Even if they had nothing to do with him.
Alexa wasn’t allowed to have secrets anymore.
I took her fucking virginity.
Hysterian pushed off the door and stormed to his bed with its rumpled bedding. It was wetter than it should be. Wet from perspiration. He knew he ran hot—all Cyborgs did—because of the hardware and metal within him. It was why, even when he was in a cold environment, he never fully found relief from the poison in his veins.
He scanned the blankets.
The bedding wasn’t just merely wet, it was soaked. He turned the lights on and searched for what might have poisoned her—if he even had. He cursed, rubbed his jaw.
He’d been so careful. The suit was the same quality other Cyborgs shifted in. It molded to his frame, expanded and contracted, and kept his skin temperate. He had many uniforms in nanocloth, but nothing that fully sealed him off. He was lucky the textile shop on Libra had any extra cloth at all.
There wasn’t much time for him to help her, especially if she’d gotten some of his toxin on her skin.
If he’d been a normal fucking dart frog, a simple antidote would help, as it had for Raul. But he was a cybernetic war machine with intelligent toxins.
A little could kill many…if he configured his toxins to change in potency. Luckily, that didn’t happen unless he concentrated. If he’d poisoned Alexa, it would be the same thing he’d given Raul.
It was the last toxin he had his systems create.
‘I shouldn’t want a monster like you.’He recalled her tears, the way her voice slipped when she had said it. The way she’d hit him, and he let her because he knew deep down, she’d needed to hit him. He’d thought she was struggling with unfounded guilt about what was between them…
He saw a spot of blood on the bedding, and his jaw tensed. Yanking down the suit from his head, he grabbed the blanket, brought it up to his mouth, and licked the blood.No poison. There was nothing but salt and sweat, and Alexa’s arousal.
The taste bloomed.
She tasted better than she smelled. So sweet it was wrong. No man or Cyborg would be able to resist it. He’d never tasted something so delicious. He’d told her the truth when he had his face between her thighs—he’d kill everyone on Libra just for one fucking lick of her.
It never occurred to him that Alexa could be a virgin. He wasn’t worthy to be the ground she walked upon, or the air she breathed. He’d never wanted anything to do with virgins, but now that he had been given the honor—Hysterian rubbed his mouth—his fantasies shifted.
I tried to be gentle…
He was a fucking monster, no doubt about that.
Hysterian licked the bedding once more, needing another taste of her. He wanted to remember it, even after tonight. He wanted the memory front and center in his hard drives so he could enjoy them whenever he wanted. His hand wrapped around his cock.
She didn’t want gentle.He palmed himself, hating the covering gripping him, listening to Alexa move in his bathroom.
Even her blood smells sweet.He paused, tasting it once more. Human blood isn’t sweet.
Is she sick?
Hysterian seeded into his ship and programmed the cleaning bots to come in and take care of the bed. He threw the sheets against the wall with his clothes. Within moments, bots entered his room and cleaned up the mess.
He strode to the bathroom when the shower turned on, intent to join her and demand answers. Because now that he thought about it, she had perspired a great deal, and she hadn’t even been that warm… He had tried to warm her up when he had her naked beneath him.
She has to be sick.
Concern punched him in the gut. His hands fisted. He stormed out of his room and made his way to the gym’s shower. He stripped out of the suit and tossed it aside, stepping into the water. It was freezing.
He washed quickly and was back inside his quarters a handful of minutes later.
Alexa was still in the shower.
He waited, his worry escalating.
He hadn’t been gentle enough. Hysterian paced. Alexa wasn’t some Elyrian whore who knew how to handle clientele and their unique needs. She was an average woman—for some devil’s unknown reason—who wanted to work for a glorified delivery service. Their paths wouldn’t have ever crossed otherwise.
