Defying Death Page 5

  He stared at her. His female didn’t get it at all.

  “It’s fine.” She nodded, appearing pleased with herself. “I’ll figure it out.”

  He doubted she would.

  “Where are we going?” She leaned toward the main viewscreen, gazing out at the vast expanse of space. There was nothing to look at, except a handful of distant suns, scattered like shrapnel after a firefight. “Are there medic supplies wherever we’re going? Because I need, at the very minimum, a handheld.”

  He didn’t yet know their destination. Death had been focused on capturing his female. He hadn’t processed past that.

  “Once we meet up with your cyborg buddies—”

  “I don’t have cyborg buddies.” His brethren were now his enemies. They had to avoid cyborg-controlled space.

  And the Humanoid Alliance controlled space. He couldn’t risk being recaptured. The thought of Tifara in the Humanoid Alliance’s cruel clutches rolled his stomach.

  He had to avoid Tifara’s rebels also. She was a precious female. Death pulled her closer to him. They’d want her back.

  He set their destination as Carinae E, a random planet in a distant not-yet-claimed sector. Once they arrived there, he’d plot their next steps.

  Tifara chattered about supplies she needed, the types of viruses, the barrage of symptoms associated with each. Death listened, giving one-word answers when required.

  His female became more and more agitated, fidgeting, wiggling her lush ass against his aching groin.

  He waited. Her one-way conversation would swing around to what was bothering her eventually. Death suspected it was him.

  “You don’t talk much, do you, J052154?”

  He was right. It was him.

  He grunted.

  “I know you don’t chatter.” His female once again interpreted his reply correctly. “But it won’t hurt you to make an attempt.” She shook her head, as though not talking was a foreign concept to her, as though she’d never seen a being killed for an unprompted observation. “Tell me something, anything.”

  He thought about it for a moment.

  There was something he wanted to say. “My name is Death.” He yearned to hear his name on her lips.

  “Yes, yes, you’re a killer.” She rolled her big brown eyes. “I came to that realization when you tore the arms off my patient. I meant tell me something I didn’t already know.”

  She didn’t understand. “You call yourself Tifara,” he explained. “I call myself Death.”

  She blinked once, twice. “You’re serious. Your name is Death.”

  Death looked at her, his lips flat. He was always serious.

  “Why would you call yourself that?”

  He had succeeded to, once again, horrify his female. Death stifled a sigh. “Cyborgs give themselves names that have meaning for them. Death is all I’ve ever known. Before we freed ourselves, it was the only thing that had meaning for me.”

  His entire lifespan had consisted of killing and recuperating from the killing.

  But now he had more. Death touched his female’s brown hair, curling one strand around his right index finger. He had her.

  “Your job is your world.” Tifara’s head dipped. “My job is my world also. And that’s okay because that’s what we’re meant to do.” She paused. “Well, maybe not what you were meant to do. There’s no need for you to kill again.” She patted his arm. “We’ll find you a new, less bloody destiny. But stopping the next outbreak is mine. I know that in my bones.” She wiggled, teasing his armor-contained cock with her lush ass. “I’ve always known it.”

  The human’s belief in destiny and fate was illogical. Death said nothing, listening, learning; his medic was an intriguing mix of science and faith.

  Tifara was logic and emotion, constantly conflicting. She was like a cyborg that way. He gazed at his female, watching the emotions fly across her face, as quick and as varied as a skilled warrior’s attack.

  “When you stepped into the chambers, I knew this was it.” She glowed. “This was where I was intended to be.”

  “We were meant to meet.” He was her male. She was his female.

  “Yes.” She smiled at him. “We were meant to meet.”

  Joy blossomed inside his chest. He had felt that too.

  Chapter Four

  She’d been infected with a deadly virus by a cyborg who called himself Death. She didn’t know where they were going or if she’d have the supplies to uncover a cure. Yet she wasn’t concerned.

  Stopping this outbreak was her destiny. A part of her also trusted the cyborg.

  Physically, she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted any other male. Her pussy was wet. Her nipples were so taut; they hurt. Her mouth tingled.

  No. All of her tingled. His nanocybotics had spread over her form. She felt them in her fingers and her toes.

  That fascinated the medic in her. Her bruises had faded. She felt stronger. Her exhaustion had vanished. Why would the Humanoid Alliance develop a virus that made their enemies feel temporarily better, not worse?

  Death shifted under her. His body armor fit him like a second skin, hiding nothing, including his long, thick, hard cock.

  He wanted her.

  Cyborgs were half human, had both human-like brains and machine-like processors. They couldn’t reproduce naturally. Those experiments had failed. But it made sense that they would have human needs.

  In addition to the need for sex, he seemed to have a need to kill. That, she didn’t like. At all. Yet, she understood why he was the way he was. Killing was what he’d been designed for, what he’d been trained to do.

  Death is all I’ve ever known. That confession had tugged at her heart. She glanced at his grim face. Perhaps if she showed him there were other experiences to be enjoyed, he wouldn’t kill beings.

  And she had to examine him without his body armor. Any responsible medic would do that. He was the carrier of the virus. She should familiarize herself with his form. “I suppose you have to fly the ship.”

  “I’ve activated autopilot.” Death gazed at her, contemplation in his dark eyes. “We’ll be notified if another ship approaches us.” He removed his armor from his forearms, revealing tanned skin and defined muscle. “You can suck me off now.”

  “I didn’t agree to that.” But she wanted that.

  “That isn’t the message your body is communicating.” He curved his big hands under her ass and stood, lifting her onto the console. Other males struggled with her weight. The warrior didn’t even breathe heavily from the effort. “You’re wet for me, my female.”

  “From the pheromone-like aerosols you’re exuding, not from you.”

  “Other females were unaffected by my pheromone-like aerosols, as you call them.” He removed his body armor quickly, efficiently and her indignation vanished. Every part of him, from his broad shoulders, cascading abs, the vee at his hips, to his long legs, was finely honed, not a pinch of excess fat on his physique.

  His battle gear hadn’t been deceiving. His cock was long and thick, no hair at his base to distract a female, and he was fully erect, his shaft straight and hard.

  “Ummm…” Tifara swallowed, her throat dry. “Other females were unaffected?” Were their senses impaired? Even if they were somehow immune to his aerosols, Death was the perfect male specimen. “That’s impossible.”

  She hopped off the console, scientific curiosity trouncing her shyness. The heels of her boots clunked against the floor tiles. “You have a heart.” She drifted her fingers over his pecs. “I feel it beating against your frame.” She listened. “In triple time.”

  He shuddered. “Cyborg hearts are larger and have additional valves.” His muscles rippled, the movement drawing her gaze.

  “Why do you have veins as well as circuits?” She pressed her fingertips against his wrists. His pulse was strong. “It’s a duplication in systems, which would be clever, except the veins are exposed.”

  “Those veins are non-essential.”
He stood still, allowing her to examine him. “Key veins, organs, and circuits are protected by my frame.”

  Tifara circled him. His ass cheeks were clenched, his spine proudly straight, his biceps bulging. She traced his backbone. “This is a vulnerability.”

  “It’s protected by body armor and the metal utilized is the strongest available. It would take multiple blades to cut through it.” His voice was curt, his tone haughty. “And I’m not a frail human. If my spine is pierced, my nanocybotics will repair it.”

  “That’s impressive.” Her lips twitched as she faced him. She’d insulted her proud cyborg by implying he was vulnerable. “I’d like to take tissues and blood samples.”

  She’d take those from herself also, confirm that his nanocybotics had remained inside her, permanently changing her.

  Death grunted.

  Her attention returned to his sizable erection. “I might take other samples from you.” She darted her tongue over her bottom lip.

  “Those other samples are ready to be taken.” His eyes glittered.

  She traced his hipbones. “I should wear gloves, find a specimen container.” Taking the samples with her hands, with her mouth, would result in cross-contamination.

  He grasped her wrists, his grip achingly gentle. “Not this time.” He placed her hands on his shaft. “Pleasure me first. Poke and prod me later.”

  Her fingers instinctively curled around his girth, and a rumble rolled up her cyborg’s chest, his reaction reassuringly humanlike. He liked her touch and she liked touching him. His cock was soft skin over hard tissue, the contrast enthralling her.

  “You’re all organic here.” Her voice was husky. Slickness covered his shaft. “And you’re self-lubricating.” That was an efficient modification.

  Death said nothing.

  “I wonder what the lubrication is.” Deprived of her devices, she’d have to rely on more primitive means of discovery. She leaned closer and inhaled. “There’s a metallic scent.” She flicked her tongue over his skin.

  He groaned. His fingers folded into giant fists.

  “Yes, I taste minerals.” His essence fizzed and popped on her tongue. “And nanocybotics.”

  “They’re concentrated in my cum and my saliva.”

  His body must use traces of cum to slick his shaft. She stroked him, enjoying the length of him. He was a cleverly designed being. Even his cock head was broader than an average human male’s, better able to seal sperm in his female’s womb.

  Tifara ran her fingers over that part of him, circled his rim, followed the veins on his cock. What would he feel like inside her? She wiggled, her thighs brushing together, her pussy embarrassingly wet.

  “My female.” His voice reached down deep inside her.

  She was fully dressed. He was naked. Yet his eyes blazed with lust, with desire for her. He saw her not as a medic but as a female.

  It was a thrillingly unique experience. No other male had ever viewed her that way.

  Tifara pumped him, sliding her hands from his base to his tip.

  “I need to breed with you.” He rocked. “Either with your mouth or your pussy.”

  She hesitated. To take him inside her was a huge step.

  “I want that connection with you.” Death met her gaze, the yearning in his eyes tugging at her heart. “I don’t want to find release alone.”

  “Okay,” Tifara relented. “I’ll give you that connection.” She dropped to her knees before him. “But you’ll still find release alone. Sucking you off won’t make me come.”

  “Won’t it?”

  Tifara didn’t know. She was no longer certain about anything. She licked his tip. His nanocybotics bubbled inside her, multiplying, spreading.

  He smelled of metal and aroused male. His heat surrounded her. She laved the flat of her tongue over him, moaning with pleasure. The damn cyborg stimulated all of her senses.

  “I should be exhausted.” She nuzzled against his balls, inhaling his unique scent. “Yet I’m not.”

  “My nanocybotics give you strength.” Death threaded his fingers through her hair. His big hands trembled. “And you need me too much to wait.”

  “I’ve never needed any being this much.” It must be the virus but Tifara was past the point of caring. She pushed her lips over his cock head and gently sucked.

  His fingers twisted in her curls. “Need you. As much.” His chest heaved as though he was fighting a battle with himself. “My female. Mine.”

  Tifara tongued his slit, delving into him, seeking more of his delicious flavor. No two cyborgs had the same nanocybotics. That was as individual as a set of human fingerprints. Was their cum as distinctive?

  She couldn’t imagine any male tasting better than he did.

  “More. Give me more of your hot mouth.” He pulled on her hair, the pinpricks of pain arousing her. Her warrior was impatient.

  She shouldn’t find that as flattering as she did. Tifara sank down, down, down on him. His tip tapped the back of her throat. She covered his remaining shaft with her fingers.

  “Worth it.” Death gazed at her with a thrilling intensity. “This was so fraggin’ worth it.”

  Tifara didn’t know what he was referring to but she heard the wonder in his voice. She did that, inspired this tough male’s awe.

  He wasn’t thinking of killing now. She bobbed against him, inhaling his cock and releasing, inhaling and releasing, her cheeks indenting around his shaft.

  Death moved also, his expression strained, his lips set in a grim white line. She gazed up at him, captured by the concentration on his handsome face. All of his focus was on her, on this moment.

  They collided and drew apart, repeating this action again and again. Some of the tension in his face eased.

  That was unacceptable. She slapped his shaft with her tongue, striving to push him closer to the edge, to drive him insane with desire.

  His pace increased until he fucked her mouth wildly. His balls smacked her chin. She gripped his hips, holding on, his frame unrelenting under her palms, a reminder that this was no human she was sucking off. A cyborg was driving his cock between her lips.

  She ratcheted her suction higher and a low whine rose from his throat, like a ship ripping loose from its holding bay. His rhythm became unpredictable. He lunged forward, pulled himself back, varying his speed and angle.

  All signs of the cool, calculating machine had disappeared. He was gloriously organic, a creature of passion, of fierce emotion, more savage with his loving than any human she’d encountered.

  It drew a corresponding response from her. Her pussy throbbed. Her nipples ached. She tingled all over, her skin shimmering with sexual awareness, with wanting.

  It was too much. Tifara cupped his balls with one of her hands. She had to end it.

  Death thrust deep. She squeezed.

  He gritted his teeth, skin stretched over his cheekbones, and he pushed farther into her, coming silently. Hot cum splattered against her battered throat. She swallowed and swallowed.

  And screamed around his cock, her world imploding, collapsing like a dying star into itself. Pleasure, unlike any she’d ever known, ravished her, tearing her soul apart. Lights flashed in her brain. The bridge spun around her.

  She swallowed and screamed, swallowed and screamed. He poured endless amounts of himself into her and she took it all, every drop laced with bliss. Her body shook. Her pussy clenched around nothing.

  His nanocybotics rushed through her, a wave of energy, of possession, of change. She gazed up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. He was altering her very structure. She had no scientific proof to back up this claim, but she knew it was true.

  “Mine.” Death lowered to his knees and pulled her into his arms, pressing her face against his chest. His heart beat in triple time. “My female.” He petted her back, the heat of his palms felt through her layers of clothing.

  It could have been the flush of orgasm, she reasoned, gazing unseeingly at his square chin. The intensity of h
er release could have created the illusion he’d changed her.

  But she’d seen viruses work that quickly. With some outbreaks, patients died within five breaths of infection.

  She knew, in her heart, in her soul, that he had further infected her.

  Not that she felt like she’d die. Bliss shrouded her soul. She felt invigorated, euphoric, floating on a cloud of bliss.

  Tifara glanced at Death’s face. A hint of a smile curled his lips. His eyes gleamed, the brown depths lit with gold. He wasn’t worried either. He appeared almost happy.

  The nanocybotics within her didn’t fade.

  She continued to change and she suspected she’d never change back.

  Alarmed, Tifara lifted her head. “We can’t do this again.”

  “We will do this again.” Satisfaction softened his words. “Many times.”

  “No, we won’t.” She pushed on his shoulders, needing distance from him to think, to comprehend what had happened.

  He didn’t move.

  “I feel you inside me, Death, even more than I did when you kissed me.” Panic swelled inside her. “Your nanocybotics—”

  “Will replicate inside you, never dissipating.” He petted her, as though seeking to calm her with his touch. “They’ll repair your cells. You won’t show signs of aging.”

  “What?” Stunned, she rested her forehead on his left pec. “You’re telling me that I’ll live forever?”

  All of her friends, all of her family had already died. Her gaze drifted to the white scarf wrapped around the armrest of Death’s chair. It looked achingly similar to the one she’d given Safyre. But it couldn’t be because her friend was dead. Her patients, future and past, would die too.

  And she’d live an eternity alone.

  “You won’t die of natural causes.” Death’s grip on her curls tightened. “And, while there is life in my body, I’ll protect you from other threats.”

  “You’ll kill beings.” She would be forever linked to him, a killer. “You’re not a medic. How can you be certain I’ll live forever? Yes, your nanocybotics might repair my cells now but how do you know that five planet rotations, one solar cycle, or five solar cycles from now, they won’t turn on my cells and attack them?”