“I have to damage you to repair you.” Dread strangled his words. He couldn’t breed with her without causing her more agony. That tormented him. “It will hurt at first, but you’re strong and you can tolerate it.”
This had to be done. He firmed his resolve and slowly lowered her onto him.
Wet heat flowed along his shaft, his female surrounding him. He gritted his teeth, battling his urge to thrust, to drive deeper.
She whimpered. That distressing sound kept him focused. Her eyelashes fluttered.
The goal was to repair her. He wasn’t seeking pleasure.
But when her pussy lips touched his base and he allowed himself to find release, filling her with his nanocybotics-infused cum, he experienced bliss, his fulfillment mixed with guilt, with concern.
“Fraggin’ hole, female.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Come back to me. I can’t lose you.”
That would accomplish something his enemies had never managed to do—it would kill him.
He licked the blood off her face, adding the nanocybotics in his saliva to the repairing process. The metallic taste of her damage coated his tongue. New skin sealed her wounds. Her nose was being rebuilt.
“There will be nothing left of Picton’s nose when I’m done with him.” He eased in and out of his female. “I will beat it flat with that reprimand stick of his.”
He found release again, rapture sweeping over him as he filled her with his repairing essence.
“I’ll break every bone in his body.” Malice rocked into her once, twice, three times and came, rocked into her once, twice, three times and came.
As he bred with his female, he relayed all the things he would do to her enemy, the pain, the vengeance he would deliver on her behalf. He murmured those dark promises against her lips, sealing them with his breath.
And he tidied her because his little medic didn’t like messes. He licked every drop of dried blood from her brown skin, removed every speck of grime from her form, swept her hair back from her beautiful face, coiled it on top of her head.
Her broken bones straightened, disappearing once again under her skin. She breathed easier, no longer made that heart-tugging whimpering sound when he filled her.
“Picton will scream before I kill him.” He mouthed over her slender neck. “He will cry and plead and beg before I silence him…forever.”
Malice came so hard his visual and auditory systems threatened to shut down. He maintained full functionality based on willpower alone.
His female was defenseless. The enemy was near. He would protect her.
And he was rewarded for achieving that goal. His female opened her eyes, met his gaze.
Frag. He had never seen a more gorgeous sight than those big brown eyes, soft with pleasure, with not a hint of pain in their gold-specked depths.
The yearning to claim her fully, with everything he had, was tremendous. He ruthlessly suppressed that urge. She had been damaged, deserved his tenderness, his care.
He glided his lips over hers, a whisper-light touch expressing his relief, his gratitude, his adoration. Her breath hitched. Her eyes widened.
Their tongues twined. His claiming of her was cautious. He was a C Model. Slow and gentle wasn’t in his core programming. But for her, for his female, he would forge new routines, do the impossible.
She was precious, was deserving of his control.
Despite his leisurely seduction, he must have damaged his little medic. Lines appeared between her fine eyebrows. Her body stiffened.
She pulled back from him, met his gaze. “Are…you…hurt?” She slid trembling hands over his shoulders, his arms, as though she was searching for the answer to her question.
His female had been beaten to the point of death, and she was concerned about another being.
She was concerned about him.
Malice shook his head, unable to speak. A massive ball of an unidentifiable substance had formed in his throat.
“Oh, fuck.” Her face had completely repaired. The grooves on it deepened. “You’re not growling at me like you usually do. A child could break your grip on me. You kissed me like…a human would kiss me.” She grimaced, her expression relaying that wasn’t a good thing.
“No other being will kiss you.” The prospect of anyone touching his female turned his vision system red. It was an effort not to yell his response.
“What have they done to you?” His little medic turned her head, looked around them. “Was it Picton?” Anger sharpened her voice. “Because I’ll—”
“You’ll watch and do nothing else.” Malice pressed his right index finger over her lush lips, silencing her. “Picton is mine to kill, my warrior medic.”
She frowned against his finger. “He hurt—”
“He hurt you.” Rage revived inside him as he replayed Picton’s assault on his female.
He glanced at the male, not hiding his loathing of him.
One of Picton’s eyebrows twitched.
Don’t stun him again. Malice told Valor. He wanted the male able to express his pain when he tortured him on his female’s behalf. His gaze returned to her. “Are you repaired sufficiently?”
His female bent and straightened her arm, the one Picton had broken. She nodded. “I feel surprisingly good.”
“That’s good, because I feel unsurprisingly vengeful.” Malice lifted her off him and set her with care on the tiled floor. “We will breed again later, female.” Multiple times. “I must tear your enemy apart now.”
“That’s my cyborg.” Illona murmured that reply under her breath.
He was her cyborg, as she had designated him, and he had heard her. His little medic approved of his plans. Malice’s head raised. Determination fused with his anger.
He jumped to his feet, stepped forward.
Alarms wailed. Red lights flashed.
The explosive set near the door detonated, blowing a hole in the wall. That device had belonged to Valor. The Humanoid Alliance was targeting his friend as well as his female.
“They’re coming for us.” Illona’s clipped tones didn’t completely hide her concern. He heard the fear under her medic bravado.
“They won’t get you. Ever.” He looked at Valor.
The E Model was standing also. That was a notable feat after solar cycles of the warrior being confined to a sleeping support. A smile stretched across his face. “Do I kill them all?” His arms and legs were purely mechanical, but they appeared to be fully functional. “Or do I save some for you, C Model?”
“Can you kill them all?” Malice intentionally provoked his friend. “You’ve been inactive for—”
“Frag you.” Valor curled his fingers into fists. “I’m killing them all.”
He rushed through the hole in the wall, raced along the hallway, heading toward the approaching humans. Every step was transmitted and verbally documented. The glee in the E Model’s communications over being able to run, to use his arms, to see views outside his chamber, fueled Malice’s fury toward their enemy.
“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.