Containing Malice, page 13
“Valor left his gun on the sleeping support.” His female, another target of those foes, waved at the weapon.
“He doesn’t need it.” As Malice didn’t need a gun to end Picton’s lifespan.
He relieved the guard of his weapons, keeping the reprimand stick, flinging the rest across the chamber. The male would never use them on his female again.
And he would never touch her again. Malice kept his form between his female and the guard, ensuring both of them were in his view at all times.
His little medic pushed herself onto her knees. “If he doesn’t need the gun, I—”
“Stay where you are.” He glared at her.
Her eyes widened. She stopped moving.
His fraggin’ female had recently been damaged. The image of her crumpled, bloody form flashed across Malice’s processors. His anger escalated. “You’re my captive now. That means you need my permission to go anywhere.”
She blinked once, twice, then smiled sweetly at him. “Do I have your permission to—”
“No.” He didn’t need to hear her request before denying it. She was impossible, and there was an 84.1287 percent probability it would result in additional damage to herself.
“Oh.” The delectable scent of her arousal grew stronger, the musk taunting him.
The blasted female was frying his circuits. “I should strap you to the sleeping support.”
“Cunt.” Picton dared to curse at Illona.
“What did you say?” Malice turned his head and glowered at the guard.
No one spoke unkindly about his female…except for him.
“Hurt. Her.” The male’s eyes gleamed.
“I’ll hurt you. Badly.” Malice smacked the reprimand stick against his left palm and studied his enemy. Crimson coated the flight suit over the male’s stomach. That was his strong female’s handiwork. Pride filled him. She was a fighter…as he was. “Where should I start?”
His female touched her arm.
“That’s right.” He nodded. “You started with my female’s arm.”
He put all his rage into the swing. Metal connected with cloth-covered skin. Bones crunched.
Picton screeched, clutching his arm. “You’ll soon be parts, machine.” His words slurred together. His lips weren’t yet fully functional. “The Humanoid Alliance—”
“Listen to the screams, human.” Malice flicked his ear. Valor was impressively increasing his kill rate, was happily relaying the footage of all those kills to him. “The Humanoid Alliance won’t be rescuing you. Not this time.” He slammed the reprimand stick against the male’s other arm, breaking it as thoroughly.
The guard shrieked. “She experimented on you.” The male changed tactics, trying to frame Illona as the enemy.
And thirty planet rotations ago, Malice might have viewed his female that way. But he now had additional inputs. She had experimented on him because she had to do that, because the Humanoid Alliance was watching her, because his clever, brave medic hadn’t yet uncovered a way to free him.
“That was part of my female’s role.” He processed that now. She was as much of a captive as he had been. “Damaging me wasn’t part of your role.”
The guard attempted to shuffle away from him.
“You damaged me for fun.” Malice slammed the reprimand stick against the male’s right knee.
Bones cracked. Picton cried out and fell to the floor.
“I’m now damaging you for fun.” He kicked the male in the stomach as the male had kicked Illona.
Blood flowed from the wound she’d inflicted. Picton doubled up, gasping loudly. He must have been too winded to scream.
Humans were extremely fragile.
Malice glanced at his female.
His blasted human was staring at his groin.
His cock bobbed, appreciating that attention. She smiled, her joy lighting up her entire face, and he swallowed a groan. His female would be the death of him. He processed that yet had no desire to resist her.
“You should restore your energy levels, female.” He issued that warning to her. “When I’m done with him—” He whacked Picton across the chest with his own tool of torture. “—I’m breeding with you. Hard. I’ll use you so thoroughly, you’ll feel me in your core for planet rotations.” He kicked the male again. “Every stretch of you will be covered with my nanocybotics. I will own you this shift and every shift after this.”
Her lush lips parted. “Yes, please.” Her scent thickened in the air.
He breathed deeply, taking that part of her inside him. His balls throbbed with wanting. “Female.” He growled at his tiny human.
“Finish him.” She met his gaze. “Then we can fuck.”
The strength in her countenance enthralled him. The fragrance of death and hot willing female appealed to his savage warrior soul. The command in her tone plucked at his cock.
“You’re a medic.” He scowled at her, aroused to the point of pain. “Medics repair beings. They don’t order their deaths.”
“I’m not a medic in this moment.” His clever female used words he’d told her planet rotations ago. “I’m yours, and I’m waiting for you to remind me of that fact.”
Frag. He wanted to do exactly that.
“You won’t be waiting long.” He hit Picton again and again, releasing his frustration on the human male. Blood sprayed. The guard screamed.
Illona reached upward, the movement lifting her small breasts. She slowly took down her hair. The long black tendrils fell around her face, a covering cloth of rippling softness he wanted to sink his fingers into.
Malice struck Picton harder.
His female would short out any cyborg’s circuits.
And he wasn’t merely any cyborg. He was hers.
She processed that. Blast her.
Malice pounded on their enemy with all his might.
Chapter Thirteen
Illona had never expected to open her eyes again.
Yet she had…due to her cyborg’s extreme efforts, his caring, his sheer force of will. Malice had saved her from certain death, had stopped the attack against her. If she had suffered one more blow, she doubted she would have survived. Her warrior had then healed her with a series of uncharacteristically gentle fucks, coaxing her back to life. Now he was extracting vengeance on her behalf, pulverizing Picton into a puddle of mush.
The guard was no longer conscious or alive or recognizable as a being. Malice continued beating him with the reprimand stick, striking the little that was left of the male again and again. The strength of her warrior’s anger was awe-inducing. The wounds he was inflicting should have appalled her medic heart.
It should have done that…if she hadn’t been forced, over the past solar cycle and a half, to hurt less-malevolent beings, to torture her cyborg and his friend.
And if Picton hadn’t reveled in the pain he’d delivered to those two beings. She could have killed the guard for that.
But she didn’t have to take that action. Malice was ending his lifespan, appeared to be enjoying the task.
His eyes blazed with energy. His muscles flexed under his gray skin. He slammed the reprimand stick down on the remains of the male, splattering blood and gore everywhere.
Someone screamed. The sound came from outside the chamber. Gunfire followed.
The alarms had stopped wailing a few moments ago. The irritating red lights no longer flashed.
She glanced at the gun placed on the sleeping support. “Valor might need help. There are quite a few guards.”
“There were quite a few guards.” Malice bashed the flattened flesh some more. “He doesn’t need help.” Her cyborg tossed the reprimand stick to the side and turned to face her. “And I didn’t give you permission to move.” He glared at her.
That expression would have been more intimidating if his cock hadn’t been hard. It jutted out from his hairless base, testament to his desire for her.
She must have been a mess when he found her. Yet that hadn’t dampened his need for her.
And it certainly hadn’t decreased her lust for him. Her pussy was dripping wet.
“You haven’t given me permission to move.” Her lips curled upward. “Which means I shouldn’t do this.” She spread her legs, giving him an unobstructed view of her wanting state.
Her cyborg’s brilliant blue gaze lowered. An exciting rumble originated from his chest.
“And I certainly shouldn’t do this.” She cupped her breasts, offering them to him. Her nipples were taut. Her teasing was deliberate.
She didn’t want more gentle fucks. Soft kisses and light caresses wouldn’t distract her from what she had done, from the horror around her, from their dark and uncertain future.
Pain was needed to stop her overactive brain from thinking about all that. Her big angry C Model could give her what she required. His dominance could smother her concerns.
If she pushed him to reveal his true nature, to set that part of himself free.
“My hands are too small. My grip is too meek.” She squeezed her curves. “I require a male with larger hands, with more strength to hold my breasts, to—”
“These breasts aren’t yours.” Her cyborg surged toward her, grabbed her waist, lifted her onto the edge of the sleeping support. “They are my breasts.” He claimed them with a breath-hitching intensity, covering her delicate skin with his rough palms. “And you don’t require a male.” He tightened his clasp on her curves and she moaned, savoring that sweet abuse. “You require me, only me.”
Stars. He made her hot. “I require only you.”
He moved forward, filling the space between her thighs. His shaft pressed against her wet pussy lips and they both shuddered, the contact decadent and right.
“If any other male touches you, I’ll kill him.” Her warrior reinforced his vow by capturing her lips, the impact of his kiss pushing her head backward.
She curved her fingers over his shoulders, holding on to her cyborg, and she granted him access to all of her. He thrust into her with his tongue, fucking her mouth. His nanocybotics fizzed and popped inside her. Her entire body tingled with anticipation, with wanting.
Her concerns about the past, present, future, evaporated. There was only him and the passion flaring between them. They were both alive, were together. That was enough in this moment.
He plucked at her nipples with his fingertips, twisting them, tormenting her sensitive flesh. Hurt meshed with the pleasure, causing it to be more vivid, more extreme. She murmured her approval into his mouth, rocked against him. He was long and thick and rigid, and she branded him with her pussy juices, with her scent.
She was his, as he repeatedly told her, but he was also hers. The big cyborg between her legs belonged to her. There was a connection between them, an unbreakable link forged from pain and bliss and something else she dared not name.
“Do you seek to tease me, female?” He glided his hands up her form, wrapped his fingers around her throat.
She gazed up at him. Her cyborg could snap her neck without much effort.
But he wouldn’t do that…because he owned her, and Malice would never destroy anything, anyone he had claimed. She knew that about her possessive warrior, trusted him not to end her lifespan.
“Teasing implies I won’t give you what you want.” Her voice was husky. “All of me is yours to take.” She gave herself to him freely. “I’m promising, not teasing.”
His eyes brightened, lit by the energy within him. “You’re a clever captive.” He moved his hands from her throat, buried his fingers in her hair. “I’ll take you up on that promise.”
He tugged on the strands. Pinpricks of hurt skittered over her scalp. Her chin lifted. Her pussy grew slick with wetness.
“You like it rough, Medic.” He dragged his teeth over her neck, and she trembled. “You were manufactured for a C Model.”
“I was manufactured for you.” She wanted him with everything she had. “Only you.”
“Only me.” He sucked on her skin. Hard. She’d be left with a bruise.
Her primitive warrior was marking her.
That turned her on. She hooked her legs around his waist, linked her ankles over his clenched ass. “Fill me with your big cock, Malice.” That was an open, unabashed plea. She was well past the point of shame, was consumed by her desire for him. “Claim your captive. Use me.”
“You are claimed.” He nipped her neck and she twitched, the pain delightful. “And you will soon process that.”
He drew back from her. His tip bumped against her pussy lips as he positioned himself at her entrance, preparing to take her, to own her, to give her the most extreme bliss she’d ever experienced.
Illona’s breath caught. Her form shimmied with expectation.
This was what she wanted, what she craved—a wild mind-numbingly erotic encounter with her savage cyborg.
He slammed into her, stuffing her with unrelenting cock. She shrieked, dug her fingernails into his shoulders, feeling him to her very center. They’d fucked numerous times, yet she would never become accustomed to this, to his invasion, his reshaping of her body.
“Fraggin’ hole.” His deep voice coiled around her, stroking her spine, her ass. “You are mine.”
He pulled back, slammed into her, pulled back, slammed into her, riding her fast and furiously, the same way he fought, the same way he did everything, holding nothing back.
All she could do was cling to him and enjoy the experience. She was human and his captive. He was a cyborg and in control, ravishing her at a head-spinning pace. The sleeping support rocked. Heat radiated over her chest, between her legs, in her pussy. She panted, struggling for breath.
He grunted yet showed no signs of strain. His brutish noises added to her titillation. She smacked her heels against his ass cheeks. He rewarded that treatment with a thrilling growl.
Mercy. He was a beast.
“More.” She raked her fingernails down his back.
He howled. His spine bowed. He paused for a heartbeat, then crashed into her with more vigor, the intensity of the joining testing her boundaries, nudging her closer to the edge of release.
She embraced the harshness of their fucking because, as he often told her, she was strong and she was his, was a match for a C Model cyborg, for him. Her hips hitched into each thrust. Sweat streamed between her breasts, wetting him, making his gray skin shine.
“Mine.” She licked one of his pecs, tasting her salt and his metallic flavor.
He shuddered. “Mine.” He drove into her. His cock head skimmed along her inner walls. His base smacked against her pussy lips.
Her arms and legs quivered. Her entire form throbbed with wanting. She took him as he took her, meeting him midway, advancing as he did. His label for her might currently be captive, but she was his equal. Her muscles strained. Her willpower became more and more frayed. She didn’t back down, didn’t capitulate.
“Mine.” His verbal claims became louder.
The sound bounced off the walls, hitting her from all angles. She was surrounded by him.
Communicating her own joy wasn’t possible. She couldn’t talk and fuck at the same time. That cyborg ability was beyond her capabilities. Instead, she licked him again, laving his skin with the flat of her tongue.
He jerked. Their bodies collided. Hard cyborg slapped against her clit.
“Mine.” She screamed. Pleasure bombarded her. It was exquisite and overwhelming, too much, too good. Oh fuck. She couldn’t hold back. Her inner walls closed around his shaft.
“Mine.” Malice tilted his head back and roared, thrusting deep, giving her all of him. Nanocybotic-infused cum shot from his tip, battered her intimate flesh.
The bliss escalated exponentially. She cried out, gripped his shoulders with her fingers and clenched his cock with her pussy, holding onto him, her unrelenting male.
He came again, setting off another wave of rapture. She squeezed his cock. The cycle repeated until she had coaxed every drop of cum from her warrior.
Their ecstasy rose and then slowly, slowly receded, leaving a glow in its wake, a warmth that reached her very soul. She reveled in it, floating, her mind devoid of everything else. All she knew was him, her, the connection between them.
“Frag.” Her cyborg folded his form around her, bundling her in smooth skin, hard muscle and even harder frame. She was engulfed in protective male. His arms were strapped around her. Her face was pressed against his heaving chest.
They stayed like that for many moments. He rested his chin on top of her head, held her tight. She relished the illusion of safety, of belonging, of caring.
The gunfire had stopped. As had the screaming.
There were only the sounds of his and her breaths, the triple beat of his heart under her left ear. It was peaceful, a bit too serene.
Was everyone else dead? Were they the only two beings left in the lab, on the planet?
Illona should remain silent, should savor this rare moment with her cyborg, but she had to know the answers to those questions. She tilted her head back. “Valor—”
Malice sighed against her skin. “The E Model is fully functional. The other beings in the structure can’t claim that same state.”
His friend must have killed all of the others. She lifted her eyebrows. “That’s impressive.”
Her possessive cyborg’s rumble conveyed his disapproval of her response, of her admiration.
“You would have killed the enemy faster.” She patted his chest, seeking to appease him. “Especially now. The injections have made you stronger.”
“I would have always killed them faster.” Her warrior cuffed her bare ass and she yelped, more surprised by the reprimand than hurt. “I’m a C Model. My kill rate has always been much higher than Valor’s has been.” He paused. “But I am stronger now. Your injections were successful at boosting my nanocybotics, my clever little medic.”
A smile lifted her lips. She had accomplished that at the very least.
“Are you free from Humanoid Alliance control now?” Had she also helped them achieve that feat?
