Page 39 of Strike Zone


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His gaze never left hers. With him, she wasn’t a support being. She was his entire focus.

Sweat dripped between her breasts. Her muscles ached. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders as he ravished her. Her pussy hummed with sensual abuse.

“More.” She pushed him further. Because she could. And because she was close. Fulfillment was in sight. Bands of need, of wanting were wrapping tighter and tighter around her chest.

“You’re fearless.” His eyes flashed with bright-blue energy, and he took her harder, deeper.

Her kind called a permanent relationship a merger. She hadn’t fully understood that term until now. Those beings must fuck like she and her cyborg were fucking. Until their molecules merged.

“Mine.” Strike grunted. “Mine.”

Both his sounds and his claiming were delightfully primitive. And her body responded. Her wetness slicked his shaft. Her thighs trembled.

“Mine.” She added her song to his. “Mine.”

He fucked her. She fucked him right back. A sense of connection, of rightness snapped and sizzled in the air between them.

They were where they were supposed to be. They were doing what they were supposed to be doing. Their joining was destined. And it was glorious.

It was gloriously intense. Kesser’s passions compounded with each passing moment. They were building to a feverish pitch, and she questioned if she’d survive that test.

She’d endured the previous fucks.

The current ravishment was, as she’d recklessly requested, more.

Fates. She clenched her jaw. It might be the one to break her.

She didn’t know if she could take the tension. It pulled her in every direction.

“My Strike.” That was a plea for mercy.

“I process. What you need.” He drew back his hips, withdrawing to his tip.

She liked that he kept that physical link between them. It was a kink she hadn’t realized she had. She craved that continued bond with him.

“I don’t know that you?—”

He adjusted his angle ever-so-slightly and thrust fully into her. His unrelenting form hit her clit.

She detonated with bliss. “Mine.” Kesser shrieked as she levitated off the console.

Her cyborg stopped her ascent, caging her between his bulging biceps and his rock-hard chest. She squeezed his cock with her intimate walls and raked his skin with her fingernails.

Her savageness shocked her, but it seemed to stimulate him.

“Mine.” He howled his ownership of her, pushed deeper, and joined her in rapture. Cum shot from his tip and blasted her inner flesh with heat and effervescence and more ecstasy.

His eyes went dark. His handsome face was stark with passion.

Kesser was rendered helpless under that sensory assault. She came again. That euphoria destroyed the little that was left of her mind. She writhed and twisted under him. And she coaxed more enticing essence from his form.

He filled her to overflowing. The bubbling spread from her core to the tip of her head, her fingers, her toes. It felt like a million clones of him were nipping at her body with their lips.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She shook with the force of her release.

Those gyrations eased only when her cyborg stilled. The elation became manageable.

She sagged against the console. “You hadn’t lied.” She tried to smooth the marks she’d left on his chest. “It is always like this.”

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