Breathing Vapor (19 page)

He thrust once, twice more and became still, his chest heaving against hers, his balls empty. A strange peace fell over him, a calmness he only felt with her.

Vapor brushed his lips over hers again and again, murmuring comforting words. He told her of the planet they would find, the home they would build, the beings they’d free.

His female would want that—to continue the duty her mother had passed to her, to liberate the suppressed. They’d start with the cyborgs, showing his brethren the way to the Homeland, using Vapor’s skills in battles and Mira’s talent for strategy.

They’d be a team. He cuddled her close to him.

Outside their storage chamber, the ship hummed with excitement.

Ace and Thrasher argued. Thrasher teased Ace about being uptight. Ace dryly commented that at least he used his processors once in a while.

Strive strutted around the decks, boasting about how many kills he’d made this planet rotation. Grin and Raw accompanied their friend, ensuring that none of their brethren thumped humility into him.

Other cyborgs discussed their futures.

They could make plans. They were free. The battles they fought would be of their own choosing. They answered to no one.

Vapor gazed at his female. Almost no one. His heart answered to hers.

“I love you, Mira.” He lowered her to her feet.

She swayed, holding onto him for support. “I love you too.” Her lips quirked upward. “And I’ve marked you as mine.” She touched his chest. Her scratches were already fading. “As you marked me that planet rotation K017282 was adopted.”

Adopted. Vapor covered her hands with his. She’d supported adoption for another offspring-less couple. Could that be an option for them? “I plan to continue to mark you. No one would ever doubt you’re mine.”

“Good.” She smiled at him. “Seal that intention with a kiss, cyborg.” She tilted her lips upward.

That was one command he was happy to follow.

Epilogue

Mira had spent forty-one wonderful planet rotations on board the ship, her time divided between loving Vapor and getting to know his brethren.

She’d also learned how to be. Since her mom’s death, she’d hidden her true self. Acting naturally was no longer that—natural.

It was becoming easier to speak freely, to openly express her emotions, but she still lied, often about trivial things. And, from time to time, she slipped back into her Mira the Merciless role, especially when she was stressed.

As she was now.

The ship had been hailed by representatives from the cyborg council. Mira stomped through the hallway, Vapor following her closely. If she stayed with her warrior, he’d be denied entrance to his planet, his Homeland.

She should let him go.

She didn’t want to. For the first time in her lifespan, she wanted to be selfish and bind him to her by any means possible.

But she loved him, wanted the best for him always, and that meant parting ways from him, allowing him to be with his brethren, his friends.

“Tell them you’re leaving me on a nearby planet.” Her chest strained against the front of her pale blue flight suit. Strive had found the garment for her, mentioned that it matched her eyes. That observation had earned him a punch in the shoulder from her overprotective male. “I won’t be responsible for you being blocked from your Homeland.”

“
You’re
my Homeland, obstinate female.” Vapor lifted her off the ground. She shrieked, surprised, her feet flaying. “I have you.” He slung her over his shoulder. “And I’m keeping you.”

“You’ll miss your friends,” she mumbled against his body armor. “I don’t want to hurt you that way.”

“Do you miss the other humans? Did I hurt you by taking you away from them?” His stride was fast and smooth.

“You freed me, allowing me to be happy.” And she was happy with him, happier than she could ever remember being. “But that’s different. They were never my friends.”

“My friends have a ship. They can visit us.” Vapor placed one of his palms on her ass. “We’ll see them again.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He cuffed her curves. “We won’t be spending much time on any planet we choose to inhabit. Not while cyborgs remain under the control of the Humanoid Alliance.”

“I’m helping you free them.” She wasn’t a warrior but she had other skills.

“We’re counting on that help.” They were a team, Vapor had told her a few planet rotations ago. “Your knowledge of the Humanoid Alliance’s strengths and weaknesses is invaluable. And few beings can match your cunning. You betrayed the humans for solar cycles and they never once suspected you.”

“I’m a great liar.” She beamed.

“You’re the best liar.” He said that like it was a good thing.

Silence stretched. He walked toward the bridge, carrying her.

“Some of the cyborgs will be freed from planets besieged by war.” Vapor’s voice grew gruff with emotion. “There could be humanoid offspring on these planets. They might not have parents to care for them.”

Mira lifted her head. “That’s possible.”

What was he suggesting? It couldn’t be what she thought, hoped, dreamed. Her heart beat faster. They hadn’t discussed offspring since they left Tau Ceti. She’d accepted that she might never be a mother, had concentrated on the two of them, on helping all cyborgs escape.

Vapor set her feet on the floor. He slipped his right hand into one of his holsters, scooped out some cloth, and pressed it into her palms.

Mira smoothed the fabric and her breath hitched. It was a doll, constructed of scrap material, formed with binding. The face was crudely drawn, the eyes lopsided, the smile uneven.

Her rough tough warrior had crafted this toy. He was talking about offspring. Hope unfurled in Mira’s chest.

“What is this?” She had to be certain she wasn’t misunderstanding his meaning.

“It’s an Ulu.” Vapor shifted his weight from his right foot to his left. He looked down at the doll, not meeting her gaze. “We’ll give it to the offspring.”

“To
the
offspring?”

“To
our
offspring.”  He touched the doll’s garment. His fingers shook. Her normally confident cyborg was nervous. That’s how much this conversation meant to him. “It will relay our thoughts.”

Mira stared at him, remembering another Ulu, another child. “And what will we tell it to say?”

“Ulu,” Vapor addressed the doll. “You will tell our offspring that we love her, that she has a domicile with us, that we’ll always care for and protect her.”

A lump formed in Mira’s throat. “Her?”

“Or him.” Vapor’s lips curled upward, his grin adorably boyish. “I have no preference.”

He wanted to adopt children, had made this doll for them, constructing it in secret with his own hands, a visible symbol of his hidden wish—to be a dad.

He’d be a great father, capable of making any child feel safe, loved.

Mira turned the bundle of cloth in her hands, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You want this.”

“I want this with you.” Vapor rubbed her bare arms, his palms warm against her skin.

“And if we conceive offspring?” She couldn’t adopt a child and then give him or her back. That would break her heart. “What would we do then?”

“We can’t conceive offspring.”

“
If
we did conceive,” she pushed. “What would happen to the offspring we adopted?”

Vapor frowned, his forehead furrowing. “
If
we conceive, and that’s an unlikely if, the offspring we adopt will have more siblings. They’ll manage. I have four hundred and ninety-three brethren. That didn’t damage me.”

Mira’s eyes widened. “We can’t adopt four hundred and ninety-three offspring.”

“Not at first.” His head dipped. “I’ll craft more Ulus.” He took the doll from her and placed it carefully back in his holster.

“You’ll craft more Ulus.” She trembled with excitement, with love. “For the offspring we’ll adopt.”

He nodded.

“Oh Vapor. I love you so much.” Mira threw herself into his arms.

Vapor caught her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, kissed him with all of the passion in her heart.

He responded as enthusiastically, pushing her against the wall and driving into her mouth with deep, hungry strokes, his tongue sliding over hers again and again. A growl rolled up his form, the rumble felt down to her boot-clad toes.

She’d have a home, offspring, this wonderful male, love and belonging. Mira sucked on his tongue, drawing him deeper into her mouth, savoring the metallic taste of him.

Bubbles popped and fizzed over her tongue and teeth. Vapor’s nanocybotics covered her entire body. The two, three, sometimes four sex sessions every planet rotation ensured they spread, thrived, part of him always remaining inside her.

Mira brushed her thumbs up and down his cheeks, relishing the warmth of his skin. He grazed his teeth over her bottom lip and she quivered, the tinge of pain escalating her arousal. She wanted him, couldn’t remember why she couldn’t have him right here, right now.

He must have forgotten also. Vapor licked her tender flesh, flicking his tongue over her lips, teasing her, his eyes as dark as open space.

A throat cleared behind them.

Vapor’s jaw clenched. “Give us a moment.”

“Take all of the moments you need.” Thrasher sounded cheery. “We’re waiting for the two of you to arrive before answering the hail. That delay might jeopardize our relationship with the cyborg council but the aggravation you’re causing Ace is well worth that risk.” He looked over Vapor’s shoulder and meet Mira’s gaze. His eyes twinkled. “Judging by the look on his face when he sent me to find you, his circuits are close to shorting out.”

“There was no need for Ace to send you anywhere,” Vapor muttered. “I received his messages, all twelve of them.”

“He gave me this to relay to you.” Thrasher waved a nutrition bar.

Mira shouldn’t be hungry. She’d already eaten three times her usual consumption this planet rotation. But she was. She eyed the bar. “I don’t need it. I’m okay.”

Vapor sighed. “My female is lying. She’s hungry.” He turned and walked with her, heading back to their chambers. “Give the bar to her.”

Thrasher complied. Mira unwrapped the bar, took a big bite and moaned with joy. He was right. She was famished.

“The ship’s bridge is in the other direction.” Thrasher trailed them.

“There’s no need for us to be present. We know how the conversation will progress. They’ll deny Mira access to the Homeland.” Vapor smacked her ass and she jerked, the sweet abuse exciting her. “And we’ll find another planet to settle upon.”

“Will there be other females living on this planet?” Thrasher’s eyes lit up. “Will they require males?”

Mira popped the rest of the bar into her mouth and chewed. He was interested in females? She swallowed. She’d assumed Thrasher and Ace were a couple.

“Will there be females, Mira?” Vapor rubbed her fabric-covered curves.

She thought about the planets surrounding them. “If the planet has an ecosystem favorable for sustaining life, it’s likely to already be inhabited. Some of the beings could be female. They might require males.”

“You’ll introduce us to the other females.” Thrasher nodded, appearing pleased with this possibility. “I don’t require an exclusive claim on one. I could share a female.”

“Could you?” Mira stared at him, having not considered this possibility.

“You’re not sharing mine.” Vapor splayed his fingers over her back.

“I’m not interested in your female, not in that way.” Red streaked across Thrasher’s cheekbones. “She smells like you.”

“Any female you share will smell like the other male.” Her cyborg gave no indication that he knew the truth behind his friends’ love-hate relationship.

“I don’t mind the scent of some males,” Thrasher said under his breath.

“Two males sharing the same female is considered normal on Oberon Major.” Mira remembered that from her studies at the Academy.

“I’m not sharing you.” Vapor’s pace increased.

“I don’t want to be shared.” She petted his battle armor-clad chest, seeking to pacify her possessive male. “You’re the best. Why would I require any other being?”

“You’re mine, Mira.” He slowed. “Mine alone.”

“I’m yours.” She kissed his chin. “Perhaps not yours alone. Soon we’ll have a family, offspring to care for and to love, and they will receive a piece of me. But you’ll always be my core.” She gazed up at him, allowing him to see how much she loved him, baring herself to him emotionally.

Vapor’s lips curled upward.

Thrasher stopped walking. “I’ll tell Ace to answer the hail. If the way you’re looking at each other is any indication, you won’t be surfacing again this planet rotation.”

“Debrief me later.” Vapor strode with Mira into their chamber, not looking back.

“Much later, I hope.” She stroked his neck.

“Much, much later.” He carried her to their sleeping support and set her down. “I have the mother of our future offspring to pleasure.” He stripped off his body armor, revealing his tanned skin, firm muscle, hard cock.

“Will you consider them to be your offspring?” Mira kicked off her boots. “They won’t be cyborgs.” She unfastened her flight suit, shimmying out of the garment.

“You’re not a cyborg either.” He lowered himself over her, bracing his body upward with one arm. “Yet I would die for you.” His eyes gleamed with a heartfelt sincerity she couldn’t deny. “Our offspring will be exactly that—ours. They might not look like us but they’ll have your bravery and ingenuity and caring.”

She touched his face. “They’ll have your courage and honesty and protectiveness.”

“They’ll be ours.” Vapor looked deep into her eyes as he entered her. Her eyelashes fluttered, the fullness without equal. They fit perfectly, her pussy clinging to his shaft.

He moved slowly. She tilted her hips to ease the sensual slide, taking him until there was no more of him to take.

They gazed at each other. No words were necessary. Mira felt his love, the connection flowing between them, the endless circle of emotion building, building, building.

She adored this male, could tell him everything, her truths and her lies, not worrying if she’d be judged, seen as weak, taken advantage of. He’d protect her, physically and emotionally, and soon, he’d protect their offspring.

Vapor rocked, his loving slow and gentle, controlled. They’d fucked like wild creatures when they woke, burning the savage edge off their passion.

This encounter was a whispered promise, a vow of endless caring. She gripped his shoulders, moving with him. Her passion escalated stroke by stroke, a teasing ripple of arousal rather than a thought-clearing tidal wave.

The leisurely pace accentuated every touch, every breath, every speck of gold and green in his dark eyes. She felt the veins on his shaft, the firmness of his base, the sway of his balls.