Defying Death (17 page)

“Nymphia died but Safyre survived.” He bent over and
deactivated the sensors around their ship. Her cyborg was a walking
talking sensor. More weren’t needed.

“She couldn’t have survived. We’re best friends. She
would have contacted me.” Safyre wouldn’t have allowed her to
worry, to think she was dead. “I don’t know why I’m arguing about
this with you. You didn’t even know her.”

“I was with your Safyre on Tau Ceti, my female.”
Death carried her up the ramp. “She had your scarf wrapped around a
pillar inside her ship. Your scent was on it. That was how I knew
you were my female.”

“You mentioned the scarf. I thought she’d given it
to that Crash being and you got it from him.” Could Safyre be
alive? Tifara nibbled on her bottom lip.

“That Crash being is an E model cyborg and Safyre is
his female. She didn’t give the scarf to him. I took it from her
ship.”

“What?” Tifara gazed at Death. The story he was
relaying became more and more difficult to believe. “That’s not
possible. Safyre would never bind herself to any male, cyborg or
not.” Her friend valued her independence. “And she would have
contacted me if she was alive. She’d know I’d worry and—”

“Seven planet rotations before I captured you,
Safyre was alive and stood by Crash’s side.” Death entered the rest
chamber with her.

They rarely utilized the chamber. Her cyborg had
stated that he preferred to stay on the bridge, where he could
better monitor the main viewscreen. Now that they had landed, there
was nothing except a rocky wall to look at.

“If I say she was alive, she was alive.” Death’s
tone didn’t allow for argument. “I’m a cyborg. I can’t lie.”

“I know you can’t.” He was telling the truth. Safyre
had survived the Tau Cetian mission. Tifara’s elation was mixed
with pain. “I thought she was my friend.”

“She
is
your friend.” Death set her on the
sleeping support.

“A friend would have sent me a transmission to
inform me she was alive.”

“That transmission would have put all of the cyborgs
in danger.” He pushed her jacket off her shoulders. “The Humanoid
Alliance would have intercepted it and discovered cyborgs have free
will. They would have ordered their decommissioning. Millions of
cyborgs would have died. I know you wouldn’t have desired that.
Doesn’t your friend know you as well as I do?”

Tifara studied his handsome face. “No being knows me
as well as you do.” She removed the medical tape from his cheek,
revealing the model number inked across her cyborg’s cheek. “But
Safyre knows I wouldn’t wish any being to be killed.” She cupped
his jaw. “We’ve seen enough death, you and I.” She brushed her
fingers over his skin. “You deliver it. I try to delay it.”

“Then let me show you something else.” He unfastened
her boots and slipped them off her feet. “Something beautiful.
Something worth any sacrifice.”

And he had sacrificed for her, she realized. He’d
turned his back on his cyborg brethren, leaving his world
behind.

“Show me, cyborg.” She would think about Safyre and
the miracle of her friend being alive later.

Tifara lay back, allowing Death to undress her. He
drew her flight suit over her curves. His eyes darkened with
passion.

“First, I have to examine my female.” Death grasped
her ankles, encircling them easily with his big fingers, and he
spread her legs wide, exposing her naked pussy, her empty entrance.
“I must ensure she isn’t damaged.”

“You’re not a medic.” She reached her hands out to
the side, this playful version of her normally grim as fuck cyborg
enchanting her. “Are you qualified to examine me?”

“I’m a J model cyborg.” He lifted his head proudly.
“And I’ve observed the best medic I’ve ever met for several planet
rotations. I’m qualified.”

“Are you recording this?” That possibility tightened
her nipples.

“Yes.” He nodded, the lights illuminating his dark
hair. “We’ll study the footage later, look for abnormalities.”

They’d watch themselves fucking. Tifara’s pussy
dripped.

“I’m visually scanning the patient.” Her cyborg
perused her slowly, his all-seeing gaze pausing on her face, her
breasts, her hips, her pink folds. “The patient’s nipples are
taut.” His voice was robotic, lacking all emotion, and that excited
her even more. “Her pussy is plumped with an increased flow of
blood. The color has deepened. Her breathing has quickened and her
body temperature, especially around her genitalia, has
increased.”

He acted as though many medics were observing her,
gazing upon her naked body. Tifara fought the urge to move, to
wiggle her bare ass against the sleeping support.

“Checking breasts for fullness.” Death leaned over
her and cupped her curves with his big hands, shaping, molding and
massaging them.

She arched, pushing them into his palms, pleasure
radiating from the contact. His eyes blazed with emotion. His face
remained as serious and stoic as always.

“The patient’s breasts are heavy and full.” He
pinched her nipples and pulled, elongating them, and she whimpered,
the slight pain exciting her. “Her nipples have good color.”

He released them and she sighed, wanting more.

“Testing them for taste.” Her cyborg drew her right
nipple into his hot, wet mouth and sucked, the pressure exquisite.
He sucked and relented, sucked and relented, setting off a pulsing
throughout her body. Her fingers curled, digging into the sleeping
support. “The right nipple tastes fertile.”

He dragged his lips over her curves and applied his
mouth to the left. She rocked into his mouth, unable to remain
still.

“The left nipple tastes as fertile.” He
straightened. “The patient is responsive to oral stimulation of her
breasts.”

“Death—”

“Medic,” he corrected. “You will remain silent and
still during your examination.” He surveyed the assortment of
medical supplies she’d left on the nearby horizontal support. “Any
movement could affect the results.”

He snapped a large pair of hand coverings over his
fingers, the sound echoing in the small chamber. His eyes gleamed
as he positioned himself between her spread legs.

She didn’t know what he had planned and she was
helpless to stop him. He was her medic. Her body was his to poke
and prod.

Fuck. She gazed at him. That turned her on.

Death ran his right index finger over her pussy from
clit to ass and she trembled. His skin was covered with cool
material. It felt foreign, naughty, against her flesh.

“The patient’s body is thoroughly lubricated.” He
stroked her, only his eyes and the bulge in his body armor
reflecting his excitement. “The flesh is slick.”

She was more than slick. Her juices ran down her
thighs.

He breathed deeply, his nostrils flaring. “Her scent
is strong.”

Tifara tilted her hips, needing more.

“The patient is ready for penetration,” he droned.
“I’ll proceed to enter her pussy with one finger.” He slid his
index finger into her.

Her pussy lips clung to him. He pushed deeper and
deeper, past his knuckle, until his entire finger was inside
her.

“The patient is supple yet tight.” Death pressed his
fingertip against her inner walls. “She clearly has not been bred
with sufficiently, this planet rotation. I recommend that she
receive more breeding sessions in the future.”

Tifara’s lips twisted. The male was insatiable. He
had fucked her three times already and still wanted more.

He pumped her with his finger, coaxing more wetness
from her core, more desire from her already beleaguered soul. She
moved into his hand. His thumb brushed against her clit with every
advance.

Her world narrowed to his hand, her pussy. All her
focus was on him. All his focus was on her. Death didn’t ask for
her to suck his cock, that frequent request forgotten in the
moment. He sought only to please her.

“The patient requires additional stimulation.” His
machinelike voice filled the chamber. “Two fingers will be added,
for a total of three.”

Oh fuck. She braced herself.

Her cyborg probed her with three thick covering-clad
fingers, stretching her open. She hugged him, embracing him
intimately. He plunged into her and withdrew, plunged into her and
withdrew.

The friction heated her. The fullness escalated her
need.

Her panting joined the sucking sound of hard fingers
in wet pussy. A band of wanting strapped around her chest. She
fought to remain as still as possible, her legs spread, her arms
stretched to her side.

She was assailed by sensation. Death’s thumb teased
her clit. His smallest finger pushed against her asshole. He filled
her pussy again and again.

She yearned to wrap her legs around his waist and
pull him toward him, to physically ask for what she wanted—his cock
inside her. But he was the medic. He was in control.

Her pussy juices streamed over his hand, glistening
on his tanned skin. He was half machine. He could finger fuck her
for half a planet rotation and not tire.

She wouldn’t last that long. Tifara gritted her
teeth. Her body shook, pushed to the edge of fulfillment, dangling,
needing one push, one—

He drove his fingers into her and tapped her clit.
She screamed, bucking upward, clenching him with her inner muscles,
coming hard. The room brightened and dimmed, brightened and dimmed.
A rush of sound and ecstasy swept over her.

She writhed and twisted. He placed his free hand on
her stomach, not allowing her to roll off the sleeping support, to
escape him. His fingers curled within her and a hurting sound rose
from her throat, the bliss too much.

It was several moments before she quieted, her body
limp, her mind numb.

“The patient has experienced her first release of
the session.”

Her first release? She gazed up at her cursed male,
the thought of another orgasm filling her with both anticipation
and dread.

“I observed muscular contractions in her pelvic
region, increased vocalization and movement. Her body temperature
is elevated.” Death removed his fingers from her pussy and gazed at
them, her wetness humiliatingly apparent. “Her pussy is excessively
damp.”

He wrapped his lips around his fingers and sucked.
Her face heated. He was sampling her pussy juices and judging by
the euphoria reflecting in his eyes, he liked what he tasted.

“The patient is fertile and ready for breeding,” he
concluded.

She
was
ready for breeding. A moment ago, she
had been exhausted from coming hard. Now, she wanted him, needed
him.

It was the virus he’d infected her with, a virus
that only affected her. None of the other females had reacted to
him, had craved his touch as she did.

She was genetically unique, the sole survivor of the
outbreak on her home planet.

The sole victim of her cyborg’s chemical weapon.

If this was how she was to die, fucked to death by a
hunky, horny warrior, she had no objections. She’d volunteer for
such an end.

Death discarded his body armor, the pieces plunking
against the tiled floor. He was a male without parallel, his golden
skin unblemished, not a scar or bruise marring the surface, his
muscles firm and defined, his cock long and hard, a bead of pre-cum
already formed on the tip.

“I will reposition the patient for smoother entry.”
He pulled on her hips, placing her ass at the edge of the sleeping
support, her legs dangling, her feet not reaching the floor. “The
patient is ready for mounting.”

He lifted one eyebrow in question. Her cyborg was
silently asking for her permission, something a medic wouldn’t do
but a caring male would.

Tifara nodded, the play titillating her.

“I am mounting the patient.” Death pushed his thick
cock inside her. She’d taken him multiple times a planet rotation
for many planet rotations yet she suspected she’d never become
accustomed to how he filled her. He glided his shaft slowly into
her, his broad tip pressing against her inner walls.

She clutched the surface of the sleeping support as
he pushed deeper and deeper, seating himself completely in her
pussy. His eyes blazed with triumph, with need, with something she
dared not name. The connection between them tightened.

“The patient has taken my cock completely.” The
muscles over his lower abdomen rippled. His grip on her hips was
tight. “I will test her with a few tentative thrusts.”

He pulled out halfway and drove back into her,
repeated this four, five, six times. She lifted her hips, silently
asking for more. Her toes curled. Her legs twitched. She wanted to
touch more than his cock.

Death leaned farther and farther over her, his tempo
increasing, his body heat and metallic scent surrounding her. “The
patient—the patient.”

She smiled. He was a cyborg, had processors as well
as a brain, yet he couldn’t maintain the illusion. He couldn’t
pretend she was some random being, one patient of many.

“I’m your female.” She gave him permission to stop
the act. “And you are my male.” Their connection might be based in
genetics but it had developed into more than that. It was real,
strong. “Breed with me.”

“Yes.” Death rutted into her harder. “My female. My
everything.”

Tifara wrapped her legs around him, grasped his
forearms, and fucked him as vigorously as he fucked her, losing
herself in her cyborg, in his strength, his desire.

He dipped his head, flattened her breasts with his
chest, covered her lips with his. As he plunged his cock into her
pussy, he pushed his tongue into her mouth. His nanocybotics
bubbled and popped. The taste of her mingled with the taste of
him.

Their bodies collided and parted. Sweat trickled
between her ass cheeks, her back sticking to the sleeping support.
She marked his bulging biceps with her fingernails, these temporary
brands of ownership disappearing within a heartbeat.