of those beings should be her.
She angled her form toward his, acting as though he was her confidant, not her killer. “I vow to you”—her tone was deceptively earnest—“if we’re both still alive when the next rest cycle comes, I’ll return to your chamber and you can end my lifespan yourself.”
Malice lifted his eyebrows. “Why would I trust you to do that?”
She pursed her lips.
There was a pause.
Then that lush flesh curved into a smile.
“Trust me. Don’t trust me.” She shrugged. “My fate remains the same. It is only your fate you’re fucking with.”
How could her fate remain the same if one of the possibilities was she would die?
He frowned at her. “Your brain is malfunctioning.” Her lies were contradicting each other.
“It likely is malfunctioning.” She threw back her head and laughed, the sound of her mirth echoing in the chamber.
There was a wildness about his normally reserved medic this shift, a daring, a boldness.
It called to him, excited his primitive C Model nature, pushed him to trust her, his enemy, with his cock, his fate, everything.
His response to her wasn’t logical.
His brain and processors must be malfunctioning also.
“I’ll give you another decision to make, cyborg.” The blasted female compounded his damage by spreading her thighs wider. Her pussy glistened with wetness. The scent of her bombarded his nostrils, stroked along his shaft. “The time for talking is over. Either kill me or fuck me.”
He should kill her. There was a 99.5214 percent probability she was setting him up for some sick new kind of torture.
But he needed her. Badly. His big form ached with yearning.
And she was right there, slick and willing and oh-so-soft.
Malice strode toward her, his soul gripped by purpose, his body shaking with anticipation. Before he put his hands around her neck and squeezed, he would take her one more time.
He would breed with her with everything he had, venting his frustration, his anger, on her slender curves, coming inside her until he had nothing left.
That would end his fascination with the human female.
“My choice is both.” His gaze locked with hers. “I will fuck you and kill you.”
He clasped her hips, holding her in place, positioned himself at her tight little entrance, and slammed into her, burying himself up to his base in her wet heat.
“Yes.” His little medic shrieked her approval.
Fraggin’ hole. She was a formidable and enthralling foe.
But he would defeat her.
Chapter Five
Malice fucked her two more times. Vigorously.
Illona embraced the passion, the sweet agony, the rare connection with another being, with the cyborg she’d wanted for the past solar cycle and a half.
And she waited for him to kill her.
After the fourth fuck, he withdrew from her, paced around the perimeter of the space. The male was gloriously naked and moving quickly, his muscles rippling as he strode. If she had the opportunity, she would watch him all planet rotation. He was magnificent.
Judging by his expression, she wouldn’t be granted that gift. Her warrior’s face was dark. His lips were flat, grimly set. His eyes blazed with energy.
Her cyborg was angry…again, his fury building with each orbit of the chamber. When that rage boiled over, he would likely end her lifespan.
She should care about that, should try to save herself, but she couldn’t summon that energy.
Her pain was gone. That wasn’t the cause of her apathy. Her nosebleeds had stopped. She suspected the nanocybotics he’d relayed to her during their fucks were responsible for her healing, for her recovery. They bubbled and fizzed inside her.
It was her weariness of the solitude, the emotional and physical isolation that wore away at her. Medic Febris, her friend, would soon be dead. Malice hated her. She was tired, so fuckin’ tired of battling the Humanoid Alliance and the evilness of the universe alone.
Dying now wasn’t ideal. She wanted to down the transmission blocker before her lifespan ended, give her cyborg and his friend a better chance of escaping. That was one more thing she could do, one more way to help others.
But the timing of her demise wasn’t in her control.
Malice, the male with that responsibility, skidded to a stop. She braced herself for the end, for her death.
Her cyborg didn’t advance toward her. He tilted his head to the side, stepped closer to the door.
“Two humans are approaching the chamber.” He rushed across the space, moving faster than her eyes could follow, scooped her white jacket off the floor. “Wear this.” He tossed the garment to her.
She caught it, held the fabric against her