by Liz Crowe
Rage struck first, swinging his two swords, the weapons blurring. Vector blocked, sparks flying from points of contact. Strike. Block. Strike. Block. The sound of metal hitting metal rang through the space. Their arms blurred, the action too quick for her human eyes to follow.
Then the males bounced backward. Sweat trickled down their cheeks, the moisture accentuating Rage’s scars.
“They’re equally matched.” There was awe in Barrel’s voice.
“Rage hasn’t fought in twenty-two planet rotations.” Crash came to his friend’s defense. “He’s also exerted himself in other ways.” He glanced at Joan.
Her face heated. Breeding with Rage before he went into mock battle might not have the most intelligent decision.
But they’d been celebrating their good fortune. She hugged her stomach.
Her breath caught as Vector surged forward. Rage was now on the defensive, catching swords with his own. He grunted under the strain.
On the third blow, he lowered his body. Oh, fuck. Joan’s heart pounded. Rage shot upward, flung Vector’s swords away from him, and swung his own blades, grazing Vector’s armor-clad stomach.
“Frag.” Vector jumped backward, out of reach. “You’re strong.”
“My female upgraded my mechanics.” Rage gave Joan all of the credit. Cyborgs in the viewing area looked toward her and she glowed.
“Impressive.” Vector inclined his head. “Would she upgrade mine also?”
“Yes, but it won’t help you with this battle.” Her dominant cyborg attacked. His opponent ducked and dodged the blow, skimming his blade over Rage’s right shoulder.
Armor shredded. Blood spurted, her cyborg’s blood. Joan felt faint. Rage, that fool, laughed, and did the same to Vector’s left thigh.
The battle became more brutal, less civilized. The two males hacked at each other, fighting to win. Sparks lit their faces, their expressions dark. They kicked and twisted their torsos, using their entire bodies to attack and defend.
Rage struck Vector once, twice, three times, stripping his armor and drawing blood. Vector countered, landing a bone-jarring blow on Rage.
Joan winced. “This is a mock battle. He can’t die. This is a mock battle. He can’t die,” she whispered over and over to herself.
“He’s endured worse.” Crash tried to comfort her.
“Once, when we were fighting the Mantidae, they severed his right arm to the core,” Barrel reminisced. “He fought with his left arm and survived.”
He was a survivor. He’d told her that, multiple times. And this was training, not a real life or death situation. “Fight for me, Rage,” she yelled.
He roared his reply and powered forward, driving Vector to the far side of the square. Fuck. Joan stared at him. Her cyborg was a force to be reckoned with. He—
Her stomach muscles twitched. She placed her hand over the spot. The sensation happened again, pushing against her palm. “Our offspring is kicking.”
Rage’s swords stopped in mid air. “Wait. What?” He turned his head toward her.
Had he been listening to her all this time? “I think our offspring kicked me, sir, but that’s nothing to worry about. Continue fighting.”
“Frag fighting.” He strode toward her, sheathing his weapons. “I concede.”
“There’s no conceding in battle,” Vector quoted him. His swords dangled from his fingertips, his confusion palpable.
“We’ll fight at a later time.” Rage exited the battle square. “My female is my first priority.” He said that with no hesitation. Joan beamed. She ranked above fighting, above her C Model cyborg’s pride. “Our offspring is kicking.” Rage bounded up the spectator seating. Cyborgs moved out of his path.
“Can I feel it?” Crash asked.
“Not now.” Rage scooped Joan into his arms and sat in her spot, setting her on his lap, the blood on his armor soaking through the flight suit Crash had found for her. “Did our offspring hurt you, little engineer?” He peered at her with a heart-touching concern. “I can tell him to stop.”
She doubted their offspring would listen. “He didn’t hurt me, sir.” She placed his big palm over the spot. As though sensing his father, their son kicked.
Rage’s mouth fell open, wonder reflecting in his eyes. “He’s strong.”
“Our offspring is strong,” Barrel yelled. The cyborgs hooted and hollered and jostled for position beside her, fighting over whom would be next to feel the offspring kick.
Joan brushed the blood-dampened hair away from Rage’s brilliant blue eyes and smiled. “He’s a survivor, sir, like his father.”
“Like his mother.” Rage leaned forward and skimmed his lips over hers, his kiss light and tender. “I love you, female.”
Epilogue
Half a solar cycle later, Joan was watching yet another battle. This time, their son, Choice, was the aggressor. He wanted to temporarily leave the warship with his Uncles Barrel, Green and Zip and was determined to wrangle permission for that adventure from his overprotective father.
The three cyborgs stood at the threshold to their chambers, grinning, as Choice followed the much-beleaguered Rage around the space.
“But I finished all my lessons, even that boring one on human history, and Uncle Crash said my mechanics upgrades are almost as concise as mom’s and I’ve been doing real good on using two swords at once.” Their son huffed and puffed, having to work twice as hard to keep up with his father’s longer stride. Despite that effort, he didn’t leave any gaps between his words.
“You’ve been doing really well,” Joan corrected, setting aside the chip she’d been working on.
“See?” Choice flung one of his hands in her direction. “Mom thinks I’ve been doing really well also. I won’t be able to see Windy, Dad, if I don’t go with them. Uncle Vector won’t allow her on the warship. And it’s only three planet rotations. That’s all.”
Rage glanced at her. Her big cyborg had been hyper-vigilant with their son’s safety, deeming even a family trip to the Homeland to be too large of a risk.
And she knew what he was thinking. They would be granting him three planet rotations of freedom now, but in another half a solar cycle, Choice would be a full-grown cyborg, wanting to walk his own path.
Denying him this treat wouldn’t stop that fate. “He can make up the time when he returns, sir.”
Rage’s black eyebrows lowered. “You want this, female?”
No, she didn’t. She wanted to clutch their son’s unmarked baby face against her bosom and never let him go, protecting him from the harsh world and all of the dangers within it. If Choice had been born more human than cyborg, she would have had eighteen or more solar cycles to spend with him.
But he was all cyborg, his countenance and build an adorable miniature of his father’s. Cyborgs had been designed to develop quickly, the Humanoid Alliance not wishing to wait to send them into battle or spend resources on raising them.
She had to accept him for who he was, as others accepted her, a human female in a cyborg stronghold. “He’ll have three capable cyborgs safeguarding him, sir.”
The cyborgs’ grins widened.
Choice scowled. “I don’t need safeguarding. I can take care of myself.”
Rage frowned at him. “Are you questioning your mother?”
Choice’s defiance instantly deflated. “No, sir.”
“Good.” Rage’s eyes flashed. “Because she’s the only reason you’re being allowed to leave the warship.”
“Woot!” Their son punched the air. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too.” Joan smiled.
“Uncles Barrel, Green and Zip will return you unharmed or their heads will no longer be attached to their frames.” Rage leveled a warning glance on the cyborgs in question. They swallowed hard, nodding their agreement. “Now, go, before my logic returns.”
“Give us our hugs first.” Joan held out her arms.
Choice glanced at his cyborg uncles. “But they’re watching and--
”
“Choice,” Rage rumbled.
“Okay. Okay.” He gave her a quick hug. “Thank you, Mom. You won’t regret this.”
She already did. Before she could respond, he danced away from her.
“Dad.” His hug for his father was even quicker.
Rage, however, had a cyborg’s reflexes. He managed to muss their son’s hair and murmur words she couldn’t hear into his ear.
Then Choice was gone, taking the three cyborgs with them, leaving Rage and her alone. The chambers seemed empty without his constant chatter.
“He will always be our son,” she said more for herself than for Rage.
Her big cyborg grunted his agreement and glowered at the door, as though he was willing Choice to return.
“What do you wish to do now, sir?” She gave Rage the control he needed.
He glanced at her, his expression ominous. “I want to kill some being.”
“Or you could do that other thing C Model cyborgs excel at.” Joan stripped off her flight suit, the cool air striking her heated flesh, and she sank to her knees. “Let me serve you, sir.”
His eyes gleamed. “For what purpose?”
He’d asked her that once before. “Because I love you more than life itself, sir, and serving you gives both of us pleasure,” she modified her previous answer. “It’s in my design to attend to your needs as it’s in your design to give me orders.”
Rage grasped the lapels of his flight suit and yanked, ripping the fabric. “I’ll use you hard, female.” He shredded the garment, leaving a trail of cloth as he approached her.
He was a brute. Joan’s pussy moistened. “I’m yours to use, sir.”
Rage stood before her, his booted feet braced apart, the rest of his body gloriously naked. “Wet me.” He gripped his cock, presenting himself to her. A dab of pre-cum glistened over his slit.
She leaned forward and licked him from base to tip, tasting metal and male, navigating shaft, scars, rim, cock head. He shuddered, her cyborg powerless against the force of her wiles.
He was hers. Joan smiled as she flicked her tongue over him, laving this intimate part of him. The nanocybotics within her had never faded, were now bubbling over his skin, caressing him with effervesce.
She might not be cyborg, but she was no longer one hundred percent human. He’d changed her as she’d changed him.
She sucked his ball into her mouth, rolling it with her tongue, and Rage rumbled, energy snapping in his eyes. He sank his fingers into her hair, his grip exciting her.
He inhaled deeply, his chest rising. “I smell your musk, female.”
Joan released him. “Am I fertile, sir?”
“Not fertile, not yet.” His theory—that she wouldn’t be fertile again until Choice was fully grown—might be valid. Animals on the agri lot experienced the same delay. “But you’re very desirable, female.”
His passion for her hadn’t dimmed. “Thank you, sir.” She nibbled along his shaft, teasing him with her lips and tongue.
“Vector objects to me calling you that—female.” Rage swirled his fingertips, massaging her scalp. “He says it’s demeaning.”
“It doesn’t bother me, sir.” She heard the love behind the word.
Rage’s lips flattened. “I would never treat you with disrespect.”
“I know, sir.”
He gazed down at her, his jaw moving as though he debated something with himself. “When I was in the breeding program, we were paired with a different female for each session. We didn’t have time for chatter, would both be reprimanded harshly if there were any delay in breeding. As we didn’t know their names, the males would call every partner female.”
He’d called other females by her endearment. That hurt her. Joan pushed her lips over his cock, trying to lose herself in the act.
“Another male was brought into the program,” Rage continued his story. “This male, Heart, had served in breeding programs at other locations. He told me that his view of the Homeland was a place where he called the same being female planet rotation after planet rotation. This female would be his and his alone.”
Rage’s gaze slid from hers. Joan sucked him gently, soothing his distress with her mouth, lips, tongue, as he glared at the far wall.
“After that planet rotation, I never called my partners female. It had become a special reference to me and I refused to cheapen it.”
She allowed him to slip from her lips. “You called me female, sir.”
“I did.” He cupped her chin. “Because, deep in my circuits, I knew you were and would always be mine.”
He’d loved her from the planet rotation they’d met. Joan blinked back tears. “Did Heart make it to his Homeland, sir?”
“Heart was the first to be paired with a human female.” Rage’s voice grew brusque. “They didn’t use the breeding drugs on her and he was a B Model, more primitive-looking than I was. She was terrified, screamed for mercy. Heart refused to breed with her and was decommissioned.”
His friend had been killed because he wouldn’t harm another being. She rested her cheek against Rage’s thigh. “I’m sorry, sir.” They’d both lost so many loved ones, seen too much violence.
Yet they had found each other amongst the turmoil.
“If you feel demeaned--”
“I don’t, sir.” She pressed a kiss to his tip. “I feel honored to be your female.”
Rage’s shoulders lowered. “Enough chatter.” He drew her to her feet, sliding her curves along his muscles, and she trembled with anticipation. “I vowed to use you hard.” He tossed her onto the sleeping support. She bounced, laughing softly. “On your hands and knees, female. I’ll take you like the savage model cyborg I am.”
“Yes, sir.” Joan eagerly obeyed, wiggling her ass in the air.
He pulled her to the edge of the sleeping support, positioning himself behind her. “Spread wider for me.” He nudged her thighs apart. “I want to see your pussy.”
She tilted her hips upward, allowing him to peruse all of her.
Rage gazed at her for three thrilling heartbeats. She looked over her shoulder and watched him watch her. His face was dark with lust, his eyes lit with desire.
He wanted her and that made her crave him even more.
“Your body was designed for mine.” Her big cyborg swept his hands over her head, shoulders, back, ass, thighs, rubbing her up and down, up and down, warming her skin, escalating her excitement. “You’re soft and ample, able to take me.”
“I can take all of you, sir,” Joan moaned, moving with him.
Rage brushed his fingertips against her inner thighs, stroking higher, higher. He touched her pussy lips and a tremor of pleasure rolled through her. He stroked her, teasing her with his fingers, preparing her for his cock.
When she thought she couldn’t take more, had opened her mouth to ask for release, he withdrew his hands. There was a moment of agonizing disconnection. Then his broad cock head prodded her entrance.
He aligned himself properly, gripping her hips, and thrust, burying himself ball deep. She cried out, arching. He shifted inside her, filling her as only her cyborg could.
Rage gave her one, two heartbeats of stillness, allowing both of them to regain their control and then pumped, his rhythm slow, steady, able to be matched.
She met this unspoken challenge, swaying backward into each slide forward, meeting him halfway. They were equals, perhaps not in physical strength, but in spirit, two survivors having found each other.
As he rutted into her, taking her faster and harder, Rage mouthed over her shoulders and spine, sprinkling kisses across her skin, nuzzling into her long curly hair.
The others saw a rough, tough, often angry, warrior. When they were alone, in their chambers, he revealed all of the tenderness, the love, the devotion, in his big cyborg heart. Only she was trusted with this side of him, with his vulnerability.
She’d protect him, would never allow another being to harm him. Joan told Rage this with he
r words and with her actions, pushing into him, smacking her ass against his hips, warmth and arousal rippling from the contact.
He grunted, Joan hearing his own vow in the sound. He’d do the same for her, would slay the darkness, would die if it meant she’d live.
Rage lowered over her, covering her back with his chest, caging her between his massive arms. This prison of muscle and male wasn’t created to keep her inside, to inhibit her movements. It existed to keep others out. This was their private Homeland, a place filled with desire and happiness.
He shook her body with his thrusts, his passion meshing with hers. Joan panted, her constant stream of words becoming jerky, incoherent.
“My name, female.” Rage sucked on the delicate skin below her ear. “Say my name.”
“Rage,” she complied, focusing on his name and his name alone, repeating it again and again. Her arms and legs trembled, threatening to give way under the weight of their desire. His cock swelled inside her.
Neither of them was ready for their encounter to end. Joan struggled to prolong it, her form stretched tight under his, sweat dripping down her forehead, wetting her hair. If she could, she’d stay like this forever, safe in his arms, buffered by his love.
That wasn’t possible. She whimpered. She couldn’t stave off her release for much longer. “Rage?”
“Let go, Joan.” He drove deep. “I have you.” He swiveled his hips, severing her grip on reality.
She fell down, down, down into the depths of ecstasy, calling his name as she descended. Rage wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her to him.
She clenched around his shaft, and he roared, pumped his hot seed into her pussy, pushing her off yet another ledge, increasing her bliss.
Joan thrashed under him, not wanting to break free yet unable to remain still. He restrained her easily, his face burrowed in her hair, his breath warming her neck.
Gradually she quieted, murmuring his name, the only word left in her bliss-blasted brain. Rage climbed onto the sleeping support and drew her to his heaving chest. “I love you, female.” He pressed a kiss to her moist forehead.