Defying Death (23 page)

“Inject yourselves first.” Death snapped the cloth,
refreshing it.

“Death—”

“They’re K models.” He told his female, brushing her
hair back.

“What is
that
supposed to mean?” Thrasher
drew himself up to his full height. “Our pain tolerance is higher
than yours, J model.”

Death shrugged and dabbed the cloth around Tifara’s
sparkling brown eyes.

“He’s deliberately provoking you, genius.” Ace
pushed his friend. “He knows there aren’t enough pain inhibitors
for all four of us.”

“There are because I don’t need any.”

The two warriors argued. Death carefully cleaned his
female’s face, removing his rival’s blood, the repellent scent of
another male. She was his. She should only smell like him. He
licked all of the skin he cleaned, marking her, covering her with
his nanocybotics, ensuring she was whole and healthy.

“I should be cleaning you also.” She examined him,
prodding one of the deeper wounds on his chest, and he gritted his
teeth, agony shooting across his torso. “You’re already healing.
Once we determine the long term impact of nanocybotic use on
humans, we could modify them, use them to heal others.”

Once
we
uncover… Death snapped the cleaning
cloth, renewing it. His little medic thought of them as a team. He
wrapped the cleaning cloth around strands of her hair, removing the
drying blood.

She chattered about theories and the experiments she
wanted to perform. Death listened, silently caring for her,
contentment shrouding his soul.

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on his
head and shoulders. His female was in his lap. He was free and
alive.

And loved.

He hugged that revelation close to his heart. There
was no more fortunate warrior in the universe than he was right
now.

The happiness wouldn’t last. He’d stolen his joy,
had taken these moments without gaining permission first, defying
the cyborg council, and he would pay for that crime but he didn’t
regret his actions.

She loved him.

Tifara’s hands danced in the air as she listed the
anomalies in her genes. A small smile curved her lips. Her gaze was
faraway, lost in the medical research she treasured.

His little medic wasn’t designed for the harsh
reality of a lifespan spent evading warriors, moving from planet to
planet, always being wary, forever being cognizant of their
surroundings.

She trusted too easily, cared too much.

And he would never want her to change.

Having cleaned all of her exposed skin, Death
unfastened her flight suit and slid his hands under the fabric.

Tifara trembled. “Death.” Her nipples tightened and
her musky scent intensified. “Not here.” Her face turned pink.

“You can suck my cock later, female,” he drawled.
“I’m cleaning you now.”

“I don’t want to suck your cock.” The glimmer in her
eyes belied her words. “And even if I did, you’re injured.”

“I’m not
that
injured.” All of his wounds had
closed. The pain had faded. And he was as hard as the rock they sat
on.

Death teased her with his fingers and with the
cleaning cloth, savoring her softness, her curves. He’d been a
selfish cyborg when he’d taken her from the battle station but
she’d changed him. Now, he acted only for her, processed only
her.

He was putting her at risk, separating her from
other beings, from her friend, from warriors who could protect her.
When the next battle occurred, and it
would
occur, she
wouldn’t listen to him. She’d fight by his side.

And she’d die.

Death couldn’t allow that to happen.

He knew what he had to do.

But first, he’d enjoy a couple more stolen moments
with her. Death cleaned Tifara as much as he could without
undressing her, then he swung her over his shoulder, biting back
the pain.

“Put me down.” She smacked his back. “Where are we
going?”

“To our ship. I have to breed with you.”

“What happened to later?”

“Later is now.” He couldn’t wait.

“But-but the pain inhibitors.” Tifara waved at the K
model cyborgs.

“I don’t want them.” They suppressed both pain and
pleasure. He wanted to feel everything. “You’re my female. Repair
me with the nanocybotics inside you.”

“They
are
bubbling on my tongue.” Intrigue
edged his little medic’s voice. “But you have nanocybotics also.
Why would giving you more speed the process?”

“The warriors with females claim it does.” Death
stomped up the ramp, his body humming with anticipation. If she
employed that talented tongue of hers, he wouldn’t last long. “They
repair faster.”

“And you tell me this now?” She smacked his
shoulder. “I could have healed you while you were cleaning me.
Hmmm…” She hummed, that sexy sound flowing down his chest and
curling around his balls. “I wonder…if I lick Thrasher, will I heal
him faster also?”

“No licking other males.” He entered the sleeping
chamber with her. “Your nanocybotics are mine. They only repair my
damage.”

“Because they’re unique to each cyborg.” She grabbed
a cleaning cloth as they passed the horizontal support. “Lie down
on the sleeping support. I need access to your big body.”

He’d give her all the access she wanted. Death
discarded what was left of his armor and reclined on the surface.
He then set her lush ass on his thighs. She murmured a thank you.
He quickly stripped her of her flight suit, revealing her endless
curves, pale skin, pink nipples.

One flick of the fabric removed the other warrior’s
scent. He tossed the garment to the side and concentrated on his
female, covering her with his hands, marking her body as his.

Tifara swept the cleaning cloth over his skin,
humming as she worked, that erotic sound teasing his already hard
cock. She’d fought for him today. She
loved
him. His little
medic bent over him, licking the gash on his cheek. Pain mixed with
pleasure. His grip on her hips tightened.

“It’s working.” She beamed at him and he blinked,
her beauty stunning him. “This wound.” She prodded the cut on his
other cheek. “Was as deep yet it is healing much slower.”

His female was experimenting on him. Death gazed up
at her, bemused by the sparkle in her eyes, the passion in her
face. Some of that passion was for him, as well as for medical
research. Her pussy juices bathed his thighs with scent. Her
nipples were taut, her breathing rapid.

He kneaded her ass, waiting with growing desire, as
she licked each wound, laving his chin, flicking her tongue over
his pecs, tracing the stripped skin on his arms. His muscles had
repaired. A thin layer of skin formed over the damage.

His medic tended to him with her renowned focus, all
of her attention on him. Not a scratch or bruise was left
untreated.

“You’re a wonder of genetic engineering.” Her eyes
glowed. “And you’re mine.”

The possessiveness in her voice thrilled him. “I’m
yours.”

“You’re mine to examine, to repair, to study.” She
skimmed the tip of her tongue over his abs, outlining each
cascading dip, downward. “To pleasure, to please, to love.”

Death stretched out his arms, reveling in her touch,
savoring this moment with her, knowing they might not have many
more. The cyborg warriors were coming for him and he’d surrender,
give up his lifespan without a fight, to ensure she remained safe,
protected.

“I look at your body and see a lifespan of research
before me.” Tifara wiggled down his form, her breasts jiggling.
“Questions requiring answers.” She searched for more torn skin to
repair. “Science I don’t yet know.”

He liked that he was a puzzle she hadn’t solved and
he wished his lifespan could be longer, that he could spend solar
cycles, not mere planet rotations with her.

She licked along his hipbones. Lines of
concentration creased her forehead. The lights above them lit the
fiery strands in her brown hair, hinting of passion amidst her
logic.

“You missed a spot.” He pushed his hips upward,
presenting his hard cock to her.

“I’m not sucking your cock.” Her eyes flashed. “You
don’t have any wounds there.”

“That you can see.” Death lifted her above him,
deciding to take her pussy instead, hoping to put their offspring
inside her, to leave her with another part of him.

Tifara muttered about the unlikelihood of hidden
damage. His little medic wasn’t taking any risks with him, however.
She positioned him at her entrance.

A grin crept across Death’s face. She wanted him as
much as he wanted her. He lowered his little human upon his
shaft.

Her wet heat engulfed him and his vision system
flickered, his processors nearly shorting out from bliss. He stared
up at her, making no attempt to hide his emotions.

Tifara looked downward, met his gaze, and her eyes
softened. “Oh, Death.” She leaned forward, her mouth a breath away
from his. “I feel the same way about you.”

He raised his head and glided his lips over hers,
tasting her smile, her wonder, her love. No words were necessary.
She rocked, the shallow motion massaging his cock, her breasts
drifting over his chest.

Death deepened their kiss, their tongues tumbling,
the flavor of her the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. She moaned
into his mouth and moved faster, the musk of her arousal heavy in
the air.

He flattened his palms on her back, lying under her,
allowing his female to lead their encounter. Her hair fell forward,
creating a veil around them, a sanctuary no enemy could penetrate.
The decadent curls caressed his face, back and forth, back and
forth.

Death’s lips stretched into a wide smile. Before
her, he didn’t trust in destiny, in fate, but he believed now. This
was a gift from the universe, this moment with his female. “You’re
beautiful.”

“The fight must have rattled your processors loose,
cyborg.” She grinned. “You’re smiling.”

“I’m now laughing.” He released the joy building
inside him. The sound filled the chamber, foreign even to his own
auditory system, yet it felt right, so fraggin’ right.

Tifara stared at him for a moment and then her
laughter joined his, musical and light compared to his deep
boom.

They held each other and laughed, fearlessly, with
everything they had. He rolled her onto her back and thrust into
that happiness, filling her giggling mouth with his tongue and her
hot pussy with his hard shaft. Their chests shook, her nipples
teasing his skin.

Their mirth faded, replaced by passion. Her
fingernails dug into his shoulders, the pain reminding him he was
alive, was with her, his female.

He ravished her curvaceous form, desperate with
wanting, with need. She wrapped her legs around his waist, hooked
her ankles over his ass, holding onto him. His lips, chest, hips,
hummed from the contact. A sheen of moisture covered her pale
skin.

“Love. You,” she panted. “Love. You.” She repeated
those words over and over and he captured them in both his
processors and his humanlike memory.

They’d be replayed, an endless loop of caring,
giving him strength and the ability to do what he must. He sucked
on her rounded chin.

“Yes, Death, yes.” She slapped her heels against his
clenched ass cheeks, urging him to take her faster, deeper, his
female wild in her ardor.

He gritted his teeth, plunged into her and pulled
himself back, plunged into her and pulled himself back. His balls
ached. An exquisite pressure formed at the base of his spine. She
was so soft, so giving.

Her inner walls closed around his shaft, increasing
her grip on him, the friction, the warmth, the joy inside him.
Death grunted, vocalizing his happiness, past words, past logic,
his processors shutting down.

Only the most primitive part of him remained, the
portion of him driven by passion. He no longer controlled his
emotions. They controlled him. And he didn’t try to fight it. Death
gave Tifara all of it, showed her his heart.

He loved her. It wasn’t rational but it was the
truth. He loved his little female. Death gazed down at her, that
realization in his eyes

Her breath hitched. “Death.” She clenched down on
him.

“Tifara.” Death howled her name and snapped his
hips, the last wall inside him crumbling. He poured his love into
her, filling her with heat, with cum, with himself.

She screamed, raking her fingernails over his skin,
writhing under him. He pinned her ass to the sleeping support,
pushing deeper inside her, wanting more of him to touch more of
her, and he came, again and again, setting off more mini explosions
within his female.

The pleasure became too much. “Frag.” He shuddered
and fell into her curves. She wrapped her arms and legs around him,
clasping his body to hers, her warmth soothing him, reassuring
him.

His female was with him, secure, protected. Death
nuzzled against her neck and she stroked his back, murmuring words
of comfort, of love.

That allowed him to do what had to be done next. He
opened his transmission lines. A barrage of chatter swept over him
and he jerked.

“Shhhh…” Tifara mouthed over his skin. “I have you,
cyborg. You’re safe.”

He wouldn’t be safe for much longer. Death tightened
his grip on his female, listening to the talk on the lines. The
cyborgs were coming for him and when they arrived, he’d surrender
and he’d die.

But before he faced that fate. Death flipped onto
his back, bringing Tifara with him. He’d breed with his human two,
three, perhaps four more times, adding those happy moments to his
databases.

Death grazed her forehead with his lips.

He was a fortunate warrior.

“What is it?”
Tifara frowned at her stubborn cyborg. She knew he wasn’t telling
her something. She felt the desperation in his touch. “We’re a
team. That means we communicate.”