***

ELODIE HUNCHED OVER the table across from her dad, toying with the food he’d managed to create. Gummy pieces of popcorn sat in a cup of gelatin that was slowly dissolving. Balls of water teetered to the sides as she rolled them back and forth, her movements strained. She was captivated by what felt like a king’s ransom in water compared to the tiny gels they were given in the brig.

After weeks of no real food beyond the tasteless, chewy rations, she should’ve been ravenous, but she couldn’t manage to eat. Elodie pulled Gunner’s jacket further around her and shivered.

“What’s that?” she asked her dad. He had a contraption in his hands and several found tools and gadgets lying about.

“Found it hooked onto the wall outside our door. It’s an alarm but some of the older pieces are rusted out. The guts look serviceable though.”

“What’re you going to use it for?”

“Well,” he rubbed his lips, brow creasing, “if I can clean it up, I can switch its channel to broadcast and turn it into a distress beacon. But I’m aiming for a radio, something I can use to communicate instead of just broadcasting a canned message. Spacers are a little wary of distress beacons, we might just end up with more pirates. If we have communication, we have everything.”

Leave it to Dad to always be off the beaten path. A hopeful smile tugged her lips. “Good idea. Do you think you can get it to work?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On if I can find the parts,” he huffed. “But we’re surrounded by machines and we’re both damn good at keeping these things running. If we pull a transponder out of one of those ground vehicles I saw a little ways back and wire it directly to one of the secondary power rails in the ship to boost the signal, I can use it as a relay so the bridge won’t know where we are. The mains would be too dangerous. After that, maybe I can pull the two speakers out of this broken alarm and use one as a low-sensitivity microphone...”

“I can help,” she quickly added.

Her dad nodded. “You’ll need to. Your fingers are steadier than mine.”

An idea came to mind as she watched him cut a wire. “Dad, what if...what if we get this to work? If we send out a beacon or get back onto the network, we’ll have to have a location to broadcast. No one’s going to put in the effort to triangulate us without a reward, and we don’t have much to offer. But maybe we can get a government cruiser to come if we tell them it’s a disabled pirate ship.” Elodie leaned forward. “We’ll need the ship to stop long enough for that. We can make the ship stop.”

He lifted his eyes. “Break the machines?”

“Yes!”

Chesnik canted his head. “Near impossible with them running. But a good back-up idea. Hand me those tweezers.”

The odds of single-handedly stopping the ship were slim, but it was possible. With the hope of a functional beacon, she felt little more comfortable. If we can get a signal out maybe someone will come. If we can hide long enough...we can survive!

Her thoughts crashed back into the present. None of this took into account her deal with Gunner and the plans that were already set in motion. Gunner’s plans had nothing to do with staying put and waiting for an opportune moment. It made her itch not knowing where he was or what he was doing.

He was fierce—terrifying, even. He had shouldered responsibility for their escape without a second thought. She was bound to him. The decision to follow her dad out of the brig still haunted her. He’ll return without me there. He’ll be angry.

Won’t he?

They had become close, sharing the same small space for countless hours with nothing but each other’s company to keep the madness and despair at bay. Even so, she had no real clue how he felt about her. He’s willing to risk his life for mine, for strangers he doesn’t know, but he would be risking it regardless for his ship.

Elodie threaded her fingers together and brought them to her lips, wishing for clarity, wishing that... Gunner was sitting next to her right now instead of her dad.

I like him. She strained her fingers. I...miss him.

How did I become so attached?

“You got something on your mind?” her dad asked.

She glanced up to find him watching her. “I’m afraid,” she choked out. I am. Her gaze kept drifting to the door. “I don’t like not knowing what’s happening.”

Or where Gunner was. Had he found her gone? Was he in trouble? The more questions that skirted through her mind, the heavier her guilt weighed.

“Don’t worry about that right now. As long as we stay holed up down here it won’t affect us,” he said. “We got some guns, some tools, some food, and some water. They won’t look for us down here, not yet at least, and if they do, there’s not many of them on the ship. They’d have to climb through the machines single file or in pairs of two. We’ll be ready if that happens, we’ll take them out. If we stick together, we’ll be fine.”

“And that beast? The one that tore those men apart?” Gunner.

“Won’t be able to get past these metal doors without a keycard.”

“Dad...” she began but trailed off. Elodie didn’t know how to tell him that she’d made a deal with a Cyborg. The words caught on the tip of her tongue and every second that passed, they grew harder to say.

It left a sour taste in her mouth. Not only had she set current events in motion, she actually wanted the creature responsible for it by her side.

Her choice in men was enough to get her committed. A Cyborg held her heart in the palm of his hand. She glanced back at the door. What have I done?

“Ely. Remember when we were stationed on the Far Seeing?”

“How could I forget?” she mumbled.

“You’d just grown into a woman then, it feels like yesterday, being on that job. Maybe because what happened haunts me still. It was your birthday.” Her dad laughed. “And I gave you a flask of whiskey to celebrate. ‘Don’t leave the room,’ I said, ‘enjoy yourself,’ I also said.”

“I remember.” Her eyes remained on the locked door behind him. She still had nightmares of that time.

“And you did. I got to share a drink with my daughter, and for a little while, it was just the two of us. We could take on anything, you and me... I’d never heard you laugh so much in my life before that night. It was like all the years of stress melted away. I was so proud of you.”

Her eyes darted from the door and back to him. “You were?”

“Yeah. We made a great team. There wasn’t a rig in the universe we couldn’t operate and fix.”

“There still isn’t,” she smiled, “and you taught me everything I know.”

Tsk. “You taught me more.”

“But it didn’t last...” She shook her head.

“No. It didn’t.”

The Far Seeing did feel like yesterday. She could still taste the bitter whiskey in her mouth. “You passed out.”

“And I regret that to this day.”

“I had to pee.”

“And you left the quarters, a drunken rat.” He chuckled again but there was no mirth behind it.

“You do know I forgive you. Never held it against you in the first place. I knew what alcohol did to a person and had been around it enough to know what could happen. What happened afterward,” she looked back at the door, “was always a possibility.”

The conversation stalled between them and the distant, shallow pinging of the sirens was the only sound to fill the air.

She had left their room in the middle of the rest cycle, drunk and uninhibited, to go to the lavatory. She’d been caught with her pants down when another crew member came in. It had been quick, the shock of discovery—terrifying and freeing at the same time. And although she was out of her mind and still giddy from the booze, she remembered the man’s face as his eyes zeroed in on her privates.

She’d flown back to her quarters, woken her dad and before the alcohol had a chance to wear off either of them, they had deployed an escape pod and vanished into space, leaving everything behind.

They’d purchased new identities to avoid arrest for stealing tech, dropping the pod at the first opportunity, and remained landside on a border planet for six months. That was how long it took for the money to run out, and then choices had to be made. Her dad signed up for another mining job. She had followed him once again.

Another six years of living in a man’s world, another six years of pretending, passed by until they’d been caught and thrown into a brig.

“We’ll make it through this. Like we made it through that,” her dad said.

A thunderous roar from outside suddenly shook the room.

“Elodie!” Her name took shape in the sound, horrible and thick. The door rattled and her dad shot to his feet.

A gun was in his hand and he was struggling with the safety the next second. “What the hell!?”

Elodie’s hands clenched and her heart pounded.

Gunner. He’s found me.

They stared at the door as Gunner pounded on the other side. Sweat dampened her palms.

“Let me,” the roaring turned into growled words, “in, dammit!” The pounding increased in intensity, jarring the entire room. He was furious.

“Ely, get back!”

Metal caved inward.

“I can’t,” she hissed, rising to her feet. Gunner came for me.

The door shot open and a man she barely knew stood in the doorway. A face materialized over the shattered threshold, shaded and framed in pulsing red. He was bare-chested, draped in ribbons of red, and the only thing she recognized was the blistering red orbs of his eyes.

The outline of his body was partially hunched, crooked, and heaving, his breath rocking his entire frame. Steam from the machines behind masked his form in an obscure, terrifying halo-of-hell.

Elodie’s lips parted, her mouth dried up. Goosebumps pricked her flesh. Shadows accentuated the monster’s features; the high-spiked ears, the partially-formed snout, the deep-set eyes sockets. The red glow coming from his pupils glinted off his metal teeth.

The parts of him that were metal were covered in condensation, the rest blood.

“Who the fuck are you!?” Her dad yelled, shielding her with his body as he raised his gun.

“Gunner,” she whispered.

“What. The. Hell!?” her dad stammered and yelled again when the creature didn’t answer, driving the two of them slowly deeper into the room.

She grabbed the back of her dad’s shirt and pulled, never taking her eyes off of Gunner’s, which speared her on the spot. “Lower your weapon,” she begged. “Please.” It was meant for the both of them.

“Like fuck, I will!”

Gunner didn’t even notice her dad.

“Please!” Elodie pleaded, stepping forward.

“You weren’t in the brig.” His voice breathed fire. It burned the very core of her soul.

“It wasn’t safe anymore,” she said, trying to exude calm in the frenzy of activity. Gunner’s face was half-sculpted in metal, and half-demonic with pointed, beastly features. His teeth were long and sharp, and his mouth was twisted somewhere between that of a snout and a man’s. But it was his eyes that set her skin ablaze. They were the only part of him that she would always recognize. Those eyes had become her anchor. Those scarlet orbs had burned away all need for her grey wall of detachment.

Her dad grabbed hold of her and wrenched her close. Snarling, Gunner darted forward and grabbed him by the neck.

Gunner held him there, blocking her view, and Elodie choked back her horror when the outline of his face went from merely bestial to truly wolfish. Every edge of his features severed, revealing gleaming planes of polished steel. She knew instinctively they were sharp enough to cut.

“He’s my dad!” she cried. “My dad!” Her fingers tore across Gunner’s wounded, naked back. “Don’t kill him! Gunner!”

Chesnik gurgled and grappled against Gunner’s grip. Elodie gave up pulling on Gunner, instead freeing a gun from the strap across his chest. She aimed it at him and thumbed the safety off. She hoped the gun wasn’t DNA locked to some recently-dead crew member.

“Let him go,” she screamed.

“He took you away!”

“I left with him!”

“Why?” The hold on her dad slackened a little, and the sounds squeezing from Chesnik’s throat gained breath.

“Because it wasn’t safe anymore. Because he has a plan. Because he’s my dad!”

Gunner abruptly dropped Chesnik. Legs buckling, her dad slumped to the ground, holding his throat. Elodie lowered the gun and crouched next to her father to shield and help him rise. Ragged, sucking breaths filled her ears, and tremors racked both their bodies. She heard Gunner take a heavy step back.

When she mustered enough courage to turn around and face him head-on, the Gunner she knew had returned, as if he’d been there the whole time.

He turned away from her and smashed his fist into a wall, puncturing a hole. Elodie startled back when he fell to his knees and his entire frame convulsed. Her dad took the gun from her hand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Gunner growled as his frame seized and stiffened. “Another shot won’t do anything to me.”

“Who are you?” her dad choked out.

Gunner’s eyes met hers. “You didn’t tell him?”

“I didn’t have time.”

Something unreadable flashed over his face. Elodie positioned herself between the two men.

Her dad turned on her. “You know him? Who is he?”

“A Cyborg. I made a deal with him. He’s going to get us off this ship alive.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t have time!”

They both glared at her. Gunner rose, shakily, from his knees, using a hand on the broken wall for leverage. She wanted to go to him but she wanted to flee at the same time. There was no pain in his eyes. Only ferocity.

Her dad moved away and sat wearily back at the table. “So, there’s a Cyborg on this ship,” he groaned, lifting a hand up to rub his neck. “Explains the chaos. And you made a deal with him?” He shot her an incredulous look.

“Yes.”

“With what?”

Elodie glanced from him to Gunner and back to him. “With what I have.”

“Which is?” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me... For fuck’s sake, Ely, does he know?”

Gunner answered before she could. “I know.”

Her dad lifted the stolen gun again and aimed it at him. “The deal’s off. Now. We want nothing from you. We’ll find our own way out.”

A half-crazed smile drifted over Gunner’s lips, making her shiver. She’d never seen him look the way he did now. “The deal and its terms have nothing to do with you. And, Chesnik, is it? It’s time for your daughter to pay up.”

***

GUNNER WAS HAVING A hard time keeping his systems running smoothly. Every other minute, they stopped and restarted. They rebooted. But each time they did, the process was shorter, his nanocells changing to battle Ballsy’s disruption. He was slowly returning to a fully functioning machine. But not fucking fast enough.

Elodie was safe, standing several feet away from him, though her father had murder in his eyes. No more patience.

It was gone. His muscles bunched and released and most of the bullets still embedded in his back popped out to hit the floor with ringing clangs.

“Get out,” he growled at Chesnik.

“Fuck you. We want nothing from you.”

“It’s not your decision.”

He shot a look at Elodie. She appeared lost. How could she not be? It was the choice between him, a maniac, or her dad, a mere mortal who risked his life to break her out of the brig. They both had risked their lives for her. But the difference, he knew, was that he didn’t make her life easier in the process. He made it harder.

Gunner wasn’t going to leave the choice up to her.

“If you don’t leave now,” he snarled, “I’ll have to force you. And if I do, you’ll never see your daughter again.” He meant it to be a lie, but after the words came out, he wasn’t so sure.

To his shock, Elodie spoke out. “Dad. Leave.”

Chesnik stared at her. “I’m not leaving you alone with him. He’ll have to kill me first.”

“I made a deal. I did so willingly. I knew the risks and what I was asking for. I’m not a goddamned child! Listen to Gunner and leave.”

“So you call...it by a name? What’s gotten into you, boy?”

She held her ground. Held her own. But Gunner knew if she couldn’t persuade her dad to leave soon, he was going to force the issue and it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Nothing. Nothing’s gotten into me.” Elodie suddenly turned on him and Gunner leaned back into the damaged wall. “Is it safe for him if he leaves?”

“Yes. If he makes it back out of the underbelly but seeing—” a pulse rippled through him, stopping his words. Elodie had already turned back toward her dad before he could continue.

“Please leave us. He says it’s safe. If he says it’s safe, I believe him. It’s part of our deal.”

Chesnik rose to his feet. “What’s this deal?”

“Our safety and the safety of those in the brig. He’s going to get all of us off this ship alive. That’s his end of the bargain.”

“And you trust him?”

Gunner watched her face. He wanted to know the answer more than anyone. Now that the question was out in the open, he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Yes.”

Yes. The word punched him in the gut. It was everything. Elodie trusted him.

Trusted him. Had anyone ever trusted him before?

“You’ve lost your mind, girl,” Chesnik replied in a bitter, despondent tone. “Your damn mind.”

“Get. Out.” Gunner wouldn’t tell him again. They shared a withering stare but Chesnik slammed the gun onto the table and moved toward the door. Gunner walked him to the exit.

“Dad,” Elodie pleaded and took a step forward. Gunner stopped her with a dark glance over his shoulder.

I’m not going to let you go. Not so easily.

He had barely gained back the little bit of control he had. As Chesnik moved to cross the threshold, Gunner reached out and gripped the other side of the frame, blocking his way. He tightened his fingers, leaving an imprint on the steel. Chesnik looked up at him with alarmed resentment. Gunner made eye contact with the man.

“Release the others in the brig. Keep them safe until I get back. Tell them you’re following my orders,” he said before he dropped his arm and allowed the other man to leave.

Then he shunted the door back in place and broke the opening mechanism.

***

GUNNER STORMED PAST Elodie and went into the lavatory. Her eyes trailed after him. She heard the water run for a time, then stop.

A minute later he emerged in the doorway, dripping wet with a gun in his hand. The next moment, he was upon her, towering, seething, a glorious warrior possessed. Her own body tensed, half-naked under his long jacket, ready for the attack.

The barrel of his gun nudged her brow, tilting her head back enough to catch his eyes. Gunner’s face was the one she knew, or had come to know, the pistol tattoos on his cheekbones aimed directly at his mouth.

Elodie’s gaze followed the lines of his face, landing on his mouth, a flattened line that offered no sense of softness. She watched his lips as the gun pressed an imprint into her skin.

“You’re safe.” His lips moved like pressed steel. The words rolled out slowly, with no sense of urgency.

“I’m safe,” she agreed.

The gun slid from her temple to her cheek, leaving behind an invisible trail that would always haunt her. She swallowed, fingers twitching uselessly at her sides, hands tense with desire to reach out to him—her dark god in rent, bullet-ridden skin. So much pain.

“What happened to you?” she managed. Fresh blood trickled from his wounds. It caught in the water trails that trickled down his muscled body.

Everywhere.

“How can you still be standing?” she asked.

“A trap.” Gunner jerked again, eyes flashing—restarting. The pistol against her cheek dug into her skin. “Ballsy released...a viral shockwave to scramble my systems. Elodie, it’s still going off, chipping away at my control.” The words came out pained. “You weren’t in the brig.”

Losing control. She shivered at the thought and tentatively reached up and clasped the back of his hand. It was hard—unyielding—like the rest of him. But the gun slipped from her face to her collarbone.

“Nothing happened to me.” Reassure him. The bodies she’d passed by with her dad came to mind. She didn’t want to see anymore—not so soon. “My dad broke me out.”

Gunner’s eyes remained blank, relentless. “Kallan was after you.”

Her belly sank. Her grip tightened. “Why?”

“He had his suspicions. Same as me. He suspected you were a woman and was convinced enough to at least find out without a doubt. Those doubts have been removed. Permanently and with force. He won’t bother you again. And you weren’t in the fucking brig!” Twitch. Shudder. Reset.

Her fear increased by the moment. Elodie glanced around at the bleak, enclosed space, convinced a mob of men clung to the corner shadows when a hand slammed onto the wall next to her.

“Keep. Your. Eyes. On me,” Gunner ordered, looking down at her.

He brought the gun, which he handled with care, up to her lips and ran the muzzle of it back and forth. Wetted, fresh, and heated—kissing death and all its future harboring. Elodie parted her mouth and licked the edge of it, watching for his reaction. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as life slowly returned to his eyes. She kissed the gun again, empowered, and held her ground.

He won’t hurt me.

“If they know I’m a woman,” Elodie breathed into the metal that continued to sway across her mouth, “my time’s up.”

“Is it?” Gunner pressed her closer to the wall. Red hot heat and his soul-capturing eyes ensnared her. His naked chest was a hair’s breadth away. The sudden nearness was hard for her to comprehend. There was nothing between them anymore, no darkness, no bars, no walls, and no cameras. Her breath shortened. A delicious ache twisted between her legs.

He could take everything. Subdue me, own me, pluck my flower and tear off its petals. The barrel pushed past her lips, forcing her mouth open. It slipped in and over her tongue, its taste acrid and smoky. She raised her eyes to his hooded ones. Captivated and starved. And so stressed.

I’ll trust you. She implored without speaking. I do trust you. Let me trust you. Her eyes and nose burned. She was insane for feeling safe and trusting a psychopath.

Gunner dropped his hand from the wall with eerie quietness and cupped her nape, nudging his weapon infinitesimally in and out of her mouth.

Elodie tongued the hard edges, the gunpowder bloom, and the sweat, taking it and pretending it was him, an extension of him. And at that moment, it was him. The hand clutching her nape snaked down to the zipper at the top of the jacket, his fingers playing with its metal piece.

A low, panting vibration filled her ears, coming from his parted lips.

He pulled the gun from her mouth with a low pop. It was wet with her saliva as he ran it down her chin and the length of her strumming pulse, while he continued to toy with her only article of clothing and the last barrier between them. She licked the bitter taste of metal from her lips.

“Elodie,” Gunner rasped, leaning over her. “Take off my jacket.”

Something in the way he asked her made her clench her thighs together, fueling the need to be penetrated by him. To have his power inside her.

“I’m mostly bare underneath. My clothes are drying.” Elodie took the zipper from his fingers, and they played a tender game as hers moved under his to take over.

A groan hit the air. “I know.”

Slowly, escaping his gaze she lowered the zipper, the barrel of his firearm followed closely behind, raking over her collarbone, to stop above her shuddering heart—where it stayed for a few short beats—then down to the center of her chest and between her breasts.

The jacket covered her until the last second, her shoulders hunched to keep it in place. Elodie tugged the zipper ever-so-slowly, gorging herself on the hunger in the Cyborg’s blazing red eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to go faster, even as the blooming need for his touch ripped through her entire body.

The muzzle of the gun was now placed at the crux of her pelvis, and with her core cramping under the impending pressure of his gaze, she clenched in anticipation. The red glow of his eyes cast her pale skin in crimson, smoldering in the gloom-filled room. Pointed, direct, and vibrant.

Elodie toyed with the last link of the zipper, slowing down to a crawl before she finally unzipped the end. A shallow breath escaped her throat. She pushed her arms back, allowing Gunner a chance to see her as the jacket parted.

Gunner’s hands came up in unison, one still clutching the gun, to push the jacket off her shoulders, letting it pool to the floor. She was naked except for a strip of underwear that he quickly tore off, shredding the tiny strip with his fingers. Naked in front of an armed Cyborg who had just finished gunning down half the crew. The danger of her situation was intoxicating.

A very real, very feminine thrill surged through her. All she could think at that moment was that she hoped Gunner liked what he saw. She ached with need. Craved his touch. Her heart was pounding and each beat stoked the flames of the inferno between her legs higher. She could feel the hot blood coursing through her veins.

To her very core, Elodie wanted him. She wanted him to not only see that she wasn’t lacking, but to find her desirable too. She wanted him to pull her up against him. She wanted to feel his cock trapped between them, the Cyborg’s unnatural heat amplifying the fire within her.

But the longer Gunner stared at her, a feeling of uncertainty grew. She stiffened her back and dug her nails into her palms. Touch me. Please just touch me. Put your hands back on me. The time lengthened into an uneasy stalemate clouded under unreadable expressions and heat.

The mystery was gone.

Everything she wanted was a touch away, a brief word, another kiss, there was nothing stopping them. But it stopped. Her nerves frayed under his heavy gaze.

She lowered her eyes.

“On your knees, Ely.”

“Gunner?”

“Now.” Suddenly, the muzzle was pressed up against her forehead again.

The darkness in his voice was back. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as she slowly slid down the wall and toward the chilly floor, taking in his poised body with every inch she fell. Her knees met the ground just as her face leveled with his cock. It jerked and bobbed. The movements of his shaft were similar to the way his biceps and calves seized with tension.

Elodie scrunched into the space between Gunner and the wall and leaned her head back so as not to accidentally touch it—touch him. She wasn’t in control nor did she want to be in that moment.

The mushroom head of his cock was pierced on the underside, one small metal bauble in the shape of a bullet that went straight through the curvature of his tip. She wondered how she hadn’t noticed it before in the brig when Gunner had all but flashed his dick to the world.

Maybe I didn’t want to notice.

She noticed now. He was large and frightening. She was completely out of her element and drowning in the shadow of his imposing body. Elodie wiped her hands over her thighs as she got the eyeful of her life. The distant yet intermittent sirens still reached her ears, but they were nothing compared to the pounding blood filling her head.

They rang for something different now, she knew. A whole ship fallen into chaos because of the Cyborg who shadowed her.

She tempered her uncertainty and gradually reached up to grab hold of him.

Her fingers hooked around his girth and squeezed the veiny, unrelenting flesh. The pressure of his gun resting on her head was no longer the only connection between them.

Gunner jerked and pressed closer with a groaning thrust. It startled her. His lighted eyes dimmed before brightening anew. Elodie braced as another wave of what plagued his systems threaded through him.

She held on as he shook and short-circuited, her hand—too small to wrap around him fully—massaging and discovering his heavy shaft. When she touched the piercing at the tip, it burned.

The scent of sea salt and butter flooded her nostrils, rich in comparison to everything else as a trickle of creamy precum dripped from his tip. The weapon poised at her head vanished as his hands slammed against the wall above her, ringing out hollow echoes. He held on to the wall as she held onto him.

Elodie balanced on her knees as she started to pump him, shallow and exploring at first—finding a pace while building momentum—then strong and persistent.

She wanted him to feel good. Wanted him to break under her hands, but most of all, she wanted to make more of his seed appear because it made her feel powerful. Feminine. Desired.

Heat sparked between her legs. Her core tied in knots. Essence leaked from her pussy to slick over her folds and run down her inner thighs. She wanted it to be his cum that made her wet. Wanted so badly for it to be his saliva.

The sound of rough, almost painful panting filled her ears as more of his seed beaded from his tip. Gunner’s hips rocked forward, driving her into the wall and she had to scramble and maneuver to balance between each rocking thrust, the space between them closing a little more each time.

His cock hit her nose, then it nudged her cheek, and a wet trail replaced the heavy one left by the muzzle of the gun he still held. And when she licked her lips this time, the taste of him, the real him, covered her tongue.

Elodie parted her mouth and took him in when his cock pistoned forward again. His piercing clanked against her teeth before she jerked forward and it went deeper to run over the roof of her mouth. Sputtering, he pressed onward to take her throat.

She heard him snarl her name.

“Gunner,” she choked over his cock. It stretched her mouth to its limits.

His hand grasped the back of her neck and locked her onto him. His thick tip at the edge of her throat, swallowing and half-gagging around it. Elodie clutched at his exposed length and squeezed, lifting her eyes to find him staring down at her.

He released her abruptly and jerked out from her mouth with one last rough pump. Before she could close her lips Gunner dragged her out into the middle of the room. With her mouth suddenly empty, she reached up to knead the aching joints of her jaw.

Gunner towered above her like a crazed god, nostrils wide and flaring, wearing an insane grin that was offset by eyes so intense it made her heart race.

“Gunner,” she said, lowering her hand, concerned. Just as she was about to rise, he dropped to his knees and shoved her down onto her back, his face disappearing between her legs—thrust apart by his hands.

Elodie braced herself for his tongue, his lips, maybe his hands, but nothing touched her but his heavy, hot breath. It cascaded over her aching flesh. She already yearned for him, clenching in need, and his breath only fanned the flames.

She rose up onto her elbows and found him with his eyes closed, breathing her in. Her thighs shook—the position not entirely comfortable—and her hips buckled as he re-positioned her legs, sending her sprawling back onto the floor.

“What’re you doing?” she squeaked as another plume of hot air fell over her pussy. “Stop smelling and breathing on me!” She squirmed in his grip and sat back up.

“Can’t,” he groaned and another blast of breath hit her. His hands dropped from her legs and an arm came up to band over her pelvis, holding her down. Elodie relaxed her legs into him, her heels back on the floor.

“Look at me,” she urged, watching as his mouth contorted somewhere between a man’s and a beast’s, the sharp points of several inhuman teeth visible.

His eyes refused to meet hers. “You’re so aroused for me.”

The sentiment confused her. “Who else?”

“All mine,” he said as another heavy breath burned her. “This is all for me. Your pretty pink pussy on display, for me. You have no idea how long I have waited for this.”

She pursed her lips. He wasn’t making any sense.

But then he touched her. The ache of her core unraveled with a shriek. She expected the warm touch of prying fingers but what touched her was cold and blunt and hard, with no give whatsoever.

Elodie dropped her head back to the floor as every fiber of her body tensed. It was the gun between her thighs, rubbing her essence over her quim. Gunner was trying to scare her away, warn her off, make her fight him, but instead she wrenched her eyes shut and willingly succumbed. She wanted to feel him, take him inside her, and if she didn’t watch the weapon, she could pretend, again, it was an extension of him.

It is him.

And she wanted it. Would beg for it. A horrible, tantalizing rush had her bucking again, making his hold on her strengthen.

Gunner dipped the muzzle of his gun up and down the length of her pussy, through her folds. The rounded, hard edges slipping with more ease each time it stopped at her entrance, spreading her wetness over every inch.

Elodie wasn’t afraid. She was as high as a battle flyer on adrenaline-laced stress. Her clawing hands grabbed hold of his wet hair, fingers tangling within, and pulled.

“Christening my favorite toy.” His voice was gruff as he probed her core with the barrel. “Your smell is intoxicating. Feast worthy.” It gained an inch inside of her—quaking and rough. “Kissing my AutoMag and covering it with luck.” Her nails dug into his skull as his words undid her and she arched what little she could into him. “The safety is on, sweetheart, so show me how much you like my gun.”

A heavy wave of heat and shadow loomed over her, darkening her eyelids, and she opened them to see Gunner rising up to shield her body with his twitching, massive form.

His elbow thumped down next to her ear. The gun pressed deeper. She clenched around it when it was fully seated. Elodie untangled her fingers and ran her nails down the back of his neck to grip his shoulders.

With his face hovering above hers and her legs now hooked around his chest, the gun twisted and she winced. He pushed it deeper into her until the edge of the trigger was rammed and rimming at her entrance.

She was trapped beneath him, but his eyes pinned her better than his heavy body ever would, and she watched, mesmerized, as tiny lines of code ran across his irises. She lifted up as he thrust the weapon in and out of her.

Elodie rose to catch his lips but he pulled back out of her reach.

“It’s inside you. Fucking you.” To emphasize his point, Gunner drew it out and shoved it straight back into her, jerking her entire body forward and up.

“I know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She loosed a shocked squeal as he thrust the gun inside her again. Ely wanted his lips but he kept them out of reach as the momentum crested dangerously.

“You like this?” Snarl and shove. “My gun inside you?” Flickering eyes and straining muscles. “It doesn’t get tired.” He leaned into her and nipped her ear. “It only gets used.”

“I like you,” she gasped as he spun the gun, suddenly, right against the sweet spot that ignited her need and caused her to jerk completely off the floor to cling to him. Needing the heat of his skin over every inch of hers.

Gunner fucked her hard. They moved in frenzied, mismatched unison, their skin slicking across the ground and plastering together. They were covered in sweat and blood and the smell of their sex was thick in the air. It suffocated her.

Gasping sounds arose from her throat in a fight against his dominion. Because she knew that was what this was. A biting need for control over another. Bodies thrusting with primitive intent, dark and freeing at the same time. His hand continued to shove and press between her legs as his teeth grazed along her neck and back over her ear.

“You fucking like this, don’t you?”

Her head thumped back into the floor until his hand reached under to cushion it. Shove, stretch, and retreat.

“I like you,” she quickly agreed.

Stretch, spin, retreat.

The frenzy grew, the need for release sucking all the strain out of her limbs as the tension bloomed, her climax teetering right on the precipice. More. Elodie needed more—everything he was willing to give her.

“Even if I fuck you with every weapon in my arsenal?”

Thrust, probe, vibrate. So close.

“Yes!” she shouted, rising up to finally capture his open mouth to stop him from talking. The moment their lips touched, the gun clattered to the floor. Her moan was lost as he pushed her head back down into his open hand with his mouth, pressing her to the floor. Her kiss became his.

Fingers replaced the quivering, empty space between her legs, softer but no less forceful and frightening. They scissored her tight channel roughly as if there was too much to take over and conquer. The pads of his fingertips were brutal and soon two fingers became three to rub her G-spot in chaotic unison. But whenever she was about to explode, he would stop, and bring her back down, coaxing out a wild animal that had been locked inside of her.

Elodie fought for it in his brutal blistering heat.

Gunner imprisoned her mouth, his tongue claiming and tasting, ravaging every corner. Half crushed under him, drowning, and yet he kept her release right out of reach. She battled for it. Writhed for it. But each time she approached the brink, he pulled her back from the edge. It was infuriating.

His long, demanding fingers devastated her cunt and milked it until she bit his lip and attacked him back. Every moment sparked with pleasurable pain.

Elodie sank her teeth into him. “Please!”

His thumb abruptly pressed down onto her throbbing clit. Her breath hitched, and he brought her close again. She begged for more, hoping he would give her more. She released his lip and he rose up to catch her eyes as his fingers sped up.

They flared brilliantly red when a scream tore from her throat. Finally!

She climaxed hard and unhindered, shuddering and lifeless. Gunner lifted over her.

Elodie lost her grip on him and she pressed her hands to her face. Her nerves flared and died and flared again as her own pulsations cascaded from her pussy and poured through her being. Her entire body squirmed from the impact.

“So fucking good. Your good luck kiss... so fucking good.”

She barely heard him as her body continued to convulse intensely, then release to tense again. Her hips rose up and then back down, chasing the tendrils of her orgasm.

Gunner’s warm hand abruptly clutched her cunt and continued to prolong her bliss until her movements receded into a twitch, draining out the previous shock; every part of her was over sensitized.

A delicious breeze coasted over her heated skin where they had previously been plastered together. He rocked his hand between her legs, the pressure possessive, and she pried her eyes open to him peering possessively down at her.

Elodie shoved at his hand. “No more,” she whimpered but he continued on palming her clit, ignoring her, as his fingers toyed with her G-spot. And when she thought she couldn’t take any more she came again.

The tension between her legs released and she sank back to the ground, sprawling out over the floor, her limbs dropping bonelessly at her sides. Gunner pulled his hand away and stood over her drained body, sporting a wicked grin.

“Ready?”

“Ready for what?” she asked, uneasy, sated, and exhausted.

“For me?”