Defying Death by Cynthia Sax Page B

did. She
mouthed his flat pecs, tasting minerals and salt. His feelings were
trapped inside him. They had to be released.
    And she was so empty. She branded his shaft with her
scent, her wetness. Death groaned, the low, deep sound exciting
her.
    He didn’t bring her closer, didn’t push her away,
allowing her to use his body. Tifara gazed at him though
sleep-fogged eyes, the surrealist nature of their encounters making
her brave. It wasn’t her grinding against her male, shamelessly
taking from him, pushing his restraint toward its snapping point.
It was the dream Tifara.
    Her breasts felt full, heavy, woefully unsupported,
unloved.
    She pulled on Death’s wrists.
    He was a cyborg, more powerful than any human male,
yet he followed her direction. She placed his palms on her curves.
He cupped, molded, squeezed her breasts, weighing them with his
fingers, and she murmured her approval, the pleasure exquisite.
    Tifara rocked into him, bouncing higher and higher,
the muscles in her thighs straining. It was good but not enough.
She needed him inside her.
    “Death.” Speaking made the encounter real,
dissipating some of its dreamlike quality. If he wasn’t as far gone
as she was, he could shutter his emotions, bury them deep inside
him once more.
    But he was as entranced as she was. “What do you
need, my Tifara?” Death’s eyes glowed, passion lighting their
depths.
    “You.” Her clit bumped against his tip and she
quivered. “Your cock in my pussy.” He didn’t move, his hands
remaining on her breasts. “Now.”
    Tifara blinked, her words surprising herself. She’d
never been so demanding with a lover, had never barked sex
instructions at a male.
    Her warrior showed no signs he took offense. His
lips quirked upward. He scooped his palms under her ass and lifted
her.
    She grasped his shaft, positioning him properly.
    Death lowered her onto him and Tifara sucked in her
breath. Although she’d had him many, many times, his size always
surprised her. He was big, bigger than any other male she’d had,
his broad cock head pressing against her inner walls, stretching
her pussy hole until pain mixed with the pleasure.
    “Tight.” Tifara dug her fingernails into his
arms.
    “You were made for me.” He wouldn’t allow her to
retreat, pushing deeper and deeper, owning her body with his big
cock. “You’re hot and wet, all mine.”
    The sensual slide continued, an intimate invasion
she never fully recovered from, every fucking strengthening their
connection. She tattooed his skin with pink crescent moons,
relaying some of her pain to him, seeking to change him as he was
changing her, rest cycle after rest cycle.
    Her intimate folds finally touched his base and his
advance stopped. She was full of thick shaft. Tifara leaned
forward, resting her forehead on his chest.
    Death stroked her back, rubbing his hands soothingly
over her hair and spine. “Cyborgs might not believe in destiny or
fate but this is where you are meant to be, where I am meant to be,
inside you, your heat around me. I would kill to keep this.”
    He would. She knew. He’d given up his brethren, his
home, his future, to be with her. “You don’t have to kill to keep
me. I’m yours,” she admitted.
    Death stiffened. “You’re awake.”
    He’d pull away from her now. She clenched down on
his shaft and gripped his shoulders. “I’ve always been awake.” She
met his gaze squarely. “And you’ve always known that.” He was an
intelligent being. “You don’t have to conceal any part of you while
you’re with me.”
    “I can’t,” he admitted. “I’ve tried but I’m
weak—”
    “Our connection is strong,” she corrected.
    “I put you at risk.”
    His concern for her safety pulled at her heart.
“Then you’ll have to protect me.”
    Pain flashed in his eyes. “I’ve failed others.”
    He was thinking of the Erinomean girl. “You didn’t
stay by her side. Do you plan to leave me unprotected?”
    He shook his head, his