Captured by the Cyborg by Cara Bristol Page A

he said, but his amused expression turned serious, and he trailed a fingertip from her temple to her jaw. “And beautiful.”
    Her wings had been beautiful, eliciting compliments from envious Faria. Shimmering and translucent, they had appeared as delicate as gossamer but had been as strong as tree limbs swaying in the wind. How fast she’d flown! After they’d been cut from her body, the stumps had shriveled and curled to unsightly lumps. She’d never considered herself vain but she hated for him to see the ugliness.
    Her expression must have revealed something of her thoughts because his eyes darkened. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to.”
    The other time had occurred under the cover of darkness. The lights were low now but bright enough to reveal her injury. What if the scars repulsed him? If they proceeded to make love, how would that affect the future? Would this be the start of something—or the end?
    Confidence wobbled, and she didn’t like it.
    She disliked the fearful, hesitant person she’d become. She’d fled from evil; she would not run from good. She wanted him; she needed this. If she ran, it would be toward Dale, not away from him.
    Begin as you mean to go on. “I want to.” She spread her hands over his hard chest. His heart thumped, and his scent rose to tease her senses, the merest whiff coaxing her closer.
    He stroked his knuckles along her cheek, catching threads of her hair, sending a shiver along her nerves. Her hair had always been sensitive, but never so much as with him. Only he affected her like this, the slightest touch kindling hot tingles and deep yearning. She’d never imagined herself with an alien, part man/part machine, but, here and now, she’d couldn’t envision being with anyone but him. My cyborg.
    He brushed his mouth over her lips in a light caress. She clutched his shirt and deepened the kiss, needing more. He gave it to her with a growl. His erection twitched against her. Slow caresses turned fervent. Between kissing and groping, clothing, his and hers, joined the heap on the floor.
    He was more powerful naked than clothed. His legs were long and stout, not weak like hers. Corded muscles bulged in his arms. Dark curly hair matted his massive chest, arrowing down a ripped abdomen to a nest around the base of his thick erection. Her core fluttered.
    “Are you checking me out?” he asked.
    She lifted her gaze. “I did promise to ignore the room.”
    “Let me show you the bed at least.” He pointed. “Bed.”
    “Noted,” she replied, smiling.
    They stretched out side by side, face-to-face. Mouths fused and tongues mated in a sexual fury, but his hands were gentle as he roamed them over her body, finding and igniting hotspots. He fondled her throat, her breasts, her tummy, between her legs, the backs of her knees. Every touch deepened the hunger for that final completion.
    From scalp to tip, he combed his fingers through her hair, and she shook with need for him.
    “Are you cold?”
    “No.” She grasped his cock, stroking its length. Body hair teased her nipples as she scooted down to take him in her mouth, to tease him until he shuddered the way she did. She sucked and laved his erection, swiping her tongue across the head, drawing him as deep as she could then pulling back with a long, slow drag.
    “ Jesus, Buddha, Lao-Tzu!” He growled some foreign words she had no translation for. But the meaning was as clear as the ache in her center, as the urgency that spiked when he threaded his fingers in her hair. Heady, mind-spinning pleasure climbed to a crescendo.
    He pulled her on top of him.
    She wrestled away.
    Confusion knit his face.
    Illumina stretched out onto her back. Pain jabbed at her spine, but she ignored it and reached for him.
    Bewilderment cleared from his expression, but he held back. “What about your…injury?”
    “It will be fine.” The pressure against scarred nubby bone felt like jagged rocks, but she wanted him on top, craved his