Indulgence (95 page)

It was the unapologetic taking of a female by her dominant male,
the assertion of his ownership. Rage branded her form with his cock, pounding
into her with a focus bordering on obsession. She was as crazed as he was,
pushed him to take her even harder, deeper, nipping his pecs, raking her nails
over his back.

Her desire spiraled out of control, spinning upward, upward,
upward, until fractures formed within her soul. She couldn’t hold on. She
couldn’t—

He snapped his hips forward, swiveled, and she shattered, a
million jagged pieces of shrapnel flying from her center. She screamed, bucking
against him, clenching her pussy around his shaft.

Rage roared her name, holding her to him, and came hard, his
cum propelling out of his tip with a shocking intensity, hitting her pussy
walls again and again. Each bombardment brought ecstasy, splitting her brain
into smaller fragments, pounding her thoughts into dust.

He thrust once, twice more, and shuddered, his cock pulsing
inside her. “Mine.” He stroked her back as she shook. “My female.”

Joan pressed her cheek against his heaving chest, her parts
gradually becoming whole once more. He was responsible for that, she knew. His
nanocybotics bubbled and popped, not only within her womb, but everywhere, in
her fingertips, her breasts, her brain.

“What just happened, sir?” She turned to him for answers,
her lack of control scaring her.

“Breeding.” Rage’s deep voice settled over her, soothing her
battered senses.

“Is it always like this?” That would explain her reaction
and ease that worry, but she didn’t like the thought of him having experienced
that unrestrained passion with other females. Not at all.

“It has never been like this.” He sighed, sounding as
troubled as she was. “But I’ve never had a female more than once.”

That could be an explanation.

Except she’d been attracted to him the moment she saw, no,
smelled him. “I’ve had males more than once and never felt like this.” With her
human lovers, the attraction hadn’t built. It had faded.

“No talk of other males,” Rage growled, his grip on her
tightening. “You’re mine now. You think and talk only about me.”

He was a domineering brute, her cyborg. “Yes, sir.” She
rubbed her cheek against his chest, wishing to appease him. “Your arm seems to
be working well.” She focused on the change she understood.

“You did a good job, female.” He kissed her forehead.

The rare praise made her glow. “Humans kiss on the lips,
sir.” He’d never covered her lips with his, not once. “It’s a sign of
affection.”

“I’m not human.” He pushed away from her, his cock slipping
from her pussy.

Joan shivered, feeling the absence of his warm body and the
coldness of his words. “You’re a cyborg.” She hugged her waist, seeking to
comfort herself. “And you plan to breed with me until it’s time to kill me.”

“I’m a C Model. Breeding and fighting is what we do.” He
grabbed a cleaning cloth and stared down at his cock. His skin glistened with
their combined juices, with the remnants of their breeding.

He didn’t clean himself. Instead, he tossed the cleaning
cloth to the floor.

He wanted to smell like her. Joan’s hurt instantly
dissipated. With her cyborg, his actions revealed more than his words. “You’re
Rage, the fiercest cyborg I’ve ever met, not a model type. You can do whatever
you wish, sir.”

He glowered at her.

She smiled demurely back at him. “You control your own
future. If you don’t wish to fight, then don’t fight.”

“I enjoy fighting. I’m good at it. And that ability of mine
is the only reason the Humanoid Alliance allows me to breathe.” He paused.
Lines appeared around his grimly set lips. “Is that why you’re here?” His anger
flowed to open suspicion and Joan stifled a sigh. He didn’t fully trust her.
Not yet. “Are you trying to incite me to rebel so your fellow humans have a
reason to dispose of me?”

She glanced down at the new slivers of scarred skin on his
wrists. “No, sir.” She suspected he was already planning to escape. “But if you
were to rebel, you should know that the Humanoid Alliance has equipped all
cyborgs with three tracking devices, not two.”

The flicker in his eyes confirmed her guess.

He planned to escape and when he did, she’d be assigned the
blame for losing the Humanoid Alliance’s top cyborg warrior. She’d be
reprimanded, sent to the front lines to die.

That didn’t bother Joan. She’d die eventually. She couldn’t
avoid the hallway attacks forever. And he’d be free. One of them would live.

“There are five tracking devices in every cyborg’s ship.”
She gave him more information. “There are two more deployments and then the
battle station is repositioning. Loss of cyborg ships is expected during
repositioning. They’re slow, weighted down with supplies, easy for the enemy to
attack. The Humanoid Alliance might not investigate if your ship didn’t
return.”

“Is this a trick?” His thick eyebrows lowered.

“If it was a trick, would I answer that question truthfully,
sir?” She held his gaze.

They stared at each other for several moments. She didn’t
attempt to disguise anything, not the truth, not the caring she felt for him.

“You’re a cunning, scheming female,” Rage said with a
mixture of pride and exasperation.

“I’m your cunning, scheming female, sir.” She jumped off the
horizontal support. Her bare feet smacked against the cool tiles. Her curves
jiggled, temporarily diverting her cyborg’s attention. “I’m here to serve you.”

“For what purpose?” He touched his arm, the same one she’d
modified.

“Because I want to serve you.” She strode to the wall panel.
Rage had filled her with more cum than a human male would ejaculate yet none of
it dripped down her thighs. All of it stayed inside her. “Because I feel safe
when I’m with you. Because I desire you more than I have ever desired any being
or anything and serving you gives both of us pleasure.” She opened the
compartment and gazed at the contents. “Perhaps it is in
my
design to
attend to your needs as it is in your design to give me orders.”

“I’m a C Model cyborg. I have a logical design.” He moved
closer, standing behind her. “You’re human. You don’t.”

That would always be the problem, the barrier between them.
Her shoulders slumped. She was human and he’d been hurt by her species too many
times. Joan didn’t know if they’d ever move past that. “Yes, sir.”

“End your chatter.” He waved his hands. “Bring me my body
armor.”

Serving you gives both of us pleasure.
Half a
deployment later, Rage couldn’t get his little female’s words out of his mind.
He slid on his back, shooting the Mantidae as he moved, their insect frames
exploding into a mess of green shell and red blood.

She felt safe around him. He turned, blasting a big male
behind him. He felt her relief when he returned, the tension easing from her
curves, the worry fading from her big brown eyes. Although she seldom spoke of
it, he was aware that the human males continued to stalk her.

They dared to hunt his female. Rage swerved. A projectile
skimmed his reinforced armor. He returned fire, taking out his anger and
frustration on the Mantidae.

The species continued to push forward, trying desperately to
complete their migration, to reach their breeding grounds. He understood how
they felt. He yearned to return to his female, to lose himself in her tight
pussy and wet mouth, to reassure himself that she was safe. Every moment he was
away put her at risk.

You plan to breed with me until it’s time to kill me.
Was that still true? He moved faster, the enhancements his little engineer had
made allowing him to defend his territory quicker. Could he take her life, dim
the spark in her eyes?

The last Mantidae warrior fell, permanently parted from his
own female, whoever she was, and Rage lumbered toward camp. Crash and Gap were
already there. He’d cleared their smaller plots of planet first.

“That was fast.” Crash waved a handheld over his nape,
pausing the recording mechanism. “Are the Mantidae growing weaker?”

“I’m stronger.” He flexed his arms.

“We’ll need that strength.” The E model cyborg returned to
his rebuild of the guidance system. “According to Zip, there’s only one more
deployment until the battle station repositions. He intercepted a bulletin.”

“My female relayed the same timing.” Rage sat on a boulder
and picked up a gun. Could the rest of her information be correct? He couldn’t
take the chance that it might be. “She also said there are three tracking
devices on each cyborg and five on each ship.”

“She’s a human,” Gap scoffed. “I searched the ship and there
were only four.”

“Search again,” Rage ordered.

“But--”

He leveled a hard glance on the young cyborg.

Gap blew out his breath. “I’ll search again.” He stomped up
the entry ramp.

“You told your female about our plans?” Crash didn’t gaze up
from the circuits. “You trust her that much?”

“I don’t trust her at all.” That didn’t feel like the truth.
“I told her nothing.”

“Then how did she know them?” His friend looked toward the
ship.

“She doesn’t.” Though she suspected. Rage had seen the
speculation in his clever female’s eyes. “It’s what she would do.” She was a
survivor, as he was.

“Should I look for a third tracking device?”

“We’ll wait until Gap completes his search.” He didn’t
relish being poked and prodded, not by Crash. While his female had a light
hand, spraying injured areas with pain inhibitors, his friend didn’t. He
doubted the cyborg knew pain inhibitors existed.

If Gap didn’t find a fifth tracking device on their ship,
there might not be a third device within them. There’d be no reason to search.

They worked in silence. Crash modified the guidance system,
ensuring their plotted course wouldn’t be reported back to the Humanoid
Alliance. Rage pieced together more weapons, the firepower needed during their
escape.

“You’re calmer since you’ve been paired with her.”

Rage grunted. He was fighting and breeding as he was
designed. What was there to be angry about?

“There’s no need to kill your female immediately.” Crash’s
voice was soft. “A human hostage might be useful.”

If she was his hostage, she could continue to serve him. The
thought appealed to him. Too much.

Rage slid his gaze to his friend’s downturned face. “She
can’t come with us. Humans aren’t welcome in the Homeland.”

“We’ll have to dispose of her before we arrive there.” Crash
dipped his head. “But until then, we could hold her prisoner.”

Rage said nothing.

“Having her on board would benefit all of us. I didn’t
relish being stuck in that small space.” He tilted his head toward the ship.
“With you for multiple planet rotations. When you’re not fighting the enemy,
you’re nasty.”

“Frag you.” Rage scowled, recognizing the truth in his
friend’s words. If he had to go planet rotations without fighting or breeding,
he’d hurt some being.

“That’s what I’m trying to prevent.” Crash flashed a grin.
“You need an outlet for your anger, my friend, and I prefer that not be me. If
you don’t take your female, that leaves the kid and you know how easily he
breaks.”

He
did
need an outlet for his anger but to take Joan
hostage? That was… He processed it some more. Not the most idiotic idea his
friend had ever had. Did it matter if she died in two planet rotations or ten?

It mattered to him. He wasn’t ready to kill her. Not yet.

She had to die. He couldn’t take her to the Homeland and she
already knew too much about cyborgs. She’d put future escapes in jeopardy, stop
his brethren from seizing their freedom. He wouldn’t allow that.

But she didn’t have to die until they reached the planet.

“Gap does break easily,” Rage conceded.

“I’ve found nothing yet.” The cyborg in question trudged
down the ramp. “I’ll search the outside, though that’s unlikely.” He closed the
ramp. “Take off would… fraggin’ hole.” He stared at the underside of the metal
surface. “Yes, make that five tracking devices.”

His female hadn’t lied about that. Rage was both pleased and
irritated, because that meant there might be a third tracking sensor on his
body. “You’ll have to search me, Crash, but not now.” He picked up his favorite
gun. “Turn the recording back on. I’ll clear the territories first.”

He’d vent some of his building anger on the Mantidae,
allowing him to better handle the pain.

*****

He didn’t kill enough of them. When Crash sliced him open
for the sixteenth time, finding nothing, Rage’s circuits threatened to
overload.

“I could have sworn I felt something in there.” His
soon-to-be-dead friend stuck what felt like a burning hot dagger in Rage’s
right ass cheek and pushed his inner mechanics around.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Ass.” He gritted his teeth, the agony
excruciating.

“I will. I will.” Crash removed the grippers.

His skin pulled together, healing. Not fast enough for
Rage’s liking. “Don’t we have any pain inhibitors?” he grumbled.

“Pain inhibitors.” Gap laughed. “That’s a good one.”

Rage narrowed his eyes at him.

The kid stopped laughing. “Oh, you were serious.” Furrows
formed on his forehead. “They make those?”

“Let me guess.” Crash prodded his lower back. “Your female
has been spraying pain inhibitors on your boo boos. You’re getting soft, my
friend.”

“I’m not getting soft.” He glowered. “I cleared all three of
our territories this deployment.” That was a first. Normally even he needed
help. “I’d like to see either of you do that.”

“How
did
you do it?” Gap leaned forward. He was
obsessed with upping his kill rate. “Do pain inhibitors make you stronger?”