Seth: Futuristic Spy Romance (Cyborgs: More Than Machines) by Eve Langlais Page B

campaign of yours to get under my skin?”
    “If we have sex, I will do anything you want.”
    “Including doing what I say when we reach the mother ship?”
    “Sure.” And he meant it, for the moment. As an intelligence model, he possessed the prerogative to change his mind as conditions changed or new intel was gathered.
    “This doesn’t mean our marriage is back on,” she warned as he leaned down to seal the deal with a kiss.
    “So it’s all right if I pretend I’m cheating on my wife with someone else’s wife?” he murmured against her lips.
    “If it turns you on.”
    Everything about her turned him on, especially the challenge she still posed. Yes, she might have conceded the war when it came to lust, but the battle for her heart still required waging.
    But now , how to proceed?
    He still stood in all his naked glory. She still sat, partially dressed , perusing him with an amused tilt of her lips and a challenge in her eyes.
    I can’t screw this up. Which meant he needed to make this about her. Simple enough.
    He dropped to his knees, a supplicant to the woman who owned him heart, body , and metal.
    She regarded him from under eyelids grown heavy, a sure sign of arousal. “I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he admitted, skimming his hands up her thighs, the skin as smooth as he recalled, the hitch of her breath still just as a tantalizing , even after all this time.
    He bent his head to trace his lips along the same path his hand took, lightly brushing her skin, inhaling the scent of her. Her legs parted before his subtle caresses, an unspoken permission that he could proceed.
    And he would. At his own sweet pace.
    He blew hot air against the seam of her shorts, loving how she couldn’t control the impatient wiggle of her bottom or the musky scent of her arousal as her sweet honey pooled.
    Placing his mouth upon the thin fabric, he blew again, warm moist air , which caused her to gasp and grab at his hair.
    “Stop teasing,” she moaned.
    “But teasing is what I do best.” But how could he have forgotten that, in that respect, she always beat him? Down skimmed her hand, over the tautness of her belly to the waistband of her bottoms. In slipped her questing fingers, and no matter how many parts the military replaced, no matter how much of his body his BCI controlled, it never could stem his desire for this woman or the fact that a simple act such as her touching herself could still make him drool.
    Watching the subtle motion of her hand under the fabric was more than he could bear. With brute strength, he grasped the fabric of her shorts and tore, shredding the flimsy barrier and allowing him a perfect view of her pussy. As if he hadn’t just found visual heaven, he also got to see what naughtiness her fingers were up to.
    B eneath his avid gaze, she spread her slick folds, pink temping flesh that he longed to taste. She slid in one digit then two, pumping slowly, in and out, an erotic tease and reminder of what his cock would soon enjoy. The scent of her musky arousal enveloped him, a decadent perfume never replicated by any other, one whose delightful scent had the ability to make him tremble—and his cock to engorge even more painfully than before. He could have shut off some of his receptors to prolong the moment, to help him through the suffering, but he chose to feel every nuance of the seduction. For so long, he’d existed in a vacuum, playing the part of a human so well that his cyborg brethren often wanted to beat him to a pulp. But, in truth, until this very moment, until Anastasia re-entered his life, he’d but pretended at life, pretended at humanity. Now, with his body afire, his nerves singing, all his senses open and experiencing, he felt … alive.
    As a third finger joined the first two, Seth couldn’t help but groan. When it came to titillation, he was but a pupil to his mistress, his wife. As if his inadvertent sound were a signal, Anastasia withdrew her fingers out of her wet sex