Page 43 of Her Cyborg Beast

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Chapter Thirteen

CJ

I rubbed my face over the soft pillow and took a deep breath. Rezzer. It smelled like my mate, and I snuggled down in complete bliss. My eyes popped open when I heard a ringing. At first, I thought the sound was my cell phone, but the tone was different. Rolling over, I opened my eyes and blinked at the now familiar lines in the ceiling of our private quarters. The room had started out utilitarian. Useful, but not comfy. Not warm.

I’d been adding little touches since moving in. A soft, fuzzy green blanket and matching pillows on the couch. Lamps with antique looking shades on two new end tables so we didn’t have to sit in the stark, standard, bright white lighting provided by the Fleet. I’d even asked Rachel to help me with the S-Gen machine and magically made cinnamon cookie scented candles—which we had to override the computer safety protocols to burn—and a large, red-leafed plant the strange alien in charge of their gardens had recommended when I told him about my black thumb. I had to hope it was kill-proof. Our place wasn’t exactly going to win any awards for interior decorating, but at least it felt like a home now and not a barracks. A real home. Ours.

And soon we’d be moving to a bigger suite, one with another room. A room I couldn’t wait to decorate for the baby. I smiled to myself at the thought.

The ringing sounded again, and I groaned. Moving too quickly, I was swamped by dizziness and nausea. Lying back down, I took a deep breath and fought not to panic as my brain kicked in. I hated being sick. No, I wasn’t sick, I was pregnant now. With an alien baby.

Maybe I’d have to get used to not moving quite so fast…

Seemed that if the Coalition scientists could eliminate the need for cell phones, and implanted everyone with an elaborate NPU, Neural-Processing-Unit—the fancy gadget imbedded in my skull that acted like a universal translator—they could figure out a way to get rid of morning sickness. I’d have to talk to Kristin and Rachel about it. They wouldn’t stand for throwing up if the doctor had a way to avoid it.

Every once in a while, my head still ached from the NPU. But I understood every language in existence. That was technologically cool, but being connected to an alien computer system that had matched me to my new mate was even more amazing. Rezz. My beast.

I missed him. We’d only been together a short time, but I found that I loved sleeping in his arms, loved waking up to his heated touch, loved that his beast liked to come out and play rough. I loved that he was big and virile and had no problem at all with a six-foot, smart-mouthed woman for a mate. He didn’t call me an Amazon. He had no idea what the term even meant. To him, I was small. The more I sassed, the more orgasms I seemed to get. The more I denied his dominance, the more he asserted it. In bed. Out of bed. Up against the wall. Naked. Dressed.

I squirmed beneath the sheets, wishing he were with me now. Maybe, just maybe I’d let him take control. Yeah, right. As if he’d have it any other way.

Really, the beast had zero limits and absolute, unbreakable control when he took me so skillfully, making me scream with pleasure.

He hadn’t figured out my diabolical, orgasm-producing scheme yet, or at least he pretended not to know what I was doing. Which was even better. I closed my eyes and smiled once more as the room stopped spinning. My pussy was a little sore—in a good way—and I was sticky there with his very potent seed. He was virile, and wild, and he’d worn me out. That, combined with the news that I was carrying a baby had been all I could handle once he left with the others on his mission. I felt bare without his cuffs on my wrists—I hadn’t realized how I’d become used to their heft, the cool feel of them until they were removed—but I knew he would come back to me.

For the first time in my life, I had absolutely no doubt that I was wanted. Needed. Loved. The feeling was both heady and addictive and probably why I’d fallen in love with my beast so hard and so fast. It was insane. I remembered the conversation with Warden Egara, how I’d insisted that I didn’t have to like my mate. No wonder she’d practically rolled her eyes at me. I’d been stupid. Naïve.

I know how true love feels. What it can be between mates.Her words stuck, and I would have to call her on the comms unit, tell her she was right.

I opened my eyes, blinked away the sleep. This room already felt like home. It was safe. Ours. Instead of going to eat with Rachel, I’d come back here and fallen asleep within minutes of his leaving.

I’d tried to stay awake waiting for Rezzer, but obviously that hadn’t happened. He hadn’t returned, since his side of the bed was still made, and cold. I longed for him, but I was thankful I wasn’t doubled over in pain from the separation. It had hurt that one time the mating cuffs had shocked me, and I had no interest in experiencing that again. But I also longed to put them back on. I’d adjusted to wearing them, and after seeing the intensity in Rezzer’s gaze when he refused to remove his, I learned their value.

They weren’t just bracelets. They were a sign, proof, of so much more. He wore my claim still, choosing to endure the pain from the cuffs rather than be separated from me even in that. It was humbling, and worrisome that I held so much influence over such a powerful being as an Atlan Warlord. Exhilarating and frightening and sobering.

Would the constant shocks from the cuffs distract him? Put him in danger? I shook off that thought, knowing Rezzer was a warlord. Skilled at fighting. He wouldn’t do anything stupid.

Yet the cuffs were also proof of just how vulnerable he was. His beast was strong. Terrifying to his enemies.

And lost without me.

I put my hand on my belly, thinking of the baby within. Our baby. I wanted Rezzer safe, here in bed with me. If something happened to him, well, he wasn’t the only one with an inner beast, and mine was going to rage.

A ringing came again.

“Hello?” I looked around the room, realized the sound was coming from a doorbell of some kind.

“Hello? Is someone there?” I padded across the room on bare feet, the wrinkled dress I’d been wearing all day embarrassing, but not the end of the world.

Ring. Ring.

Pushing my hair back from my face, I froze when a door opened without my permission, a piece of the wall sliding away and disappearing. A medical officer—I was now familiar with the green uniform—bowed to me. He wasn’t Prillon or Atlan. I recognized him. But from where?

“Lady Caroline. Congratulations on conceiving with your Atlan mate.”

“Thank you. We are very excited.” I offered him a small smile. “I know you, don’t I? Where are you from?” He wasn’t Atlan. Not tall enough. He wasn’t Prillon. Didn’t have the coloring or the sharp facial features. He didn’t move like Kiel, who I learned was from Everis. I wasn’t sure what other planets were represented on the Colony, but this guy’s origin was a new one for me.

“I am originally from a planet called Trion. And no, we have not formally been introduced.”


Tags: Grace Goodwin Interstellar Brides: The Colony Science Fiction