I’ll be sharing the first chapter from Defying Death over the next few weeks.
Read the first scene here: http://tasteofcyn.com/2016/04/20/first-scene-from-defying-death/
Here is the next scene
His visits to the ship were enough. For now. He ran his hands over his shaft, yanking on his skin harder and harder, abusing his form, punishing himself for his need.
A bead of pre-cum formed on his tip. He swept one of his thumbs across it, spreading his essence over his cock. His balls hugged his base, the pressure building, building, building.
Skin smacked against skin, the sound echoing in the small space. He envisioned Tifara writhing beneath him, sweat glistening on her pale skin, her nipples tight. Would they be as pink as her lips? He wanted to lick her, taste the salt of her skin, the sweet femininity of her.
Frag. He grunted, drawn into his fantasy, wanting to make it into reality. How could he wait to breed with her, to claim her? She smelled so good, was so lush, and the thought of the kindness, the caring in her expression when she looked at her friends, how she would soon look at him, stripped his restraint.
Death braced his booted feet apart and worked his cock with more vigor, rocking his hips into his palms, the muscles over his lower abs rippling, his thighs flexed, as hard as his frame. His fit physique shook, the tremors escalating. He fought the battle with himself, delaying coming as long as he could.
But he was weak, so very weak. Her scent was too exquisite, filling his lungs, curling around his soul. He imagined his medic’s capable fingers on his balls, squeezing and—
He roared, his release catching him by surprise, and he pushed forward. Cum arched from his cock, splattered on the tiled floor. He came and came and came, purging all of his need, all of his passion. A puddle of spunk formed before him. The scent of breeding mixed with his female’s fragrance.
When there was nothing left, when he’d given everything he had, he sagged against the wall, his legs trembling, the tension within him temporarily alleviated.
Death swiped a cleaning cloth over his tip, removing the remnants of his pleasure. The fabric sucked up the cum, rearranging the molecules into air. He snapped the cleaning cloth to refresh it, returned it to the horizontal support where he had found it.
The floor was a mess. He placed his palms on a control panel and interfaced with the ship. Small doors opened in the walls. Cleaning bots exited, whirled around him, removing all proof that he’d found release in Safyre’s ship.
Crash would damage any male who left his scent in the human female’s personal space. Or he’d attempt to damage him. Death pressed his lips together. The E model couldn’t best him in a fight.
Death donned his body armor, skimmed his hands over his weapons, ensuring all of his guns remained in their holsters, all of his daggers were in their sheaths. His restraints were missing. He’d used those to repair the seats in the ship, a small payment for his use of the space and a thank you to Crash’s female for, unbeknownst to her, bringing Tifara into his realm of awareness.
Death leaned toward the scarf, took one more deep breath, inhaling Tifara’s scent, and straightened. He was needed in the holding chamber. Crash wouldn’t start the meeting without him.
He moved soundlessly down the ship’s ramp.
His stealth was in vain.
Menace had returned. The warrior stood at the bottom, arms crossed, eyes glimmering with humor. “If I hadn’t heard it, I wouldn’t have believed it. You’re a sick bag of bolts, Death.”
The male knew he’d found release in the ship. Death maintained his grim expression, not allowing any of his embarrassment to show. “You’ll say nothing.”
Menace’s smile faded. “That doesn’t have to be communicated, my friend. If it weren’t for you, I would have died solar cycles ago. You have my full loyalty.”
Death knew that but he took no chances with the safety of his female. No being could know how he felt about her.
“Crash is waiting for you.” The other J Model’s head twitched in the direction of the holding chamber. “I didn’t tell them where you were or what you were doing.”
Death grunted a thank you and moved through the freighter’s docking bay, entered the hallways, accelerating, the space empty. He acted as a conduit between Crash and the J models. They wouldn’t relay information without his presence.
The holding chamber was crowded with J and K model cyborgs. The warriors shifted to the side as he entered, allowing him to take his place at the far wall with Crash and his human female, Safyre. The images of two K model cyborgs Death hadn’t yet met were projected onto a side wall.
What was the cause of your delay? Crash inquired through their transmission lines, excluding his female from the conversation. Did you sense a threat?
The E model’s grip on his lush female was tight. Concern reflected in his flat black eyes.
I sense no threats. Death chose not to answer the first question.
“What the fuck is going on, Crash?” Safyre gazed up at her warrior’s gray face, worry lines etched around her mouth. “And don’t tell me nothing ‘cause I feel the tension in you.” The female had orange hair, the color suiting her volatile temperament.
Death preferred the more subtle streaks of red in Tifara’s long brown tendrils. His fingertips twitched. He wanted to sink his hands into those unruly curls.
Desire rose within him once more.
Crash narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on.”
Fraggin’ hole. The warrior sensed his arousal.
Death mentally inventoried his weapons, counting the daggers and guns strapped to his body, distracting his human-like brain and his machine-like processors from thoughts of his female.
There’s no threat? Crash asked again.
There’s no threat. Death held his gaze.
The warrior hesitated for a moment and then nodded, his shoulders lowering. “It is nothing, my female.” Crash hugged his Safyre to him.
Death would never put a precious female at risk with such an open display of affection. Touching should be done in the privacy of personal chambers.
“I’m seeing threats where there are none.” Crash kissed her forehead.
Safyre’s eyes softened. “It’s best to be careful.”
Crash nodded. “Let’s relay this information.” He turned toward the crowd, the fingers of his left hand linked with the fingers of his female’s right hand.
Death stood at their side.
Alone.
Read the next scene (available May 4th) here: http://tasteofcyn.com/2016/05/04/third-scene-from-defying-death/
Subscribe To My Release Day Newsletter: http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/05/28/newsletter/
Defying Death
He’ll risk it all for one moment of happiness.
Cyborgs don’t show emotion. Death learned that lesson early in his long lifespan. To survive, he hides his fierce passions behind a stoic wall. He calls no warrior friend. He never admits to caring for any being.
Even the human female he’s destined to love.
Tifara is Death’s obsession, his sole opportunity for happiness, to express the all-consuming passion burning brightly inside him. He’ll do anything to obtain the curvaceous medic: defy a direct order, abduct Tifara from her battle station, and wage war on his fellow cyborgs.
To earn her love, he’ll have to risk much, much more.
Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/Defying-Death-Cyborg-Sizzle-Book-ebook/dp/B01D6OUQS2/
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Defying-Death-Cyborg-Sizzle-Book-ebook/dp/B01D6OUQS2/
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-defyingdeath-2001671-147.html
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/defying-death-cynthia-sax/1123562659
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/defying-death-2
