Incursion (9 page)

The door opened, and he kept his eyes closed for a while longer, indulging in the thought that he was normal again, and that Grimm wasn't Kshar and wouldn't kill him.

Maybe I should let him do it, too.

Grimm was completely naked. Breathtakingly so.

If it only were true. Any of this.

Grimm paused in the middle of the room and turned the tattooed side of his face to Kyle. "All yours if you want it."

I do.
Kyle waved him over. "This is going to be really boring for you."

"I doubt it," Grimm said and moved closer to the bed. He was getting hard, and Kyle itched to touch him, revel in another's arousal that he himself couldn't express anymore.

Grimm smiled at him and got on the bed, one knee on the mattress, hands left and right of Kyle's head. His face came closer, then so close it blurred. The kiss hit him like an acceleration jolt. Despite their first kiss on the ship, it felt like forever since anybody had touched his lips like that. At all. It raced over Kyle's skin, sank deeper and rushed along his veins like a living creature. Unreal. Was that a Glyrinny thing? Kyle groaned and laced his fingers behind Grimm's neck, re-focusing on his plan.

Grimm didn't shake him off, seemed unaware of the danger he was in, that Kyle could wrench his skull from his spine. Kyle considered it, wondered if he still had the core strength to kill a man like that, or whether he should just put him into a headlock and knock him out. One was a kill, the other a capture. But damn him, that kiss felt nice, that powerful body hovering over his fired up his arousal. Even though his dick wasn't connected, his heart and mind were, and the touch brought him alive with possibilities. He released Grimm's neck, clutched his shoulders instead, cursing himself for the softness, the hesitation.

Such a pity you can't kill the only man who's kissed you since you became a cripple.

Grimm chuckled into the kiss and placed a broad hand against Kyle's throat, the glint of a threat in his eye. Kyle's breath hitched, and arousal uncoiled deep in his guts.

"Oh, I see why you're so into
warriors
, Kyle," Grimm whispered against his lips. "Conqueror and priest in one, isn't it?"

"Fuck you," Kyle whispered back.

Grimm hooked a thumb into Kyle's jaw joint, as if he would bite him otherwise. The thought that biting would hurt them both flicked across Kyle's brain and it was less like an awkward deal they'd struck and more like Grimm pushing him, leaving him no other way, no other option.

Somehow, this made it all even hotter, as if having a huge powerful warrior in his bed—or something that mimicked one perfectly—wasn't enough. Kyle opened his lips wider, tilted his head, and kissed Grimm with more teeth than tongue, threatening, pulling him down. This was about the feel of Grimm's cheek between his teeth, of Grimm pushing him back to thrust his tongue into him. Primal, no tenderness, and, thank all forces and powers out there, without pity.

Grimm rolled on top, his impressive dick brushing Kyle's belly. Kyle reached between them and curled his hand around it, offering friction and something to fuck that didn't involve getting oily and bored.

Grimm hissed and smiled at him again, then dipped lower and kissed Kyle's throat, eliciting a groan. The sucking kisses and bites felt like nothing Kyle remembered; deprivation made it all more intense, and he'd never been much for foreplay, not with random hookups.

He managed to ignore that his throat was bared to the teeth of a morph. What type of killer was Kshar? Did orgasm matter to morphs? Would he strike now, in five minutes, or after?

Fool, you could have acted before he did. You still can.

Teeth traced his collarbone, tongue dipped into the hollow above, and if he'd been anything like the old Kyle, he'd have brought his legs up around Grimm's hips and pushed him onto his back. He didn't bottom—rubbing against each other or a handjob worked. Many guys he'd taken had wanted him to fuck them. Something about his size. But Grimm was a similar size, if not larger. Scrawny little Kshar had definitely beefed up for this role.

Grimm leaned over and kissed the side of his neck, and Kyle arched again. Seemed he was totally neck-focused now that his dick was out of the equation. "Shit."

"Let go, Kyle. I know you can. You're on the border. Let go."

"Fuck." Kyle groaned. "I can't do anything with it."

"You don't have to." Grimm latched onto his nipple, and Kyle would have jumped if he could have. Part of him panicked and wanted to run.

You've wanted to run for a long time, you plodding half-golem.

"Want me to go slower?"

"Fuck your pity," Kyle growled and pushed Grimm's face against his chest.

"What would you do?" Grimm asked, then licked the hard nub between his teeth.

"If I could?"

"Yes." Grimm glanced up at him, dark eyes taunting him.

"Push you down and make you blow me."

Grimm pursed his lips. "Why so violent, Kyle? Does it make you feel powerful?"

Kyle grimaced and was about to curse at Grimm, when the bastard grabbed him hard and pulled him over, rolling him in a full-body motion on top of Grimm. The prosthetics had to be digging into his flesh, but Grimm didn't seem to notice.

With his fine muscle control lacking, this was awkward; he had to reach down to adjust the position of his legs. Grimm was rock hard underneath him, and Kyle swallowed at seeing that expanse of flesh, ready and willing.

Clever bastard. Making a show of trust.

Grimm's heart thundered, his chest expanding with every breath. Kyle dipped low to kiss him, everything changed now because he was on top. Suddenly Grimm seemed precious, as if he owned him, and one looked after one's things, right?

"I'm not getting you."

Grimm opened his legs and lifted his knees. "Easy enough. We'll fuck. We'll both enjoy it."

Damn, what Kyle wouldn't have done to get fully hard—his body was trying, he wasn't quite flaccid—but the signals reaching his dick were too scattered. Push into Grimm, fuck him slow and sweet, or pound him into submission. No use.

He was about to push away and curse Grimm for mocking him when Grimm closed his legs around him, locking him in, their groins pressed together, and Kyle fell down onto his elbows, felt Grimm's dick rub against his belly, the movements from Grimm's hips and belly undulating, demanding. And even though he could do little else but resist and push down on him with what control he had left, that look on Grimm's face was unspeakably sexy.

Kyle could almost fool himself, believing he was inside him, giving that pleasure, or their dicks were rubbing together. He lowered himself further—and felt everything else. The sheen of sweat building up, how their skin color matched, this crazy, powerful embrace of two bodies from the same mold. If not for Kshar, they'd be perfectly matched. Kyle closed his eyes and imagined that was what this was. The arousal built up pressure in his body, but there was no way to release it.

"That's good. Let go."

Exasperated, Kyle chuckled. "Humping like dogs, that's the plan?"

Suddenly, Grimm broke their embrace, turning Kyle over onto his belly.

That's it, he's going to do it now.

Maybe death was the only way to get rid of this charge in his body. Oddly, he wasn't afraid of it, no longer breathlessly awaiting the morph's endgame. This felt too good, and fighting it seemed pointless. It might be a good way to go.

"You fool," Grimm said affectionately, and knelt between his legs. "I'd take the metal off, but you'd freak out, right?"

"You'd be fucking dead meat."

"Damn annoying, talkative meat."

Kyle couldn't help laughing. He hated to admit it, but he liked Kshar. Grimm. Either. Both. Did it matter? Hardly. The man would kill him and take his place.

Grimm laughed with him. "I'm attempting some sexual healing here. Try to be more into it."

"Fat chance." Kyle looked over his shoulder, and
Mother of Light
, Grimm kneeling between his lifeless legs with that giant erection was both sexy and unsettling. "Uh.
Fat
chance," he repeated with a meaningful glance at the huge dick pointing at him. Maybe it was a good thing that he barely felt anything down there. But he was into it, as much as he could be.

He closed his eyes and relaxed, aware that Grimm was doing something down there. Why not give him what he wanted?

Then Grimm covered his body again, shoulders to knees. Kyle felt pressure. No pain. His nerves were too messed up for pain, so he felt it like an insistent push that didn't really concern him. No pleasure, either. Yet that full-body contact was nice, enveloping him in heat and strength where he could feel, and his skin was electric with the closeness of another man. Grimm's fingers slid between his and he squeezed while he worked his way into him. He'd take this part like a man, godsdamnit.

When the pleasure hit, he almost jumped out of his skin. "What—"

Grimm kissed his ear. "Yes." A push from Grimm's hips did that again. "Dead meat, eh, Kyle?"

No. He was on fire. Full. Horny as fuck, and this felt absolutely amazing. He groaned, not sure if Grimm would understand what he meant.
Do it again. This feels amazing. This
feels
.

Grimm rubbed his face against Kyle's shoulder blades. "You gotta take me. Every inch. No other choice."

"I don't want . . ."
a choice
. Fuck if that didn't set the remaining neurons in his body alight. Accepting because he couldn't change a thing. Because Grimm would make him take it, because Grimm had hacked his crippled, stupid body and found the one hidden reservoir of pleasure.

Mother of Light,
those Glyrinny were clever.

"I know," Grimm murmured. "And you can have it all. I'll give it to you."

Shut up.

Kyle dug his fingers into the mattress, every movement of Grimm on top of him—inside him—sparking that bone-sizzling pleasure. He remembered that part of the fun well, that building need, the pressure to come, and giving in completely to sensation. But this was better than anything he remembered. He'd never felt anything like it.

"Yes," he agreed. On principle. Generally. To anything. Not that anything mattered, not under the onslaught of that sensation.

Grimm moved, every thrust precisely stoking his pleasure. A terribly incapacitating thing, pleasure. He knew better. He'd been a hunter. He'd never have allowed this, first the gradual tearing down of his control, and then how Grimm stomped right through his barricades, but it felt so good. Grimm had won, had conquered him, wrenching the pleasure from him, giving him something he'd had no clue he could have.

And he did it without gloating.

Much.

The buildup was agonizing, the sensation keeping him on edge for too long. He wanted to jerk off, but that wasn't possible anymore, so all he could do was let the feeling burn and consume him, cell by cell, pleasure bleeding from where Grimm touched him to the rest of his body. And, skillfully, Grimm fanned that flame, fucked him harsh and fast, until there was no other way out but to explode, the sensation impossible and heartbreaking. He came, which felt weird like this, orgasmed but didn't ejaculate, as if other parts of his body were doing it now, deeper, more intense, bone-wracking.

He collapsed on the mattress, bathed in sweat. This wasn't supposed to be possible. It defied everything he'd thought his body was capable of—or incapable of.

If he wants to kill me now, that's fine.

Grimm snorted and kissed his shoulder. "I'm going to pull out now."

"Fine. Do whatever you want."

Did he just ruffle my hair?
Kyle couldn't summon any outrage.

Grimm chuckled and dropped down next to him, looking way more awake than he should be, eyes sparkling. "I'd say this means you won't arrest me."

Kyle turned his head fully and stared at him. "Arrest you?"

Grimm arched an eyebrow. "Or were you assuming I was going to break your neck during sex?"

Okay, the game was up. Kyle cursed. "Listen—"

"You're too competent for a petty criminal. Fighter pilot with first-class training. You need money. You're a hunter, Kyle. You even have a reason to hate Glyrinny."

"Nobody needs a fucking reason to hate morphs." Kyle struggled to get up, but Grimm slammed a fist against his bridge module with so much strength it rattled every bone in his body. Fuck, that hurt. He lay there gasping, tears springing to his eyes.

Grimm stood, his movement oddly
liquid
. Or it was a trick of the light? "No, I'm not going to kill you. I know what they say, that we eat human brains to take memories. That's not how it works."

The pain began to ebb. Kyle struggled to get his feet underneath him and stand up. His body, still weak with pleasure, resisted. Fuck, he was slow, clumsy, now more than ever. He couldn't win an unarmed face-off, and he'd let the opportunity pass. For one of the best fucks of his life, but still. "You did kill Grimm."

Grimm smiled. "He wasn't a very nice man, Kyle. I'd say I'm an improvement."

"Fuck." He fought the urge to either attack Grimm or cover himself, but both impulses were completely pathetic and way too late. "Kshar."

Grimm—he still didn't see the damn morph in Grimm's features, even if he'd never met the real Grimm—crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Tell me how you pretending to be what you aren't is any different from what I did."

"I didn't kill a man for it. And I'm not a fucking double agent."

Grimm smiled somewhat wanly. "I've never been 'double.' Doesn't matter now. Try to stop me, and this will get rather scary for you."

A weapon. Anything. Only that his clothes and the duffel were on the other side of the bed. He couldn't really fight. Naked man facing off a naked alien. Great. "Just give me what you stole."

Grimm shook his head. "You know, I felt guilty, Kyle. For your back. It was me who gave that disruptor technology to your species. Then somebody used it on you."

"Why?"

"Glyrinny weapons are meant to punish—not permanently damage. If somebody hit me with it, my body would regenerate, but in the meantime, I'd have ample opportunity to think about how the violence could have been avoided."