her curly brown hair and kissed the lump on her forehead. That she’d had to live through it was bad enough.

  “Could we have prevented this if we’d returned early?” Concern reflected in Gap’s human-looking eyes.

  “No.” Rage sighed. “Crash was right. The humans would have killed me and then they would have killed her. You saved her life by stopping me.”

  “Good.” His friend exhaled.

  Rage eased in and out of his unconscious female once, twice, three times and found release. Her pussy overflowed with his cum. His arms and legs were stiff from bracing himself upward.

  “Is breeding more enjoyable when the female is online?” Gap leaned forward, unabashedly observing him.

  “Much,” Rage grunted. “This is healing, not breeding.” He pressed his lips between Joan’s eyebrows. Would she forgive him for touching her like this? “Breeding with the right female is an unmatched experience.” One he might not have again.

  The cyborg raised his eyebrows. “It’s better than fighting?”

  “Yes.” He would give up a lifespan of battle for one more opportunity to feel Joan’s fingers gripping his shoulders, her legs around his waist, her hips hitching upward to meet his.

  “Then why would you store your female elsewhere?” Gap tilted his head. “Why would you want to go one planet rotation without her?”

  Rage had begun to wonder the same thing.

  “When I find my female, I’ll keep her with me,” the young cyborg babbled. “If the Homeland won’t accept her, I’ll find a new planet or we’ll stay on a battle station. By then, your female will have improved my mechanics and you will have shown me all of your fighting tactics. I’ll be a powerful cyborg, able to do whatever I want, go wherever I please.”

  Gap had reason for optimism. He hadn’t almost gotten his female killed, hadn’t left her unprotected, allowed other males to violate her, hurt her.

  Rage licked the dark purple bruises on Joan’s shoulder. He might be able to heal her body but her trust would be more difficult.

  He lifted his head and gazed down at her. It couldn’t be. He closed his eyes, counted to three, opened them again. It was.

  Her lips were moving.

  “Joan?” Rage cocked his right ear closer. Even with his superior hearing, he couldn’t make out the words. “I’m here, little engineer. You’re safe. I’ll protect you.” Forever, he vowed. “There’s nothing to fear.” He skimmed her lips with his. “No one will harm you ever again.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Joan lay in a field of gold, warmth bubbling over her naked skin, her arms and legs limp, her body relaxed. She was protected, safe, loved, yet conscious of the danger surrounding her.

  Darkness hovered at the edges of this world, sinister and cold. She’d experienced it once. The hurt had seemed endless, striking every part of her body. It had been so intense, she’d thought she wouldn’t survive it.

  Then the sun had found her and plucked her from the misery, from the pain, engulfing her with its tantalizing heat. Its rays weighed heavily upon her form and filled her pussy, stretching her open.

  She loved it, wanted to sta
y in the light forever.

  “Come back to me,” a stern voice ordered.

  Instinctively, her senses sharpened and her spine straightened. That movement set off a landslide of pain within her. She knew the owner of the voice, wanted, needed to obey him, but she didn’t know how.

  Where was he? She gazed around her, seeing only the darkness on the horizon. How could she come back to him when she didn’t know his location?

  “Be still, little female. You’ll hurt yourself.”

  This command she could obey. She gazed upward into the blinding brightness and searched her brain for the male’s identity. Numbers streamed across her mind. They didn’t feel right, didn’t feel like a name she’d use for him.

  She couldn’t picture his face, couldn’t remember how she’d met him. All she knew was she trusted him, cared for him. He was hers.

  “Mine.” Her voice was strange, hoarse, and her throat ached.

  “Yes, yours.” Heat encased her hand, pressed against her palm. “You own me. Always.”

  Another voice murmured. She shivered, shrinking away from the new male. He didn’t belong in her world.

  “Go help Crash. You’re scaring her.” There was a long pause, more murmurs. “Use your processors, Gap. My female hasn’t spoken with you, doesn’t recognize your voice. She was attacked and thinks you’re one of them.” Her male was angry.

  Angry. “Rage.” That was his name.

  “I’m here, Joan.” Warmth branded her forehead, her cheeks. “Open your eyes for me. Can you do that?”

  Weren’t her eyes already open? He sounded certain that they weren’t. She lifted her eyelids. That took effort and when her eyelashes parted, the brightness doubled, causing sharp shards of pain to zing through her brain.

  Her vision was foggy, a blur of gray. Two orbs of brilliant blue cut through the haze. “Sir.” That form of address felt more natural. She attempted to raise her hand.

  “That’s it, female.” He helped her, curving her palm over his firm skin. The raised flesh of a scar interrupted the smoothness. A trickle of moisture coated her fingertips. It couldn’t be tears. Her male would never cry.