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“What will you say to the beings you report to when you check in with them?” She wrinkled her nose. “Or do you report directly to Tsadok? Did he assign the role to you?”
There was a 96.4256 percent probability his female would be angry with him. There was a 99.9857 percent probability her trust in him would be damaged.
But Strike had to reveal his true identity to her.
He couldn’t lie. Cyborgs didn’t have that ability.
And he didn’t want to deceive his female further by evading the truth. She deserved to process whose lap she was sitting on.
He met her gaze. “I’m not Tsadok’s guard.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re…you’re…not?”
“I’m investigating a situation for my captain…and for the cyborg council.” He emphasized the importance of his mission. “I stopped on your planet to gather intel.” His lips twisted. “There was no intel to gather. Your kind appears to be unaware of the situation.”
She blinked once, twice. “Are you…” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Abducting me?”
“Do you want me to abduct you?” That prospect appealed to a primitive part of him he hadn’t processed existed.
“I shouldn’t want that.” Her confession caused his cock to bob. “No.” Her spine straightened. “I don’t want that. My friend and her possible partner are in danger. I have to save them.”
“We will save them.” He admired his female’s loyalty. “I’ll assist you with the rescue.”
“Why would you assist me?” She frowned at him. “You don’t know me. I’m just some female who walked up to you and demanded you take me to your ship and…Fates.” She slapped her forehead again. “You didn’t abduct me. I abducted you.”
“I wanted to be abducted.” He grinned.
Her lips curled ever-so-slightly upward. “What are we going to do? This is a mess.”
“We’re going to rescue your friend and her possible partner. That’s what we’re going to do.” He wasn’t 100.0000 percent certain how they would accomplish that mission at the moment. There were missing inputs. But they would be successful.
He wouldn’t fail his female.
“You’ll help me?” She lifted her eyebrows.
“I’ll help you.” He’d rearrange the universe if she required that task to be done.
She leaned toward him. “Thank you, my Strike.” She kissed his chin.
His processors strained under the wonder of that brief unexpected touch. Passion raced along his circuits. And his database was purged of words yet again.
He gazed at her with a physical hunger he struggled to contain.
“Shouldn’t you be watching the main viewscreen?” Her eyes glowed. “You’re flying the ship.”
“The guidance system is flying our ship.” He verified that truth remotely. “I’m doing this.” He cradled her jaw with his hands, lowered his head and captured her lips.
They were soft and full, and they parted for him immediately. He delved into her hot mouth, claiming that terrain. Their tongues tangled and twined. His female met every one of his advances halfway. She was courageous and passionate and his, all his.
A growl rolled up his throat. The savage sound seemed to surprise both of them.
She moaned her response and fervently sucked on his tongue. That tug and release was felt throughout Strike’s entire body. He throbbed with passion.
For her. All for her.
He stroked her skin with his thumbs as he ravished her mouth. She was soft all over. And she tasted sweet, like the ripest, most-decadent berries.
She pressed against him more and more. Her curves buffed his body armor.
