The Outlaw Cyborg (Cyborgs on Mars Book 5)

by Honey Phillips

  When she murmured impatiently and lifted her hips again, he finally abandoned her breasts and began kissing his way down her stomach. He felt her tense, saw her eyes fly open.

  “What… what are you doing?”

  “I’m going to taste you, love.”

  “But I was going to go down on you.” She sounded so shocked he couldn’t help but smile.

  “Later,” he promised. “Right now, I just want to explore this sweet little pussy.”

  A fresh wave of heat met his fingers, and he smiled again as he continued his journey. So she liked some of his words. He looked forward to finding out just which ones she liked the most, but for right now, heaven awaited. He paused for the briefest instant to admire the sight that met his eyes. She was as perfect here as she was elsewhere, her delicate folds flushed pink and glistening in the soft light of the habitat. He wanted to linger, but as soon as his hands stilled she began to tense.

  He could remedy that.

  She cried out as he took a long, satisfying lick, his tongue sweeping from her impossibly small entrance to the swollen pearl half-hidden at the top of her slit. Her taste exploded in his mouth, and he groaned with pleasure. Her hands clutched his head, but she was pulling him closer, not pushing him away, and he gave into enjoyment as he explored her tantalizing flesh. He probed at her small entrance, circled her quivering nub, licked and teased until she was writhing beneath him. Carefully pushing her legs further apart, he concentrated on her clit, stroking it relentlessly as he slowly inserted a finger into her tight little channel. He felt her flutter around him and curled his finger against her inner wall as he pressed down with his tongue.

  A startled cry escaped her lips as her body tightened, milking his finger in long pulsing waves that almost caused his own climax to erupt. He kept his mouth on her, prolonging the pleasure until her body softened. When he looked up, a soft smile curved her lips but her eyes were closed and as he watched, a single tear escaped.

  “Serena, what’s wrong?” he asked, horrified. He thought he had read her reactions correctly, but why was she crying? “Did I do something you didn’t like?”

  Her eyes opened, tears shimmering in the crystal blue. “No, John. You did everything right. I just…” Before his eyes, her face changed and he saw her distance herself from him. “I’m just tired. I think I’ll go to sleep now.”

  His chest ached but there was a part of him that understood her withdrawal. When you were hurt often enough, you learned to erect walls. She would have to learn that he wasn’t going to hurt her.

  “You should eat something first,” he said quietly.

  “In the morning.” She wiggled away and he let her go, no matter how much he wanted to protest. He politely turned his head as she started to dress, then he heard her sigh. “This is silly. I don’t really want to sleep in my clothes.”

  He reached over and handed her his discarded shirt. “Would you prefer this?”

  “I… Yes, thank you.”

  When he turned back, he wondered if she realized that she was even more delectable dressed in his clothing. The dark color set off her pale skin and the oversized shirt made her look even more delicate and desirable, but more than that, the sight of her wrapped in his shirt awakened a surge of possessive desire. My woman. Sternly suppressing his reaction, he handed her a thermal blanket, then shook his head as she started to move to the outer edge of the habitat.

  “Lie down here, next to the heater. I’ll take the outside. I won’t disturb you,” he added when she hesitated. “But the cold won’t bother me and it would bother you. As soon as you’re settled, I’ll turn off the light.”

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” Her face was still rigid, but the concern in her voice gave him hope.

  “When you do.”

  He could actually survive on very little but perhaps worrying about him would encourage her to eat. To his disappointment, she merely nodded and lay down with her back to him. With a muffled sigh, he dimmed the light then took his position against the outer wall. The habitat wasn’t quite large enough for him to stretch out fully, but he had been in far more uncomfortable positions—and with far less desirable company. His legs were cramped and his cock ached with frustrated desire, but he looked up at the stars though the clear ceiling of the habitat and smiled.

  Chapter Eleven

  Serena did her best to ignore John, but even though he wasn’t touching her, she could feel his warmth at her back, as steady and comforting as the heat from the small heater. What the hell was wrong with her? She had let their sexual encounter get completely out of hand, something that hadn’t happened to her in years.

  She was always in control. Always.

  But somehow his gentle, persistent touch had swept away her usual restraint, and she had let him lead their encounter. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it—she had enjoyed it far too much. Crying because he gave her an orgasm? It was completely unacceptable.

  Just endorphins, she tried to tell herself. And no wonder after such an upsetting day. But she didn’t believe her own argument.

  She tossed restlessly and immediately brushed up against John’s body. Part of her wanted to snuggle into him, and the other part wanted to run as far away as possible. Her body tensed and she heard him sigh.

  “Would you prefer I spent the night outside?”

  “It’s freezing out there.”

  “I’m a cyborg. I can handle it,” he said dryly.

  The Serena she had been that morning wouldn’t have hesitated to order him out of the habitat—but that Serena had been shaken by the events of the day.

  “No, I would rather you stayed,” she admitted.

  “Then let me make you more comfortable.” He pulled her against his side, tucking her head against his chest.

  For a moment, she froze, but he made no further moves. It really was more comfortable, and after a short debate with herself, she relaxed against him. He was looking up at the sky, and she tilted her head back to join him.

  “I’ve never seen so many stars.” The lights of New Arcadia always dimmed their glow.

  “We’ll see less every year as the atmosphere thickens. But I like knowing they’ll still be there.”

  Together they watched the stars until she fell asleep.

  That night, Serena didn’t dream, and when she woke, she found herself sprawled across John’s big body. His arms were wrapped around her, and she felt safe and warm in a way she had never experienced before. It made her want to snuggle closer, but it also made her feel vulnerable, especially with the memory of the night before still flashing through her head.

  She started to ease away from him, and his arms tightened for a fraction of a second before they released her. She looked up to find him watching her. How does a man have such impossibly long eyelashes? she wondered. He smiled at her, dark eyes warm with what looked like affection.

  When was the last time anyone had looked at her that way? Had anyone ever looked at her that way?

  “Good morning, Serena,” he said softly.

  She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, as embarrassed as if she had still been that innocent girl so long ago. Time to regain control. Giving him her composed Serena smile, she lifted herself free, ignoring both the hard strength of his body and the equally hard bar of his erection. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of restarting the previous night’s game—with her in control this time—but she wasn’t as confident as she would like to have been that she would remain in control. She settled for turning to the food supplies she had rejected the night before.

  “I think I’m hungry again this morning,” she said, keeping her voice cool and matter of fact.

  “Then you should eat.”

  Did he sound hurt? She snuck a peek over her shoulder, but he was staring thoughtfully up at the clear ceiling panel. A moment later, he rose and stretched, and she couldn’t have dragged her eyes away if her life depended on it. All that impressive muscle was clearly visible, the morning light
illuminating every fascinating dip and bulge, an overwhelming display in the small habitat.

  “I’ll check on Winston,” John said, apparently oblivious to her admiring gaze. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Don’t you need your shirt?”

  He flashed her that devastating grin. “No, it looks much better on you.”

  He was gone before she could think of an adequate retort. By the time he returned, she was once again fully dressed in her neutral coveralls, but his gaze was just as appreciative.

  “I’m not really familiar with cooking,” she said doubtfully. “I heated up some kind of broth and found some protein wafers.”

  “That’s fine. I’m not fussy.” He retrieved his shirt, and she watched regretfully as he pulled it over his head. What a shame the man has to wear clothes at all, she thought, then felt her cheeks start to heat again. Fuck. Somehow, she had to stop reacting like the girl she hadn’t been in so many years.

  “Do you think we’ll reach the lab today?” she asked coolly as she poured them each a cup of broth.

  He shook his head. That meant another night together in the small habitat. The prospect aroused a combination of both excitement and trepidation but she vowed that tonight she would be in control.

  “If we traveled faster today, we would only have a short journey tomorrow,” he added. “Are you up for that?”

  He gave her a teasing grin, and she automatically responded to the challenge. “Of course.”

  As soon as she emerged from the habitat, Winston came prancing over. He explored her hair, then butted his head against her chest until she stroked him. The fact that he seemed so pleased to see her eased something inside her, and by the time John had finished a remarkably speedy dismantling of their camp, she felt in control once more—or at least she did until he lifted her up on the horse and settled in behind her.

  The warmth of his body triggered more memories of the previous night.

  She had expected a lingering awkwardness but John was as matter-of-fact as always. If anything, he was too calm as he continued their idle conversation from the previous day. Hadn’t what had happened between them affected him at all?

  They did travel faster today but Winston had an easy rocking gait that was surprisingly comfortable. The increased speed also increased the amount of cool air rushing past her, and John frowned when he helped her down during their midday break.

  “Your skin is like ice.”

  She shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me. Maybe it’s appropriate—they do call me the Ice Queen.”

  The words were said lightly but they hung in the air between them as John’s big, warm hand came up to cup her face.

  “No, my love. You are most certainly not an Ice Queen.”

  He turned away before she could respond, but perhaps that was just as well. The warmth in his eyes threatened to destroy all of her defenses. Too distracted to talk, she focused on their minimal meal, and he made no attempt to start a conversation.

  After lifting her onto Winston’s back once more, he wrapped one of the thin silver thermal blankets around her. He still didn’t say anything but the warmth in his eyes hadn’t diminished. She decided that she had to regain control of the situation. She didn’t need that distracting softness and concern from him lowering her walls.

  Men could not be trusted—they were to be used, manipulated into helping her achieve her purpose.

  She put her plan into action as they rode, no longer sitting quietly in his arms. Instead, she took every opportunity to touch him, to tease him—although always lightly and casually. A hand running teasingly down his arm. Shifting her position so that she rocked against his ever-present erection. The soft brush of her breast when she twisted to one side to look at the scenery.

  By the time he decided to stop for the night, she suspected he was as frustrated and aroused as a man could be. She refused to admit that she was just as aroused.

  Once again, he left her on Winston’s back while he set up the habitat. This area was not quite as enclosed as the canyon from the previous night. They had been climbing for the latter part of the day, and from the open side of their encampment, she could look out over miles of open Martian landscape. The sun was sinking in streaks of red and amber, setting the rock and hills aglow in response. John’s tall rugged figure looked perfectly at home against the wilderness, like some mythic warrior.

  When he came to lift her off the horse, that unsettling warmth still glowed in his eyes and she wanted so much to believe in the promise, but she knew better.

  As he lifted her free, she leaned into him, letting her breasts rub against the hard muscles of his chest, and she heard him groan. Her nipples were diamond hard, but it was not from cold.

  “Take care of Winston and come join me,” she whispered, pressing against his body.

  “Serena…”

  But she didn’t wait to hear whatever he planned to say, slipping away with a last teasing brush against his cock.

  As soon as she entered the habitat, she slipped out of her coverall and panties and knelt by the heater. A throbbing pulse had started low in her stomach, but she ignored it.

  This was not about her. He would be putty in her hands.

  The airlock opened, and he stopped abruptly at the sight of her. She had deliberately posed herself so that he would see her immediately.

  “Serena—”

  “It’s my turn tonight,” she purred. “Take off your clothes. All of them.”

  She saw his cock jerk against his pants but he still hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  “Would you prefer that I remove them?” She tilted her head and gave him her best seductive smile, but he was watching her face far too closely for her liking. In order to distract him, she lifted her hands and cupped her breasts, offering them to him. “Or should I start without you?”

  He gave a muttered curse, and then his clothes went flying. Her gaze flew to his cock as he stepped towards her, and her mouth went dry. Long and thick and perfect, liquid already pearling on the tip. And huge, she realized as she reached for him, her hand trembling. Her fingers wouldn’t close around him.

  “You don’t have to do this, love,” he said gently, his hand covering hers.

  “I want to.” And she did, desperately, but she was no longer sure it was about establishing control. “Show me what you like.”

  He used her hand to stroke himself, harder and rougher than she would have done, but she felt him stiffen even more. He repeated the movement, still using her hand, and she leaned closer so she could swipe her tongue across the broad head. Oh yes. He tasted clean, salty, delicious.

  She wanted more and she grabbed the firm curve of his ass, pulling him closer until she could take the entire head in her mouth. He groaned and his fingers tangled in her hair. She did her best not to tense as she waited for him to pull her closer, to force more of his massive cock into her mouth. But he didn’t. Even the movement of his hand slowed and she looked up to find him watching her, his face tender.

  Emboldened, she took him deeper and felt him shudder. Oh, she liked that—but not because it made her feel powerful but because it made it obvious how much she pleased him. She stoked harder, faster, and his hand tightened convulsively over hers as she went deeper with each stroke.

  He hit the back of her throat and she almost panicked, but he was still watching her, and she remembered to breathe and swallowed around him. He groaned again and his hand tightened in her hair but it wasn’t painful, not at all, and she took him deeper still as he grew impossibly harder. His hips jerked forward once, twice, and then he was coming in long hot waves as he called out her name.

  His hand gentled in her hair, curving around to cup her cheek. Her eyes had been fixed on his face the entire time and now she saw him smile—not smug or triumphant but simply happy. She had started this game with the intention of establishing her control, but she had never experienced anything remotely similar, never felt so close to someone. What had she done?


  Horrified, she felt a tear slip down her cheek.

  Chapter Twelve

  Damn. How had she ended up in tears in his arms once again? John lifted Serena to her feet, then further up, cradling her against his chest before he sat down with her in his lap. She started to struggle free but every instinct told him that she didn’t need to be alone right now. He tucked her more closely against him.

  “Hush, love. It’s all right. You’re safe.”

  “S-Safe? I’m never safe.” Her voice broke, and the silent tears turned to outright sobs.

  Appalled at her reaction, he was about to release her when she turned and burrowed further into his chest, her arms clinging to him with desperate intensity. He rocked her gently, stroking the short silky strands of her hair, and let her cry.

  Even though each sob tore at him, he made no attempt to prevent her crying. How long has it been since she’s let loose like this? he wondered. He continued holding her until finally the tears disappeared into a few shuddering gasps. She leaned her head back against his arm and looked up at him. Her nose was red, her eyes swollen, but she was still every bit as beautiful to him. She studied him, her face completely vulnerable.

  “I don’t usually cry,” she said finally.

  “I believe you. It seemed as if you had a lot of tears stored up.”

  “Apparently.” Her attempt at a laugh sounded like another sob.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No,” she said immediately, then sighed. “But maybe I owe you an explanation.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, love.”

  “I think perhaps I do.” She looked away from him and he saw her fingers flexing. “I was in a relationship once, when I was very young. It ended… badly and taught me not to trust anyone. It was a valuable lesson.” For a moment, she sounded like her usual slightly sardonic self, but then she sighed again. “As I said, I was young. I was also destitute and without a future. But I had a brain and I had my looks, and I used them both. I did whatever it took.” Her chin rose defiantly. “Including sex.”