Indulgence (104 page)

His reply was a grunt.

What did that mean? Did he love her? Did he even understand
what love was?

Before they met, she doubted that her cyborg had known any
variation of affection. From his recounts, the breeding sessions had been brief
and cold. He was born in a laboratory, hadn’t grown up with a mother or a
father.

Yet he was being very careful with her now, tempering his
thrusts, bracing most of his weight. He’d returned to her, accepted her despite
the attack.

That gave Joan hope that some planet rotation, far into the
future, his affection for her might strengthen into love.

She undulated under him, caressing his form with her curves,
while Rage leisurely fucked her. She appreciated his tenderness. Her recovering
body and spirit were unable to take the vigorous poundings of the past.

Desire wrapped around them. She whispered endearments,
encouragement, praise as Rage’s rugged countenance grew more and more craggy.
His long black hair framed his skin, accentuating the blue of his eyes. Sweat
glistened, caught in the seams of his scars.

He wasn’t handsome, but he was striking, and hers, and she’d
serve him until the end of her lifespan.

“Rage.” She lifted into his thrusts, straining her aching
limbs, seeking to please him and satisfy herself, to push them closer to the
edge of pleasure. “Rage.”

His cock swelled inside her. “Yes, female. Tell the others
who has you, who will always have you.” He varied his angle, rubbing against
her clit with each drive forward.

She gasped, bliss radiating from her core, and she dug her
fingernails into his shoulders, called his name louder. Could the other cyborgs
hear them through the door, through the walls? Her pussy constricted around his
shaft. The heat between them escalated.

She panted, unable to maintain this frenzy for much longer,
unwilling to come without his permission. “Rage?”

“Joan.” He buried himself ball deep and swiveled his hips,
grinding against her.

She broke, screaming, frantically grasping him, her rock in
the storm of ecstasy. Her brain splintered. Her pussy clenched down on him.

He roared her name, pushing deeper. Warmth filled her,
followed by more currents of pure, undiluted rapture. It was too much, too—

Rage covered her lips and thrust his tongue into her mouth,
this additional influx of nanocybotics keeping her conscious while increasing
her joy. Flesh slid along flesh. She drank in the taste of him, male edged with
metal. His chest heaved against hers.

They kissed until her form became still and her arms dropped
to her sides. “That was worth living for.” She smiled sleepily up at him.
“Thank you for coming back for me, sir.”

“Thank you for surviving.” He brushed his nose against hers,
this playful gesture from her serious cyborg enchanting her. “I’ll take better
care of you going forward, Joan.”

“Hmmm…I like the sound of that.” She blinked, fighting
exhaustion, not wishing to waste a single moment with him.

“Sleep.” He nuzzled against her cheek.

“Will you be here when I wake?” Was this a fantastic dream?
She flattened her palms against his pecs, the triple beat of his cyborg heart
pulsing under her fingertips.

“I’ll be here, female, and I expect you to serve me then.”
The warmth in his eyes belied his brusque words. “We have tasks to complete
before we leave.”

Before we leave.
Joan’s smile stretched across her
face. He was including her in his plans. “Yes, sir.”

He wouldn’t leave her, would be there when she woke. Joan
closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take her.

Rage gazed down at the beautiful female kneeling in front of
him. He’d bred with her while she slept and his nanocybotics had faded the pink
lines crisscrossing her face, neck, shoulders, everywhere. Soon, there’d be no
reminders on her body of the ordeal she’d survived.

She hadn’t remembered the worst of it, had retained some of
her softness and all of her trust in him. He threaded his fingers through her
brown curls, gratitude warming his chest. She still looked at him with the
emotion she claimed was love.

He had no experience with love or affection between males
and females. He did know what he found with her was rare and he’d safeguard it,
protect her from the humans, from any hostile cyborgs, from the Homeland
council if that was needed.

“Dress,” he ordered.

Joan stood slowly, swaying slightly. “Should I help you with
your body armor first, sir?” Her brown eyes sparkled with gold flecks, her
eagerness to please him coiling around his heart, hugging his insides.

“Did I ask you to help me with my body armor first?” He
covered his concern with sternness. She remained weak, hadn’t fully recovered
from the attack.

Her full cheeks pinkened. “No, sir.” She hurried to a wall
panel.

He donned his armor, watching her, bemused, as her fingers
flitted from flight suit to flight suit. “You’re to wear the gray one.” She’d
look more like one of them. “And remove the patch.” Her allegiance no longer
belonged to the Humanoid Alliance.

“Yes, sir.” She tore the insignia from the garment, her
fingers shaking.

His humor faded. She should stay in their chambers and rest,
but his stubborn female wanted to see justice delivered. That earned his
begrudging admiration but also increased his concern.

Ensure there’s a safe viewing area.
Rage transmitted
to Crash.
He’ll try to harm her.

His female fastened her flight suit, covering her lush
curves, then slipped her feet into her sturdy black boots.

He won’t harm her. We’ve built a wall out of transparent
projectile proof material. Other cyborgs want to watch. Gap and I will stand by
her side while you dispatch him.

Rage preferred to be the cyborg protecting her. He couldn’t,
not in this case. She counted on him to punish Commander Lewis, had told him
not to deny his true nature.

He’d show her the worst of him.

“Come here.” His voice was gruff.

She rushed to his side, her chest rising and falling, her
generous breasts straining the confines of the flight suit. Rage brushed her
hair back and smoothed her lapels. She was a mess as usual, requiring his care.

She teetered on the flats of her feet, reached out, held
onto him for support. “I’m ready, sir.”

She wasn’t ready for anything. He scowled. “You’re an
obstinate female.” He swung her into his arms, enjoying how her curvaceous body
felt against his. “Touch the access panel.” He turned.

She obeyed him. The door slid open. He stepped with her into
the hallway and she inhaled sharply. There was a puddle of blood on the floor.
Crimson was smeared over the walls. The scent of violence hung heavily in the
air.

It was mixed with the pungent aroma of human waste. There’d
been explosions at the far side of the station, concentrated around the service
tunnels. Rage shifted his gaze to his female. He knew who had been responsible
for those.

His female gazed around them, her face white, her bottom lip
quivering.

It was a mistake to allow her to watch. “If this shocks
you--”

“It doesn’t, sir,” she assured him, placing her palms on his
armor-covered chest. “It worries me. It’s so close to our chambers and I thought
we were safe there.”

“We were and are.” Assured that it wasn’t the blood that
bothered Joan, Rage walked along the hallway, carrying her. “When you’re with
me, you’re safe.” When she wasn’t with him, he’d ensure she was protected. “The
blood didn’t come from a cyborg.” It was Boyd’s. Gap had made a mess when he
tortured and killed the guard.

Rage planned to make an even bigger mess when he tortured
the Commander. The human arranged the attack on Joan, sought to draw out her
suffering. He tightened his grip on her soft form. The Commander would pay for
his actions.

Cyborgs were stationed at doors along the hallways, equipped
with the severed hands of their former masters. As Rage approached, they sent
energy pulses along the flesh, temporarily reanimating them, authorizing the
access panels.

Need help with that beautiful cargo, Rage?

You missed most of the fun. Glad you could finally join
us.

If you don’t have room on your ship, I’d happily
transport your female.

He was surrounded by idiots. Rage ignored their quips.

His female, unaware of the internal conversations, greeted
the cyborgs, asking for their names, issuing compliments on some feature of
their design. The males stood straighter, their chests puffed out with pride,
their expressions verging on besotted.

Rage begrudgingly endured the flirting.

For many males, Joan was the first female they’d seen. She’d
already won them over with her attempt to free them, her survival of the
attack, and her devotion to him, their number one warrior. Meeting her increased
their admiration for her.

And Joan’s words were a coping mechanism, a way of dealing
with her lingering fear. Rage smelled the apprehension on her skin every time
they approached a male. The scent burned his nostrils and he had to curb the
urge to attack, to eliminate the possible threat. But once she talked with the
cyborg, her terror eased, allowing him to think clearer. She needed the
flirting. He’d tolerate it.

Rage strode toward the Commander’s chambers. Crash and Gap
waited by the door, the younger cyborg standing behind his larger, older
counterpart.

He frowned. “Why is Gap hiding? Are you planning to shoot me
again?”

“Again?” Joan wiggled in his arms. “Your friend shot you,
sir?”

“I shot him once.” Crash didn’t meet his gaze. “And the
setting was on stun. He was about to get himself and you killed.”

His female looked at him, her eyes wide. “You tried to
return to the battle station to rescue me.”

She was too cunning for Rage’s comfort. “I could have
succeeded.”

“You wouldn’t have. They would have blown up your ship
before you reached the docking bay.” Joan smiled at Crash. “Thank you for
stopping him.”

Crash’s lips curled upward.

Rage grunted. She was thanking his friend for shooting him.

“Is there a threat?” He turned toward the younger cyborg. He
wouldn’t place his female in danger again. “Why are you standing behind Crash?”

“I’m scaring your female, like I did earlier,” Gap mumbled.
“I smell her fear.”

“No, I’m scaring her.” Crash lowered his gaze. “It’s my
eyes.” He touched one of his eyebrows. “They frighten humans.”

Joan wiggled. “Your eyes are dark and soulful. When you find
the right female, she’ll want to fall into their depths and never find her way
out again.”

What kind of nonsense was his female spewing now?

Whatever it was, it was effective. Crash gazed at her with
an irritating look of wonder on his more human face.

Rage splayed his fingers over her curves, making his
ownership of her clear.

“But, of course I’m frightened of you.” She swallowed hard.
“Both of you are fierce warriors, much bigger and stronger than I am. I’d have
to be mentally deficient not to fear you. When I first met Rage, I was scared
of him also.”

Rage grunted, dipping his head. She
had
been scared,
not that it had stopped her from talking to him, touching him, caring for him.
He sniffed the air, smelling no attraction between his female and his friends.
She wouldn’t care for them, not the way she cared for him.

“Your fear didn’t stop you from becoming Rage’s female.” Gap
peeked around Crash’s shoulder.

“No, it didn’t.” Her smile lit the entire hallway. “And it
won’t stop your females from caring for you.”

Gap opened his mouth. Rage didn’t have the patience for more
chattering. “Is the Commander inside?”

“He’s chained. She’ll be safe.” Crash slapped two severed
hands against the access panel and the door opened.

A clear wall two beings high separated them from the rest of
the chambers. Cyborgs, different heights, different models, lined the
perimeter. Commander Lewis stood naked in the center, facing away from them.
One of his legs was chained to the floor. One of his hands was missing.

Joan quivered, her fear aggravating Rage.

“He won’t touch you.” He pressed his lips to her forehead,
trying to calm her.

“He’ll talk, sir, tell them what he, what the others did to
me.” The pain in her eyes pierced his heart. “Your friends will know and they
won’t look at me the same way.”

“Every being here knows what he did to you.” Rage wouldn’t
allow her to feel shame for another being’s actions. “They want to watch
because he did the same to them.”

She blinked once, twice. “Did he do the same to you, sir?”

“Yes.” He set her down, Gap positioned to her left, Crash to
her right. “But I wasn’t able to avoid the prolonger. None of us were.” He
summoned a smile he hoped was reassuring. “We’re not as cunning as you are,
female.”

The lines etched between her eyebrows flattened. “They don’t
think less of me?”

“They don’t.” He held her gaze. “They admire your strength,
as I do.”

“I love you, sir.”

Joan’s declaration echoed through the cyborgs’ private
transmission lines.

“Kneel.” That position would make her a smaller target.
“While I seek justice for you.”

“For every being, sir.”

Rage didn’t care about every being. He walked around the
wall, into the middle of the chambers.

Make him pay.

Kill him slowly.

Show him how primitive a cyborg can be.

Rage tuned out the flow of unnecessary advice. “You can have
a weapon to defend yourself.” He’d give the Commander that dignity, to die
fighting.

“C899321. I should have known they’d send you, our most
primitive machine, to kill me.” The Commander turned. Yellow rimmed his eyes.
He’d been given a prolonger. “Who’s controlling you? Is it the Mantidae? You’re
using their weapons.”