the comfort he gave her. He held her even after the lift had stopped. He finally pulled away.

“We will finish this in my quarters. Someone will call the lift at some point and I do not want to be still in it, holding each other.”

She smiled, relaxing at the humorous situation and the horror in his voice at the thought of just that. She took his offered hand and he led her back to his small room and opened the door. Once inside she asked, “Do you have a mirror?”

“No. Why do you want one?”

“I want to see what these look like. The markings, brandings, tattoos— whatever you want to call them.”

Flint didn’t hesitate to remove his shirt and drop it on the floor, smiling. “They look like this.” His fingers brushed the marks on his shoulder. “Only on your white skin and you have some red marks that will fade in days.”

Laughing, she shook her head at him. “Very funny.”

“You calm when you laugh and I want you calm. I feel…” he paused.

“You feel what?”

He hesitated. “Protective. I never had a desire to own a woman before, Mira. When I met you and you took my hand I didn’t want to release it. You smiled at me and you made me laugh. Humans who first see us always react in three ways. They are terrified that we exist still, they are disgusted by us, or they are confused about what we are. You are the first to be glad to see us alive.”

“I am glad you’re alive. I hated reading about what was done to your people. Earth has a longstanding history of doing messed-up things to people—like slavery and killing off indigenous people to take their land. People have been killed over religious differences, and for the differences in their skin colors. You would think they would learn but history just repeats itself. They killed your people and it was wrong.

Humans created cyborgs , which makes us the same in my mind.”

“Remove your shirt.” Flint stepped closer to her. “I want you, Mira.”

Chapter Six

Mira stripped while watching Flint remove his boots and the rest of his clothing. She went to crawl onto his bed but he stopped her by gripping her wrist. He turned her so they faced each other.

“You can’t rub your branded skin for at least an hour.” He released her wrist and clasped her h*ps instead. “Grip my arms.”

She reached up to curl her fingers around his muscular biceps. He lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his hips. Flint walked forward and braced the side of his shoulder against a thick support column.

He hesitated a second before he went for her mouth with his.

She met his hungry kiss. He shared enough passion with her to send her body into flames. She’d always thought cyborgs would be walking computers and she was glad she had been so wrong. Flint was a man who just happened to have inner, hidden electronics.

His large hands gripped her ass, cupping her, pulling her tighter against his hips. She was wet and he was hard. His c**k rubbed against her clit, his h*ps slowly moving so the tip and shaft caressed the length of her slit, teasing her. Moisture soaked them both where Mira showed her need for him the most. She moaned into his mouth, wiggling against him, and broke the kiss. She panted. An almost painful ache to have Flint f**k her gripped her.

“I want you now. Please?”

His eyes locked with hers as he shifted her hips. He was so hard he just needed to move her h*ps over him to fit them together. He lowered her down his body. Mira wrapped her arms around his neck, gripping the back of it with her hands. To her, the sensation of Flint filling her, stretching her and breaching her deeper was amazing as their bodies locked together, bringing a cry of pleasure from her lips. He was amazingly thick.

“Heaven,” Flint rasped. “If there is such a place, you are it, Mira. You feel like home when I’m inside you. You’re warmth, acceptance, just right. So pleasurable, and perfect.”

His words turned her on more. He wasn’t only handsome and sexy but he was a romantic, it seemed.

She bucked her hips. “Nothing has ever felt better than this, Flint. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.”

He moved then, withdrawing a little to slam upward, driving into her depths in a sharp motion. The sensation of