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And if they’d had complete control over their surroundings, they likely would have stayed like that for longer.
But they could soon share their surroundings with, at least, one other being.
Kesser sighed and reluctantly pulled away from her cyborg. “We should don some garments.”
“Do you want to don some garments?” Strike lifted one of his eyebrows.
“No.” She wanted to push him onto his back, lower herself on his thick cock and boink him into the tiled floor until his eyes went dark. “But Talley will be returning to the ship. She might bring Tsadok and his dad with her.” They would then get an eyeful and she would never be able to meet their gazes again. “I really don’t want them to see my bare ass.”
“You have a spectacular ass, my female.” Her male cupped that part of her with both of his big hands.
Her pussy clenched around nothing.
She wanted him. Again. Always.
“And I’ll detect their approach.” He gave her another reason to delay their return to reality. “You’ll have sufficient time to don garments.”
That was all she needed to hear to quash her inhibitions.
“You might have to assist me with that task.” She wiggled her ass.
Strike reclined, taking her with him. “I’ll assist you with all of your tasks.” He pulled her forward until she straddled his face. “I detect one requiring immediate action.” His words were muffled by her pussy. “I’m applying myself to it.”
He licked her sensitive flesh with the flat of his tongue.
Pleasure swept over Kesser. A moan of approval left her lips.
Fates. She loved her male.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Strike’s female loved him.
She loved him. A warrior manufactured to kill. A being who hadn’t completed the mission he’d been assigned.
A male who loved her back with every nanocybotic in his form.
He would kill to protect her and shift the universe, if he could, to make her happy.
She was his priority.
They donned their garments. He assisted her as he’d vowed.
She laughed and batted his hands away from her.
Her joy amplified his. Their future would be filled with such happiness. He was 100.0000 percent certain of that.
Before they started that portion of their lifespans, he had to ensure the one task he’d left undone was transferred to one of his brethren.
He would relay his lack of success to Captain. The male might have a preference as to which warrior assumed his responsibilities.
Strike would also inform Captain and his other brethren he wouldn’t be returning to the Dauntless.
His place was with his little human. They were both needed by the beings on her planet and on the neighboring planet.
The two of them would determine the fate of billions of humans and humanoids. He grasped his female’s hand. When he’d ventured out into the sector to search for the origins of the pulsing sound, he had also been looking for a sense of purpose.
He’d found it—at his female’s side.
