Cyborg Nation by Kaitlyn O'Connor (english readers TXT) 📗

echoed her groan with a deeper one, shuddering, thrusting faster. As if they were racing, fighting to see who could reach the pinnacle first, Bronte dug her nails into his shoulders and lifted faster. Gideon fought for breath, fought the tremors wracking him all over and drove into her in short, deep strokes. A sharp cry left her as she abruptly reached climax. Shuddering, gasping to catch her breath, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut as the waves of bliss wracked her. Uttering a long, growling groan that was part relief part ecstasy, Gideon grunted and shook as his body pumped his seed deeply inside of her.

Bronte’s arms and legs dropped weakly to the bed as the last of the tension left her. Gideon dragged a long, shuddering breath into his lungs that nearly caved her chest in and then rolled off of her, trapping one of her arms beneath his shoulders. She was too blissful to care at first, too sated, too weak. As her fingers began to tingle and sting from lack of circulation, however, she roused herself enough to start tugging at her arm to dislodge it. Uttering a sound that sounded a lot like a complaint, he grunted and heaved and finally managed to roll onto his side and off of her arm so she could reclaim it. As soon as she snatched it to her, he rolled onto his back again and went perfectly still.

Mildly irritated, Bronte groped around for something to cover herself with as her body slowly cooled and a shiver skated through her. Coming up empty handed, she lay still for a few moments, trying to decide whether she wanted something to cover herself with badly enough to actually sit up and hunt it. The pleasure and heat of passion had completely deserted her, however, and finally, still feeling sluggish, she pushed herself upright and looked around.

Gideon, she discovered when she glanced at him, was sound asleep, a half-smile curling his lips.

She had no idea why that satisfied smile instantly brought an upsurge of anger and made her long for the nerve to clobber him but it did. Narrowing her eyes, she studied his face, fighting the urge and finally mastered it. A sticky residue between her thighs caught her attention as she eased toward the end of the bunk. When she’d reached the foot of the bed, she parted her legs and stared down at it—mostly with surprise, until it slowly sank in that it was semen—not her own bodily fluids, but a mixture of hers and his.

Semen!

No pleasure bot she’d ever heard of produced semen. Their cocks were self-lubricating, but it was lubrication, not semen! This was definitely semen.

She whirled to look at him with mounting outrage, battling a sense of absolute disbelief. He was feeling around the bed blindly, she saw, either searching for her or for the covers bunched at the foot of the bed. She didn’t know or care which. Shoving herself to her feet, she stalked toward the bathroom, snatching her uniform up off the floor on the way.

By the time she’d bathed, she’d managed to slough off the last of her surprise and confusion and work herself up into a real rage. She had been defenseless with the surprise attack and he’d taken full advantage of that moment and his prowess as a pleasure bot to inundate her senses with so much pleasure that she’d had no sense at all inside of five seconds! He’d known she didn’t want anything to do with him, the sneaking, low down, conniving …. Cyborg! That was why it was a sneak attack! Premeditation! He’d just been waiting to catch her off guard so he could fuck her senseless and then just … ignore her when he got done with her like she was another machine, instead of a human being who had every right to expect at least a ‘thank you ma’am, nice hole’ and a pat on the head when a man was done with her!

And what had he done? Rolled over and gone to sleep with that self-satisfied smirk on his face that still made her want to clobber him!

She halted to glare at him in seething resentment when she left the bathroom. As she raked him with contempt, however, her eyes settled on her book, wedged between his knee and the wall. She was going to have that damned book!

Stalking over to the bed, she leaned over to snatch it. Just as her fingers closed around the cylinder, she felt his hands close around her. Uttering a growl of outrage as she was flipped over him to land on the bed on her back again, she glared at him ferociously as she landed. “Don’t even think about it, buster!” she snarled.

The look of intent on Gideon’s face vanished abruptly. Confusion and then anger flickered across his features. “Who the hell is Buster?” he growled.

Having gained her release with surprising ease, Bronte had already sat up, grabbed her book, and scooted toward the end of the bed when he asked that question. It caught her off guard, jerking her gaze toward his.

“I am Gideon,” he emphasized as she met his angry gaze. “Who is Buster?”

Bronte looked away quickly before the urge to smile could get the best of her. She cleared her throat. “Oh, sorry. That was the last jerk that fucked me,” she said sarcastically as she climbed off the bed with her book and stalked toward the door.

“We will get your eyes fixed when we get home,” he said tightly as she reached the door.

She shrugged, but she didn’t look back. “I had my eyes closed … but if you think that will help clear up the confusion....”

Hah! Take that, asshole! She thought as she left the cabin. Let’s see how you feel about being used as a convenient pole and then tossed aside like an empty cock wrapper!

Discovering that Jerico and Gabriel were watching her with almost identical expressions of hopeful expectancy,