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

and body were on fire with need and working against any ability to reason at all. The doubt in her voice alone was enough to give him pause, however. She was wavering, he thought dimly, within his grasp. Fuck the comrades in arms shit, he decided. “Me.”

She nodded, but he could see she hardly knew where she was, that he’d pushed her well beyond any ability to fully grasp what he was demanding. “Say it.”

She groaned, arching her back to lift her breast to him. He gave her what she was demanding, more because he couldn’t resist than because he thought he needed to push her more. By the time he lifted his head again, he had to struggle to focus on his objective. “Say it, Bronte.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Please?”

A shudder went through him. Grasping her clothes, he peeled the uniform off of her with hands that shook so badly they fumbled clumsily, his mind completely unable to grapple with the mechanics of removing the damned thing. He ended up tearing it off of her when he hit a snag and couldn’t figure out how to untangle it. Grasping her thighs, he shoved them upward, bending her knees, and then pushing them wide enough he could wedge his hips between them with more haste than finesse. She was so wet for him when he reached between them to fumble with the mechanics of fitting their bodies together a red haze of insanity closed over him, compounded by the discovery that even when he’d managed to align his cock with her opening her body resisted his efforts to claim her immediately. His mind ceased to function at all then. Gritting his teeth against the near painful pleasure of feeling her heat and wetness engulfing him, he dug his toes into the mattress and heaved upward, thrusting frantically. Sweat beaded his flesh as he struggled, partly from the fire burning him up, partly from the exertion, and partly from the sudden fear that he wasn’t going to get all the way inside of her before he spilled his seed.

His teeth gritted determination and the moisture of her body finally combined to allow him to attain his objective even though it felt as if her body was clutching his cock so tightly it threatened to peel the skin off him. He had to stop to catch his breath when he’d sheathed himself completely inside of her. Impatient, she rocked her hips against his, demanding that he move. Tremors ripped through him with the effort to remain still, to keep from coming, to try to remember what it was he needed first. Unable to grasp the elusive thought, but certain it was vitally important to him, he pushed himself up on his elbows so that he could study her face, hoping it would come to him before he lost his tenuous grasp on his control.

“Say it,” he rasped hoarsely when he finally remembered.

“Yes,” she repeated obediently.

He could tell she didn’t have a fucking clue what she was agreeing to and couldn’t have cared less at that moment. “You will contract with me on co-habitation,” he said determinedly.

“Yes.”

He ground his teeth together as she bucked her hips against his, sending hard waves of need through him and bringing him perilously closer to a complete loss of control. “Say the words,” he ground out hoarsely.

“I’ll contract with you.”

He’d already gathered himself to move when a sudden doubt shook him. “Gideon.”

She lifted her eyelids a fraction to peer at him. “Gideon! Please!”

That was close enough. Even if she hadn’t acknowledged she knew it was him, he couldn’t hold it any longer. Even as she spoke the words, the muscles along her channel rippled around him, milking him. Uttering a choked groan as his body responded by trying to pump his seed into her, he fought the urge down, trying to focus on something else, anything else. As desperately as he wanted to give in to the screaming demand of his body for release, he realized dimly that he had to give her what she needed first … what he’d promised in return for her promise.

He settled closer, watching her face as he moved his hips rhythmically to stroke his cock along her channel. Her face went slack with pleasure, her lips parting as she panted for breath, little sounds emanating from her throat. My woman, he thought, memorizing her face, savoring her scent warmed by her heated flesh, carried on her breath. His control slipped a notch. Gritting his teeth, he fought to hold on to it even as his body, with a will of its own, began to move faster, to thrust deeper. The little sounds she made deepened, became moans, reached inside of him and twisted his guts into a pretzel. His balls tightened, threatened to explode.

Gasping at the pain/pleasure that ripped through him, he shifted an arm beneath her hips, tilting them so that he could reach the bundle of nerves deep inside of her that would push her over the edge. He knew he’d found it when her moans grew sharper, harsher, when he felt her muscles contract around him and quake. Groaning, he yielded control to his instincts, felt it ripped away from his grasp as her cries escalated into a keen sound somewhere between a sob a scream, her body tensing abruptly before it began to convulse with ecstasy. His heart seized in his chest painfully. His belly tightened, forcing the breath from his lungs in a harsh grunt and then squeezing, forcing his seed from his body to bathe her womb.

His mind darkened as the red mindless haze lifted, carrying away every ounce of strength with it until he would’ve flattened her with his weight if not for his braced arms and even then it wasn’t the strength of his muscles that held his weight but the unyielding steel beneath the muscles. Wanting nothing more than to yield to the peace that beckoned, he struggled instead to fight it off