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They reached almost intolerable heights. The rapture became too much for her. It was too good. She quaked violently against Drift, twisting within his embrace, uncaring that she was situated far above the floor.
Her male didn’t allow her to fall. He secured her to the wall with his chest and arms and cock, and he murmured words she couldn’t decipher against her skin.
Moments passed.
Roshini returned to reality. Her body sagged against his. “Fates. I love you.”
Drift’s systems must have rebooted. He kissed her forehead and murmured, “I love you too, my female.” His tone held all the warmth of that caring.
The wariest of beings, and she could definitely qualify for that title, couldn’t deny the truth in his words.
Her cyborg loved her. He loved her.
She glowed.
Their future was uncertain. The Plan they were undertaking was extremely risky. Many aspects of it could go seriously wrong.
But Drift loved her, and she loved him, and they would face their fate—whatever it was—together.
* * *
They fucked two more times. Slower. With more tenderness and less urgency.
She slept for a short while. Her cyborg recharged as he held her. When she woke, they ate nourishment bars and she drank beverage.
Then they readied themselves for the Plan. Neither of them tidied their forms. Roshini wanted her male’s scent on her. And Drift seemed to feel the same way.
Her cyborg dressed in his body armor and boots. He filled his holsters and sheaths with weapons. Then he covered his ensemble with the lifeform-blocking cloak. Fabric from another cloak had been attached to his boots.
He should now be undetectable by the Invaders’ systems. They’d tested the ensemble many times, verifying that. It should conceal him from any technological monitoring.
Roshini donned her seductress outfit.
Her body pigment, for that disguise, was the palest of pink. It was almost white. She dabbed darker pink pigment on her nipples. Her simulated hair was long and straight and blonde.
The fingernails she adhered were a bright shade of pink. They matched her garment, which was admittedly not much of a garment at all. Curve-enhancing bands of fabric barely covered her breasts. The top was held in place with flimsy straps. An ass-length bolt of fabric circled her ass, hips, and mons. Her bright-pink boots reached mid-thigh.
The heels of that footwear had been altered to hold cylinders of Erinomean Green Fire. Those hidden compartments wouldn’t be used.
Drift would carry the explosives.
He slid them into carefully selected holsters. “You look beautiful, my female.”
She smiled. He thought she looked beautiful in every disguise. “The males only see my breasts.” The cut of the fabric was designed to make that part of her look more…bountiful.
“Your breasts are wonderful.” Her cyborg gazed at them with open admiration. The bulge in his body armor, despite their previous three rounds of fucking, was flatteringly pronounced. “But I prefer to look into your eyes.”
His admission melted her heart. “Because my eyes are the only part of me that’s truly real?”
“Because in your eyes, I see your courage, your cleverness, your love.” He smiled at her.
“Fates, you can talk, my cyborg.” She moved closer to him. “And remember, this planet rotation, that I do love you.”
What she had to do, what Drift would see, would test their relationship.
“The Invader will…grope me.” She wrinkled her nose. That had always bothered her, but she had to tolerate it. They needed the enemy male in order to gain entry to the leader portion of the structure. “I’ll flirt with him, chatter to him as though I want to breed with him, touch him also.”
Thankfully, that was all she’d have to do with the Invader this planet rotation. They wouldn’t progress further than touching.
