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“Have mercy on me, my female.” He groaned. That deep sound curled her toes.
She paused for three heartbeats.
Because she couldn’t capitulate that easily. And also, because she wasn’t a kind being.
“I’ll have mercy on me.” She blew lightly on his cockhead. “I want this as much as you do, my male.”
“That’s impossible.” Strain edged her cyborg’s voice. “I want this more than my next breath.”
“Nothing is impossible between us.” And she would give him what he craved.
Kesser pushed her lips over his tip.
Explosions of energy detonated in Strike’s eyes. His shaking intensified.
She took him deeper and deeper, cradling his shaft with her tongue.
His breathing turned ragged.
His tip tapped the back of her throat. She couldn’t take all of him. Her male was too large.
She wrapped her fingers around his remaining length.
“Harder.” He growled. “Grip me harder, my female.”
Kesser complied with that order.
Understanding unfurled within her. Her cyborg needed that pressure to maintain his control.
He needed her. And she loved him.
She drew back until her lips touched his rim. Then she surged forward once more. She drew back and surged forward, drew back and surged forward.
Strike’s countenance grew more and more stark, but he didn’t move. He didn’t touch her.
Her cyborg stood tall and still before her. He was a stationary pillar of gray skin and defined muscle over an unbending metal frame.
That impressed her. And it also pushed her to break his restraint, to topple him into wildness. She increased her pace.
His chest rose and fell faster. And his hands twitched.
He was close to breaking.
She sucked on his cock. Hard.
“Yes.” He threaded his fingers through her curls. “Yes.” He twisted her hair.
The pricks of pain over her scalp titillated her. She worked him with increased vigor.
“Yes.” Her cyborg rocked into her.
Her grip on his base prevented him from delving too deep and blasting out her throat. Her lips stretched around his girth as he advanced and retreated.
They labored together, acting as a sensual team. Their mission was to give both of them the most decadent pleasure.
Strike’s gentle rocking shifted into savage thrusts. His balls slapped her chin. His grunts echoed in the chamber. Those primitive sounds plucked at Kesser’s nipples and stroked her pussy.
Her desire rose as quickly as his did. It pulsed through her form. And connection, physical, emotional, and spiritual, flowed between them. They were linked in passion, in caring, in need.
