Cyborg Seduction. Grace Goodwin
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appeared behind my shoulders, solid and cold and unbreakable. A room formed around us and I blinked slowly, barely noticing the stark surroundings. One bed. One chair. Very utilitarian. Military. No plush pillows or thick rugs on the floor. No color, no flowers or artwork or even a design on the sheets on the bed.
Black. Gray. Brown.
I was about to comment, but Kiel’s head dropped to my breast and I closed my eyes, tugging at his hair to hold him closer, demand more. His hand roamed around my ass to find my wet core and he pushed two fingers inside me without caution or warning. My back arched and I hissed at the glorious intrusion. I was tight and his fingers were big. I felt everything, the press and curl of those dextrous digits.
I nearly came all over him, my pussy clenching down on him like a fist.
“Do it,” I breathed. Who was this woman I’d turned into? “Fuck me. God, just fuck me.”
As if he’d been holding back still, his leash finally snapped, he slipped his fingers from me, gripped my hips to lift me higher over his cock and stopped, looking me in the eye. “Where are you?”
I blinked slowly, squirming to lower myself onto his rock hard length. Why was he stopping now? Why was he talking? “What?” I wiggled, but he held me pinned to the wall, his hot, muscled chest and arms holding me in place. I felt the slick heat of my arousal on my hip from his fingers. I knew what all of this felt like in real life. Knew what my arousal smelled like. Knew the sensation of wet fingers against my ass or my thighs. I was no virgin, and even though I knew this was a dream, my mind was filling in all the blanks…brilliantly.
“Where are you, Lindsey?”
My dazed mind couldn’t make sense of his words. “I’m dreaming.” Duh. I tossed my head back so that it bumped the wall behind me and I moaned his name. “Kiel. Please. Do it. I want you. Please.”
Begging. I was begging. But I’d never felt like this before. Never. The mark on my hand burned and he lifted both of my wrists above my head as I slid down onto his huge cock. I was wet, so wet, but he was huge and I gasped. Sobbed. Shifted my hips to take more. He opened me up, filled me deep, then deeper still.
He groaned as he filled me and I lifted my head to kiss him. But he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking up at my hands. Using one of his own to hold both of my wrists, he traced my birthmark with the other, the touch sending sharp bites of pleasure straight to my clit until I bucked and cried out.
He pumped into me, hard and fast, burying his face in my neck as if he wanted to smell me, scent me, soak me into his lungs. But he couldn’t. Not here. There was nothing of him for me to smell. Nothing to taste. I felt treasured and cheated all at once. I could smell the wildflower scent of my favorite shampoo, smell the wet heat of my pussy as I rode him. But that was all. I couldn’t smell him. The dream didn’t let me taste him. Smell him. God, I wanted to lick him all over, rub my cheek on his chest and rub his scent all over my flesh.
I wondered what he smelled like. Pine and wood chips? Musky? Like my favorite teak and ginger scented cologne?
He entwined my fingers with his, the gesture odd and romantic and so strange I was afraid I was going to wake up. Not now. Please, not now.
“Lindsey,” he said my name again and nipped at the base of my neck with his teeth, the added sensation pushed me over the edge and I shattered, the pulsing of my pussy pulling him deeper, squeezing him without mercy until he lost control and groaned, filled me up, his seed pumping into me as my mind added the details.
I could feel the heat of it coating my insides. And I wanted more. This dream wasn’t enough.
Something jostled me and I shifted, my entire body jerking to the side.
“No!” Kiel yelled, but it was too late. Dream time was over. Something was happening to me and I needed to wake the hell up.
I tried to kiss him, to say goodbye, but he faded too quickly.
Blinking slowly, I opened my eyes and fought back tears. He was gone, and that fact hurt me a lot more than it should have. I was alone again. Not alone, as in I didn’t have a boyfriend or a husband to share my life with. No, alone as in traveling through space, light years away from my hurt child. Getting farther and farther with every second that passed.
Of course, I wasn’t exactly emotionally stable right now. I was scared shitless and using every ounce of courage I possessed to do what I had to do. I needed to help my son. I needed to complete my assignment and get back to Earth. I’d worked two jobs and sacrificed a lot to get my degree in journalism. And this is what it got me? Broke. Desperate to help my son. Trapped inside a shipping crate on an alien world populated with savage warriors and killers?
Any dream was better than my reality. But Kiel, the Hunter, had left my heart aching, my pussy needy. He’d made me feel something besides fear, besides hopelessness. He’d made me feel protected, cherished. Loved. He was powerful, strong enough to lean on, to accept my need and not resent me for it. But Kiel didn’t exist. He was just a dream man and that hurt so much. Why was my mind so cruel?
I stared at the display screen on my standard issue Coalition Fleet battle armor. The conspirators on Earth had given me everything they said I would need. Even the bizarre technology that took bodily waste from me so that I would never have to visit the ladies’ room as long as I stayed within range of their transport technology stations. That had been one of the worst ‘exams’ of my life. Like the gynecologist but with space dildos putting alien gadgets inside my body. A cold, creepy shudder rushed through me as I remembered the cold, clinical look of the doctor as she’d shoved that stuff inside me as preparation for my trip.
And that was enough of thinking about that.
With a shuddering breath, I closed my eyes and tried to think about Kiel instead, tried to hold onto the pleasure still coursing through my body. My pussy was swollen and hot, the pulsing of my orgasm sending aftershocks through my system. My hand burned and I rubbed at it through the gloves I wore, wondering if the mark on my palm would truly be red, of if this was some strange, lingering delusion my mind was conjuring to torture me.
My dream man was gone. The nightmare about my son’s broken body was gone. And reality? Reality was staring at the inside walls of a Coalition Fleet shipping crate. No, it wasn’t pitch black. No, it wasn’t suffocating. I’d become used to the scent of dirt and trees from my corner where I had a comfortable chair, anchored in place. I had food and water, light.
It wasn’t ideal, but they’d given me a pill to help me sleep. I was calm—too calm—and I had a feeling that special pill worked a little too well. I’d always been sensitive to medications. They probably didn’t want me to freak out halfway through the journey, and I had to admit, neither did I.
If I thought about where I was going—what I had to do—for long enough, losing my freaking mind would be easy to do. I remained calm, slept, entertained myself with a tablet with movies. The perfect two-day “veg-fest” as long as I didn’t think about the fact that I was hurtling through deep space in a freighter at light speed.
Forty-eight hours I’d been locked inside this cube. Yes, I had a full suit of Coalition camouflage space armor and helmet. The squinty eyed-doctor in the Miami Processing center had promised me I could survive for two weeks on the air and energy processing units built into the suit. Much longer than the two or three day journey should require.
But I wasn’t sure I trusted that bitch. My head still hurt where she’d jabbed a needle into my skull to implant what they called a Neural Processing Unit, a gadget that was supposed to make it possible for me to understand every alien language I might encounter where I was going: The prison planet known only as The Colony.
The Colony was some kind of dirty little secret that no one was supposed to know about. Some of Earth’s troops were reported to be there, tossed away like garbage by our own government. A few months ago, Senator Brooks from Massachusetts had received word that his nephew, a Navy SEAL who had volunteered for the Coalition Fleet, had died on this far off world under mysterious