LyonsPrice (4 page)

She bit her lower lip, trying to keep her moans and whimpers
inside. She’d never been a quiet lover; even now with a chance they would get
caught. Perhaps even more so with the added thrill of being taken in a nearly
public place by a man like this, conspiring to tip her over the edge.

Her pussy clenched around his cock, gripping the hard shaft
as pleasure built inside her. She needed more, urging him on with small rolls
of her hips and the rake of her nails down his back. He shuddered as she scored
him, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Inside her, his cock jerked in reaction to her sensual
torture. Growling in the back of his throat, he looped her leg over his arm,
just one, and drove into her with renewed ferocity. Off balance, she grabbed
his shoulders, mashing her breasts against the solid planes of his chest. Her
hands and his cock impaling her were the only things that helped her keep her
balance.

His eyes closing, he slammed into her, hips pounding against
hers. The rhythm wasn’t as smooth or as slick. Like a runaway train, just
slightly out of control, as though
he’d
lost control. He opened his eyes
to look down at her, surprise in their depths.

His gaze latched on to her lips and he swooped in to claim
them again. Without preamble, he drove his tongue into her mouth in the same
hard rhythm he was using to fuck her, swallowing her moan as the tension in her
frame neared breaking point again.

What was it about this guy? She’d already come once, hard.
Yet now she was on the verge of another explosive orgasm, as though she hadn’t
come in weeks. Her whimpers were lost in his mouth as her cunt clenched around
his cock.

He thrust into her again and she was lost. The pressure
broke, overflowing like champagne over the top of a glass. Pleasure fizzled and
bubbled through her veins as she clamped down on his cock. Her body milked his,
and she rode his thick shaft for all she was worth.

He pushed into her one last time, and then stiffened.
Tearing his mouth away from hers, he groaned. Deep inside her body, his cock
jerked and pulsed and he spilled white-hot seed in her depths.

Chapter Three

“Are you sure this is the right ship?”

Cael looked over her shoulder from the copilot’s seat at the
demand. Her slender fingers moved over the controls in front of her in an
elaborate dance as she brought the cloaked shuttle into the best alignment for
a concealed boarding of the vessel above them.

A cancer-class cyborg, she didn’t have to look at the screen
in front of her to know the docking clamps were almost in place. Her dual
onboard comps were linked to the shuttle’s computer system, so what the sensors
saw, she saw too.

The docking tube clamped into place, the sound echoing both
in cyberspace and through the deck beneath her feet as she rose from her seat
and made her way back toward Archon. One of the Geminis onboard, he was more
arrogant than his quieter brother, Eoin.

“Am I or am I not…” She walked her fingers up his broad slab
of a chest. “This section’s Cancer class?”

“Yeah, we know that. Your point?”

Archon didn’t bother to stop her touching him. He’d hinted
more than once he’d have her in the sack in a hot second. Cael knew he’d be
good. He was a Gemini, there was no way he wouldn’t be good. Designed as
infiltration units, G-classes had seduction coded into their genes before they
reached the maturation tanks.

She didn’t look at the silent brother cleaning his rifle
just feet away, but she knew he was there. Sure, she wanted Archon, but not
without his brother. Considering it was a cyborg woman who’d broken Eoin’s
heart and given him the three vicious scars across his face and the heavy limp,
it would be a cold day in hell before she’d manage to become the meat in this
Gemini sandwich.

“She means you’re dumb and she knows what she’s doing,
dickweed. Now shut the fuck up so we can get this done, get Lyon off this tin can
and get home.” Eoin’s voice was a growl as he surged into movement, giving Cael
a wide berth as he headed for the boarding hatch. “And if you two wanna fuck,
then get a room already.”

The two looked after him in shock as Eoin boosted himself up
into the tube, putting himself perilously close to the cutting arc of the
boarder. Sparks flew and dropped down around his legs and booted feet. Cael
tried not to stare at the brace on his left leg. No one in the section looked
at it directly. They were all uncomfortable that one of their number might be
less than physically perfect.

Archon looked back at her, his sinfully full lips quirking.
“So what about it, gorgeous? Want to grab a room after this and do the
horizontal tango for a night?”

Cael punched his arm in answer. Even female and a Cancer, a
class known more for its computing power than brute strength, she was heavily
enhanced. Archon rocked back on his heels as he absorbed the power of her blow.
He gasped and held his hands over his heart. “Lady, you wound me.”

“Get a derma-bandage.” She threw the words over her shoulder
as she followed Eoin into the boarding tube.

* * * * *

The boarding was fast and furious. As soon as the cutter was
done, the three cyborgs dropped into the corridor below, rifles at the ready.
The
Valkyrie
was an exploration and fast-response vessel. Cael’s
interrogation of the Fleet databases had revealed that there was a marine
detachment stationed on board, so there was going to be a certain amount of
resistance.

Sure enough, within seconds of them breaching the ship’s
hull, the marines were on them. Ignoring the laser bolts whizzing past her
head, Cael slid behind Eoin’s bulk, dropped her rifle to the deck and yanked an
access panel off the wall. She didn’t have time to search for an unsecured
access point, so it would have to be brute force.

Peering into the mass of cables under the panel, she picked
out the data cable. Knife in hand, she stripped the protective casing back,
ignoring the electrical shock that tingled over her skin. All cyborgs were
protected against electrical shock and EM pulse, but none more than Cancers,
who were designed to deal with power and data systems.

“Gotcha.”

The knife cut the plastic sheath easily. Below it, the
tritanium-copper alloy of the data cable winked back at her. Without
hesitation, Cael reached in and grabbed it. The metallic access points buried
in the palm of her hand like a spider’s web sparked into life and then she was
into the system.

“Bypassing firewalls. Shit, they’ve got the TM-twenty-seven,”
she announced to the two men providing covering fire. To all intents and
purposes, the battle for the ship was taking place in the corridor as the two
forces, cyborg and Fleet, exchanged fire. The reality was far different. The
battle was in cyberspace, between Cael and the ship’s defense computer.

Eoin flicked a glance over his shoulder. The first time he’d
looked at her fully in a long time, since before his accident. “You can do it,
babe. I know you can.”

Surprised by the support as well as the warmth and interest
in his eyes as he flicked his gaze over her still form, Cael just lay there for
a moment. Snapping herself out of it, she rerouted all available processing
power to cracking the
Valkyrie
’s defense net. For long moments her body
grew heavy and she even allowed her breathing to stop as she disappeared into
cyberspace.

With a crack, the net broke. Whooping in triumph, Cael
surged into the computer to take command. Straight away she shut down all the
alarms, locked out command access with a mutating algorithm and created an
all-access wireless link so she could maintain control even when she let go of
the cable.

Opening her eyes, she looked up at the ceiling. “Marine
weapons shutdown in three…two…now!”

“That was…amazing.”

Even to Samara, her voice sounded shaky. It should do, she’d
just had the most amazing sex in her life. She wrapped her arms around Lyon
with tenderness. He was still breathing heavily, his body buried deeply in
hers. It was more than the sex, she admitted, stroking his back as she waited
for him to calm down. He was a cyborg, the supposed scourge of the galaxy, yet
he was trembling in her arms.

He grunted in answer and pressed a kiss into the curve of
her neck. Leaning her cheek against him, she allowed her eyes to close and let
it all fall away. It didn’t matter that she was naked in a cell with a guy
she’d only met a couple of days ago. It didn’t matter he was a prisoner.

All that mattered was he was holding her, his big body
wrapped around her protectively. An orphan of the Heral system war, she was
used to being on her own. The feeling of being held and protected was an almost
forgotten, and very seductive, one.

“Awww. Isn’t this nice?”

She jumped at the sound of a voice from the corridor. They’d
been discovered. Expecting marines to pour into the cell at any moment and tear
him away, she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck. She didn’t want this to
be over. It couldn’t be over. Not yet.

Lyon shifted position slightly, keeping the bulk of his body
between her and the open front of the cell, his face still buried in the curve
of her neck.

“Archon. Do me a favor and fuck off.”

A wholly masculine chuckle was the reply. “Seems like you’re
doing enough of that for the both of us. Want me to leave you two lovebirds to
it? I mean, it’s only your own goddamn rescue. Nothing important.”

“I swear to God, I’m going to wring that fucking Gemini’s
neck.”

“You
know
him?” The instant the words slipped from
her mouth, Samara wanted to kick herself. Of course Lyon knew him. How else
would he know his name?

“Aye. Rescue party. And they’re late. Archon, turn your
back.” Lyon’s voice was hard as he looked back over his shoulder.

“Awww, Lyon, man. You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

“Now.”

She jumped at the snapped command. Beyond the broad
shoulders which were cutting off her view of the rest of the cell came the
sound of boots on the deck and Archon grumbling. Something about never getting
to see any action. Samara couldn’t help it, he sounded so much like a sulky
teenager that she giggled. Granted it had a note of hysteria, but it was still
mostly a sound of amusement.

Lyon slipped out of her, then let her down gently, holding
her as her feet touched the floor. She scrambled for her discarded clothing as
he pulled his ship-suit into place again. Heat flared over her cheeks as she
shoved her arms and legs into the suit, then yanked the zipper up with a sharp
movement. He’d taken her while still mostly clothed.

Sliding her feet into her slip-ons, she finally met his
eyes. Like a patient cat, he simply watched, green eyes impassive over the
small tattoo on his cheek. Rescue party. He was leaving. Disappointment crashed
over her like the waves on a beach. Was she just a quick tumble, a bit of fun
while he had a spare five minutes?

The other man stepped into the cell. Like Lyon, he had a
tattoo on his cheek, but unlike Lyon, he had a more slender build, with
shoulder-length blond hair and looks that would raise the pulse of any
red-blooded woman. Apart from Samara…she didn’t feel a thing when she looked at
him.

“Boss man, you done with the chick? Because we have a bit of
time and if she’s hot—”

Lyon was snarling as he turned. Violence in every line of
his body, he grabbed the other cyborg by the throat and propelled him into the
wall behind. “No one touches her but me. Understand?”

Archon gasped for breath as Lyon’s hand clamped around his
throat. His heels thudded against the metal bulkhead of the cell. Samara gasped
and stepped forward without thinking to lay her hand on Lyon’s arm.

“Understand?” Lyon snarled into Archon’s face. His whole
body was rigid with tension and fury as he tightened his grip. Archon’s face
started to go blue.

“He can’t speak. Let him go. Lyon, please?”

The soft request broke through the red haze of fury.
Abruptly Lyon released his hold, letting Archon drop to his knees, coughing and
spluttering. All cyborgs were hardy, but none of them could stand up to a Leo
for long. The best they could do was hope to outrun the heavier class and stay
out of range. Even that was an achievement. Big as they were, Leos were
fast
.

“Nanites’ balls, man. I got it. You only needed to say it
once, not break my neck to prove it,” Archon gasped as soon as he was able to
speak. Rubbing at his neck ruefully, he looked up and smiled as he looked
Samara over, an instinctive male reaction to a beautiful woman.

Lyon snarled again. He knew what Archon saw. Samara’s dark
hair cascaded over her shoulders and her curvy frame filled the ship-suit in a
way that would whet any man’s appetite. Particularly a randy Gemini’s. He stepped
between Archon and Samara, pushing her behind him.

“Whoa. She’s pretty. That’s all. Not touching, I swear!”
Archon protested at Lyon’s challenging look. Why he was reacting this way over
a quick shag, he didn’t know, but one thing was for sure…there was no way
Archon or any cyborg was laying a hand on her. Not while he had breath in his
body.

Archon glanced around, looking at anything other than the
woman who was peeking around Lyon’s shoulder. His gaze landed on the cuffs
abandoned on the narrow bunk and he grinned. “Pretty and persuadable, it
seems.”

“No. Just not familiar with mag-cuffs.”

Lyon turned to Samara, swept a quick eye over her appearance
and then sighed. She looked like a woman who’d been thoroughly loved. With
brisk efficient movements, he zipped her suit up as far as he could to conceal
her cleavage. He didn’t want Eoin or Archon drooling over her or he’d have to
break some bones.

“Put your hair back up,” he ordered her in a soft tone. Her
eyes were wide and dark with apprehension and the tension that hummed through
her body was wary now. Not a problem, he’d soon sort that out in his quarters
tonight.