Chasing Mayhem by Cynthia Sax Page B

quickly for scarring. “Strangers will always view you as being the fiercer warrior. It will be an incorrect assumption but--”
    “Incorrect?” She reacted as he predicted, pointing her gun between his flat pectoral muscles. “I am fiercer.”
    “Prove it.” He challenged her. “Show me your scars.”
    “I have quite a few.” She set her weapon on his chest and stripped, revealing a silver scar under her left breast, another one on her left hip. Removing her boots uncovered wide scars on both calves.
    Mayhem’s fingers folded into fists. Some bastard had tried to cripple her. “You’ve been tested and you survived, my female.”
    “I made mistakes,” she admitted.
    “All warriors make mistakes.” Even cyborgs made errors in battle. “Your scars are beautiful.” He lifted his head and kissed the mark on her hip. “They are unique, badges of courage.”
    “I almost earned a new one today.” Her smile was wry.
    “Almost.” The memory of the attack threatened to shut down his processors. He flipped her onto her back, needing to be inside her, to reassure himself that she was undamaged, alive.
    She shrieked, grabbing his shoulders. Her gun slid with a thud to the floor.
    “Mayhem--”
    “Open to me.” He nudged his cock between her legs.
    She complied, spreading her thighs. Mayhem pushed his tip inside her tight entrance and gritted his teeth. She was so wet, so hot, so right for him.
    And she wasn’t passive. His fiery female hitched her hips higher and higher, impaling herself on his thick shaft. Her pussy lips pulled snugly around him. Lines of strain formed around her eyes and mouth.
    “Be still, female.” He slowed his progress, not wishing to damage her. “Have mercy on me.”
    “I’m a Retriever.” Her eyes glinted. “I have no mercy.”
    “You’re a warrior,” he corrected. She was no longer a Retriever. They were voyaging to the Homeland after this. He would never allow her to return to the Humanoid Alliance, to undertake their tasks, to put herself at risk.
    Her softness slid up his cock, surrounding him, until her folds kissed his base. He lowered a fraction of his weight, pinning her ass to the sleeping support, raising himself upward with his arms, and he gazed into her brown eyes. “Are you damaged, my female?”
    “As if you could damage me.” She scoffed. “I can take anything you give me, warrior.”
    “I don’t have more to give you.” He chuckled, amused at her ferocity. “You took all of me.”
    She opened her mouth.
    He claimed her lips, surging inside her, swallowing her retort. She jabbed his tongue with hers and his shoulders shook with laughter. His female was a joy. They dueled, attacking, retreating, chasing, hunting, their tongues twirling and tumbling.
    Her pussy eased around his cock. He pulled out, pushed back in, pulled out, pushed back in, as they kissed. Imee matched his rhythm, giving as much as she got.
    Her fingers curled over his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his waist. “Hard.” She gasped against his neck. “Your body is hard, like rock.”
    “Like metal.” His frame protected his more vulnerable systems.
    “Yes, metal.” Imee brushed her nipples against his chest. “That’s what you taste like.” She licked his neck and he shuddered. Her tongue was rough and wet.
    He increased his tempo, pounding into his female. Her warmth dripped between his beleaguered balls. Her fingernails raked his back, leaving trails of tantalizing pain, that burn accentuating his pleasure.
    “More. Blast you,” she cried. “Give me more.”
    Fraggin’ hole. His female was demanding.
    And he loved it. He thrust hard and deep, seeking to give her what she wanted, what she needed. She panted her approval. A slick sheen of sweat covered her curves, making her golden skin glisten.
    “Fuck.” She smacked her heels against his clenched ass cheeks. Their bodies slapped together, heat radiating from the points of impact. “More.”
    Mayhem growled,