Testing Truth (Cyborg Space Exploration #6) - Cynthia Sax Page 0,33

you do improper very well.” Her voice grew husky.

Fraggin’ hole. He wanted her. His speed increased as they passed his chambers. The space had never been utilized by him. It existed merely to pacify her rule-wielding guardians.

He stayed by his female’s side as she slept, protecting her while she was in that enchantingly vulnerable state, breeding with her at the beginning and the end of those rest cycles. During the quiet, while she lay soft and still in his arms, he monitored the ship’s systems, kept in contact with Captain and his brethren on the Reckless.

And he refined his female’s plot to rescue her brother, finding solutions for the issues she presented to him. Planning wasn’t Truth’s strength. He normally rushed into situations, relying on his skills to succeed.

His female, however, was skilled in that area. She listened to Truth’s relays of similar past missions, modified those strategies to fit the situation they were facing.

He was grateful for her leadership, was acutely aware he’d be accompanied on his mission by four fragile humans. One of those was her, his precious female.

Truth gazed down at her. He would kill, would die, to protect her.

“Are you seeking to corrupt me, cyborg?” The gold around her irises glowed.

“I will corrupt you, beautiful, and you’ll enjoy it.” The doors to her chamber opened and he strode through them, his female cradled in his arms.

Her private quarters were even more luxurious than the rest of the vessel. His booted feet sank into the fabric-covered floor. The walls were bright blue, trimmed in gold.

The sleeping support was large enough for a D Model. “This looks like a good place for ravishment.” He tumbled his female onto the surface.

She bounced. Her laughter echoed around him, droplets of happiness suspended in the air, so poignant he could almost see them. The brilliance of her smile lit the chamber. Her musk filled his lungs.

He inhaled deeply, drawing that part of her into him. “The first step to a thorough corruption is to remove one’s garments.” He yanked off his body armor, kicked his boots across the space. Cool air swept over his heated skin.

“One approves of the usage of one.” She reached behind her, struggling to unfasten the coverings her kind called a gown.

Her garments required assistance to remove. “Allow me, my princess.” Truth eagerly volunteered for the role Marthe normally held.

He rolled her onto her stomach, patted her on the ass.

“Thank you for that help.” She shook her head and her smile widened.

“I’m helping.” He sat on the sleeping support beside her and slowly unfastened her gown, folding the fabric back, revealing her flawless brown skin. Lowering his head, he mouthed over that softness, savoring the smoothness of her form, the gentle curves, the utter femininity of her.

She quivered under his touch, clutched the surface of the sleeping support with her gloved hands. “I like how you help, cyborg.”

“I live to serve you, Princess.” He teased her, easing the flimsy fabric downward.

The dip along her spine, the small of her back, the shape of her ass, the length of her legs, were adored with his gaze, his hands, his tongue. He paid homage to her as he undressed her, honoring her as the royalty she was.

And when her gown was discarded, he became still for a moment, admiring her beauty.

The stones in his princess’ tiara sparkled amidst her upswept hair, their shine accentuating the gold strands interwoven with the dark brown tendrils. Gloves, the Royaume’s term for hand coverings, protected her delicate fingers. Dainty slippers clung to her little feet.

The rest of her was tantalizingly naked. “I delight in attending to you.” He bent over her, kissed the valley between her ass cheeks, marking that spot with his nanocybotics.

Her legs spread. The inside of her thighs glistened with wetness, that proof of her desire exciting him.

His princess wanted him as he wanted her.

“You’re kinky, cyborg.” She looked over her shoulder, meeting his gaze. Her gold-rimmed eyes shone with need, her passions escalating his.

“Kinky, corrupt, improper, you describe me in appealing ways, beautiful.” He slid his arms under her stomach, lifted her onto her hands and knees. “When I first saw you in that beverage outlet, swathed from head to toe in fabric, I wanted to undress you like this, kiss you all over.”

He pressed his lips against her lower back, claiming that terrain also.

Her breath hitched. “You knew I was a princess, wanted to take me, fuck me.”

“I knew you were my princess.” He dragged his mouth over