Cyborg Nation by Kaitlyn O'Connor (e novels to read TXT) 📕

She lifted her leaden eyelids to peer at him as Gideon lifted his head to study her face. “Why do you hate me so much?” she whispered plaintively.

Something flickered in his eyes. “Do I touch you as if I hate you?”

He withheld as if he hated her, she thought in dismay as he dropped his head to drag open mouthed kisses along the column of her throat as if to demonstrate how he didn’t hate her when she knew better, knew he’d set out for some reason unknown to her to make her life a living hell. “Your … programming,” she gasped hesitantly, still unwilling to anger him enough to pull away. “You said....”

He paused, lifted his head again. “I said I knew how and where to touch you to give you more pleasure than you could imagine,” he said, his voice rough.

She swallowed uncomfortably, the sound loud in her ears. “Yes.”

In the dim, omni-directional lighting of the room, she saw his brows draw together, a flicker of anger in his eyes … and something else. Pain? He tensed as if debating whether to draw away or not and she felt her belly tighten in disappointment.

Instead, he seemed to decide to punish her for pointing out his origins as a pleasure bot. His touch became more pointed, more demanding, lifting her from the plateau where she’d hovered when he’d allowed himself to be distracted and forcing her up the slippery slope that she knew was going to lead to painful disappointment because he wasn’t going to let her crest it and fall into the pool of ultimate bliss on the other side.

She couldn’t find it within herself to care for the moment. His lips felt wonderful as they crawled along the sensitive skin of her throat and the side of her neck, the light touch and faint movement enough to send waves of scouring heat through her. He sucked her earlobe when he reached her ear as he had her nipples, stirring more currents and then sent a headier jolt through her as he covered her ear with his mouth and sucked at it lightly before tracing the swirls. Shivers chased up and down her body, colliding in a delightful explosion in her belly that made her suck in a sharp breath.

Lifting his mouth from her ear, he covered her lips, thrusting his tongue past the delicate, yielding barrier and raking it over hers. The friction of his tongue rubbing against hers alone would’ve been enough in and of itself to enrapture and enthrall, but the burst of his taste inside her mouth, the infinite appeal of his scent overwhelmed her senses, intoxicated her. And each stroke of his tongue over hers, each inhalation of his scent was like another shot of his potent elixir--sweet, drugging, innervating. She shook with the force of the currents flooding her in hard waves, shifted restlessly, not only because she couldn’t be still, but because she needed to feel the brush his skin against her and couldn’t prevent the search for a touch.

The faintest of brushes would have been enough to feed the need, but he held her and at the same time held himself aloof, pinioning her legs with the weight of one thigh, her upper body with the weight of his arms across hers. It was torture, exquisite, exciting, but still torture. It wasn’t enough to feel his mouth on hers. It wasn’t enough to taste him, to feel his essence flowing into her like a river of lava. She wanted more, needed more. She had to feel him all over, feel his taut body pressing into hers, feel the abrasion of his heated flesh brushing hers.

Briefly, he deprived her of even the one point of intimate contact as he lifted his lips from hers. A faint sound of disappointment escaped her, became a moan that was equal parts pleasure and dread as she felt his lips nibbling a trail of fire down her throat and realized his goal. She tensed, waiting, hopeful, dreading almost as much as she anticipated the touch she knew was coming.

His lips closed around one pulsing nipple, sending an electrifying charge through her that seemed to fry nerve endings as it moved through her. She uttered a choked gasp in spite of all she could do. “Gideon! Please!” she gasped, a mournful note of desperation in her voice.

He seemed deaf to her entreaty, and yet he tugged harder, danced his tongue over and around the nearly painfully engorged bud with more purpose and far more devastating effect. She fought for breath, sucking tiny snatches of air into her constricted lungs as her body reached a surfeit of what it could take and yet could go no further, bound to the earthly plain by her body’s need to feel him inside of her and a stubborn refusal to give her release without it. Mindlessly, she begged for it, pleaded—thought she did. She found that she was only murmuring ‘please’ like a litany, over and over.

He stopped, lifting his head to study her and she felt like crying. “Give me what I want,” he said hoarsely.

She didn’t have to consider it. “Yes,” she gasped desperately. “Don’t stop!”

He shifted, sucked only the tip of her other breast into his mouth, flicked his tongue over it. “You will contract?”

“Contract?” she asked vaguely, even though what she really wanted to do was tell him to act now, talk about it later.

He dipped his head to toy with her nipple again, just enough to have her gasping for air. “Co-habitation. You will contract with us?”

Her mind was so awash with need she couldn’t think. Co-habitation? Us? There was something that didn’t seem to fit. He was waiting, though. He wasn’t going to give her what she wanted without an answer. She lifted her head with an effort to look down at him, thoroughly confused. “Us?”

Gideon studied her face carefully, struggling to decipher her expression when his mind