welfare of her subjects over a princess’ lifespan. Nancy knew that, accepted that. “We would have been declared traitors to the kingdom, would have been tortured and killed.”
His grip on her waist tightened. “You processed those risks and still rebelled.”
“You rebelled also.” She stiffened. He wasn’t the being to criticize her. “The Humanoid Alliance were attacking Royaumes…for fun.” Those beings had done everything they were asked to do, were innocent agri-lot tenders, families, children. “One…I had the means to warn them. The Humanoid Alliance Commanders would boast of their plans to…me.” They considered her to be a mere female, incapable of thought. “I had to warn my subjects.”
“The cyborgs, my brethren and I, took action also. We freed ourselves.” Truth nuzzled against her neck. His lips were firm and warm. They left a trail of effervescence across her skin, and she relaxed once more. “Now that we have escaped, those of us loyal to the cyborg council do nothing that might put our brethren in peril. But we do allow ourselves to find our own happiness.”
That wasn’t an option for her…permanently. It might be possible for the duration of their assignment. “I continue to serve Royaume.”
“I serve the cyborg council.” He sucked on the base of her neck and she inhaled sharply, the tug against her skin feeding her desires.
She fizzed everywhere his lips touched her, her body coming to life under his hands.
“I also serve you.” He nipped her and she gasped. “I serve your yearnings, your needs, your wants.”
No one had ever concerned themselves with that. She tilted her head, giving him more of her to ravish.
Her cyborg accepted her unspoken offer, sprinkling soft kisses over her neck, under her chin, along her jaw. The contact with another being, with him, was enthralling. She hadn’t realized how much she’d craved it.
Nancy shifted on his lap, straddling Truth. Her skirts bunched at her waist. “We’re not alone on the ship.” Claude, Valentin, or Marthe could enter the bridge at any time, seeking to verify she was being respected.
“No one is approaching.” Truth murmured that response against her right collarbone.
She threaded her fingers through his surprisingly soft hair, holding her to him. “You might not hear them.”
Valentin had taught her everything she knew about stealth and spying. The male could maneuver without making a sound.
“I’m a cyborg. I hear everything, Princess.” Truth gazed up at her. His eyes glimmered. “Do you want a full report? The three of them are in their chamber.” He didn’t wait for her response. “Claude is breeding with Valentin. Valentin is breeding with Marthe. Marthe is sucking on Claude’s fingers. She’s telling him she wished it were another part of him. Valentin is—”
“I’ve heard enough.” She viewed them as the parents she always wished to have, and it would take planet rotations to purge that image from her mind. “If anyone approaches, we stop.”
“And if no one approaches, we don’t stop.” The cyborg’s grin was absolutely wicked.
She struggled to understand how she’d believed the Humanoid Alliance lie for so long, thinking his kind were unemotional killing machines. Want and need radiated from Truth.
It called to her, fed her desire, shutting down thoughts of anything other than him and her. “We don’t stop.” She covered his smiling lips with hers, tasting his passion.
In this moment, she’d be selfish, free, consider only herself. His tongue skimmed over hers and she shuddered, feeling that light touch down to her slipper-clad toes. They explored, playing, caressing. A bubbling sensation spread over her. The connection between them strengthened.
Rightness settled upon her, the soul-deep conviction she was where she should be, where she belonged. She plucked at his body armor, seeking more of his skin.
Without breaking their kiss, he yanked the protective pieces off his form, jostling her as he worked. He stripped faster than her gaze could follow, his arms blurring.
Defined pecs, bulging biceps, abs appearing as though they had been ruthlessly carved from gray stone, were revealed. There wasn’t a pinch of excess flesh on him. Not one scar marred his form.
She flattened her hands against his chest. His muscles rippled under her palms. Her cyborg wanted her, wanted this as much as she did. The proof was in that response and in the hard, thick length of him pressing against her.
He lifted her skirt, removing the fabric between them, and pulled her closer to him. Her pussy lips smacked against his unrelenting flesh. Pleasure flowed over her and she moaned into his mouth, that sound decidedly un-princess-like. Truth