LOVE, HOPE, AND ELECTRICITY
Cynthia Sax
www.loose-id.com
Love, Hope, and Electricity Copyright © January 2012 by Cynthia Sax All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions. eISBN 978-1-61118-725-0 Editor: Ann M. Curtis Cover Artist: Marci Gass Printed in the United States of America Published by Loose Id LLC PO Box 809 San Francisco CA 94104-0809 www.loose-id.com This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
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Chapter One Death chased Hope through the labyrinth of dark alleys. She didn’t hear the assassin. He was as silent as a cat. She didn’t smell him either, as he had no scent. But she felt his proximity in the crackle of the air and in the snap of energy connecting them, two strangers linked by a shared destiny, a professional killer and his willing victim. A victim deserving of death. Hope pushed her guilt away and hurried along the city streets, the street lighting growing dimmer and dimmer as she moved deeper behind rebellion lines. She walked briskly, her arms swinging, the coarse fabric of her pants rubbing against the selfinflicted scalpel wound on her upper thigh, sending shards of pain along her leg. Her haste was for her killer’s safety, not hers. Her life was at its end, every step speeding her toward that grisly conclusion. She had to die. It was the only way. Raindrops rolled down her cheek, like the many teardrops she’d shed over the past three weeks. The acidity of the unnatural rain burned her skin, and Hope pulled her coat closer, its stark whiteness a beacon for the assassin. She glanced upward at the clouds permanently hanging over the city. They’d been there ever since she could remember, ever since she was born. She sighed, the tension pulling across her shoulders. That was one crime she wasn’t responsible for. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and tingles of awareness shimmered down her spine. The assassin, Chac, was gaining on her. She had mere minutes of life left.
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She’d thought she’d accept death peacefully, serenely, but she couldn’t. Panic welled up inside. She wasn’t ready to die, not yet. She needed more time. Hope ran down the deserted streets, splashing through puddles, the water seeping through her pants, the burn driving her forward faster. Her muscles strained, and perspiration dripped between her shoulder blades under the medical pack she’d strapped to her back. She breathed heavily, the sound obscenely loud in the night. She wanted to live. Oh God, of all the times to finally realize she wanted to live. Hope leaped over a pile of trash, wary of what lay within. She didn’t land. Electricity suddenly jolted her body, pushed her back, and threw her against a plasticcoated metal fence. The posts groaned with the impact, and the mesh swayed, but the barrier supported her weight. Hope gasped as her arms and legs were spread wide by an invisible force. She pulled at her hands and found she couldn’t move them. Her medical pack dug into her spine. Even her hair was pressed against the fence. He’d rendered her completely immobile. The scientist in her was impressed. The woman was terrified. She hung a foot above the pavement, restrained and at the mercy of a man without any. Breathe in. She counted to five. Breathe out. She could do this. She had the strength. A wave of energy rolled over her. It flicked her bootlaces. It caressed her calves, skimmed up her legs, fondled every inch of her. The electricity lingered over her pantcovered mons, diving past the fabric barrier to curl her private hair, pulling at the short strands, dipping into her wetness. Hope’s face heated, and her lips parted as her passion rose. That extension of him dragged along her stomach to cup her breasts, lifting, exploring, tweaking her nipples. She moaned. It had been so long since someone, anyone, had touched her like this, and this was not merely any man. This was Chac, the assassin she’d obsessed over for years, the face haunting her most erotic dreams.
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The current split into three entities, one running along each arm, the third stroking her face with the gentlest of touches, prodding at her lips, learning the curve of her cheek, wafting across her forehead. “Chac,” she whispered. What was he doing? She didn’t deserve his tenderness. A solid form separated from the shadows, the assassin’s stride loose and casual yet menacing all the same. He was taller than Hope had expected, her elevated face level with his, and his shoulders were broader, blocking the streetlight. A shimmering arc of blue energy passed from one big hand to the other, illuminating him, and she inhaled sharply. He was sinfully handsome, far better looking than her collection of hoarded images indicated. His short, spiky hair was pure white, his pale features were strong and defined, and his square jaw jutted. He was perfect, and Hope felt renewed confidence in her decision. There was no better way to die than having this beautiful, vengeful creature take her life. “This is a dangerous route for a walk, Doctor Keller.” His voice was the deep rumble of thunder, and she trembled with feminine appreciation. A long black leather coat swirled around his muscular physique. He was dressed in black from the tips of his army boots to the crew neck of his body-hugging T-shirt. Hope yearned to lean into his strength, borrow it for her own. She couldn’t, as the force pulsating from Chac didn’t allow for any movement. “You know who I am?” Did he know as much about her as she knew about him? She scanned his expressionless face, scientific curiosity and a less rational excitement crowding out her fear. “I do.” Chac nodded, his mouth flattened into a grim white line. Silver flashed in his electric blue eyes, shooting out from his pupils like tiny lightning bolts. “But do you know what I am?”
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He raised his hand, and Hope flinched, expecting pain and death. Instead, his finger hovered inches away from her cheek, static buzzing over her skin like the softest caress. She frowned, confused by his words and his actions and the feelings swirling inside her. He hadn’t killed his prey immediately. He was playing with her like a cat might play with a mouse, and that contradicted all her research. “You’re Chac. You—” “Not who I am.” He sliced into her response with bone-chilling abruptness. “What I am.” His tone was bitter. “I am model 953702.” Chac snapped his fingers, and Hope’s hair clip flew into his palm, her hair cascading down her back in a riot of curls. He crushed the offending accessory in his hand, and the discarded metal fragments clinked on the pavement. “I was designed for only one purpose, sweet Hope.” The cold-blooded assassin leaned forward and nuzzled her neck, the tip of his nose bumping against her right earlobe as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, his breath warm on her skin. Hope’s heart raced, and her fingers twitched. Her arms and legs remained pinned in place while the rest of her body was now free. “And that is to kill.” She relaxed into her restraints. His directive to kill was consistent with her findings. Chac, one of the Rebellion’s top assassins, hunted Agency scientists, eliminating their presence completely, with not a single brain cell left behind for regeneration. Tonight she counted on that thoroughness. “Then kill me quickly.” Hope lifted her chin, offering her fragile neck to him. With one squeeze of his deadly hands, her life would be over. The corners of his lips curled upward, and he slowly, seductively traced her jugular with his ethereal fingers, pleasure rippling out from his touch. Hope gritted her teeth and fought her feelings. She didn’t deserve joy. She deserved only pain. “That’s what you want me to do, isn’t it?” he purred, his lips inches away from hers. “To kill you quickly?” Chac tilted his head, examining her.
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No. Her soul screamed its defiance. “Yes.” Hope forced out the correct response. She met his gaze, temporarily losing her fear in his electric blue irises. Her death was the only logical solution. Chac’s humorless smile chilled her. “Then I won’t kill you quickly, sweet Hope.” He pulled back her white coat, deftly manipulating the coarse fabric without touching it. He was a wonder of biological engineering, and she marveled at his abilities. Her thinking stuttered to a stop as electricity pulsed over her breasts, the energy surging around her cotton-covered flesh in smaller and smaller circles. She stared at him in amazement. No one had ever touched her like that, with reverence, with care, as though she were a lover, not a scientist. “Chac?” What was he doing to her? “Not at all quickly.” He pinched her nipples with his ghostly fingers, and she cried out, arching toward him. It was her body’s natural response to the electrical charge, Hope frantically reasoned, the explanation easing her shame. “With you, I’ll take my time,” he murmured, making a current flow over her breasts, back and forth, back and forth, making her toes curl and her pussy moisten. He couldn’t take his time. The risk of the Agency recapturing her was too great. “No. Please, do it quickly,” she begged, her voice thin with desperation and need. “You have to.” “I have to?” Chac stopped his exploration. He lifted his head and fixed that dynamic blue and silver gaze upon her. She faced him squarely, feigning bravery. “Why is that, Hope?” He lazily stroked her cheek. She liked how he said her name, as though he savored the sound on his lips. “Because to wait is to go against your nature, Chac. Killing is what you’re designed for.” She didn’t share with him the real reason, as the less he knew, the safer he’d be. “You said so yourself.”
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He pulled his hands away with a snap. “And you knew that was my nature.” Chac veered closer to her, his chest brushing against her breasts, and a tingle that had nothing to do with his deadly fingers ran through her. His breath warmed her skin, and his gaze held hers. “You know I’m designed to kill, yet you came looking for me.” Chac paused, allowing her time to dispute his statement, but she didn’t dispute it, because it was true. She had looked for him, deliberately venturing into his territory. “Is this one of your experiments, Doctor?” Was this one of her experiments? Pain pierced Hope, a sharp scalpel slice to her gut, and she raised her face to the cloud-covered sky, blinking back tears. No, this action would make the world a better place. “I—” Her voice broke. “Wait.” Chac held up a finger, and a spark jumped from that digit to her mouth, numbing her lips. “They’re coming.” Lightning bolts flashed across his blue eyes in an internal storm so dazzling she gazed at him with awe. “But you knew that, didn’t you, Hope?” “No.” Bile rose in her throat. If they found her, they’d force her to help them kill more people, and the evil she’d caused would never stop. “Chac, you have to—” “I have to…nothing.” He crouched, his right shoulder pressing into her stomach. “If you thought to capture me, you thought wrong.” Chac released her, and she dropped forward, slung over his body. Electric pulses secured her to him. “You’re the one captured.” Her presence put him in danger, as the Agency would stop at nothing to get her back. “Chac—” “Silence.” He slapped her ass with a charge, and she stopped her protests, overwhelmed by her confusing feelings of arousal and humiliation. As though sensing her conflict, Chac chuckled, the sound low and deep, and he took off running, carrying
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her weight effortlessly. Hope placed her hands on his leather-clad back to steady herself, felt his muscles contract and stretch under her palms. As he sprinted through the maze of side streets, Chac stroked her legs with electric pulses, moving from the outside of her thighs inward. His caresses connected with her wound, and she inhaled sharply, the pain decimating all pleasure. His touch retreated and then advanced, probing, prodding. Hope thrashed, trying to get away from his searching currents. Chac slapped her ass again, his electric fingertips catching the edge of her abused flesh, and she bit her lip, holding back a whimper. Chac returned to his exploration of her wound, tapping the tender spot again and again, escalating her pain until the agony finally overwhelmed her. “Chac.” Hope whispered her killer’s name as she fell into the swirling blackness.
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Chapter Two Chac stood in his underground bunker, holding two chains in his deadly hands. One was manufactured of pure metal, and his energy coursing along that chain would cause horrific pain to his captive. He glanced at the woman slumped on the chair before him, her head down, her frail shoulders rounded. Although she deserved the pain, he couldn’t use the metal chain on Hope. Chac dropped it on the rubberized floor tile. “Extend your arms.” Hope obeyed his command, holding out her arms, her hands pale and shaking, and he looped the shielded chain around her right wrist. She didn’t resist the binding, and she didn’t try to escape. She stared at his feet, her head bowed in submission. His cock twitched in his tight leather pants. He wanted her so fucking much. Chac fastened the chain to a support pillar, and he hefted her upward until Hope dangled by her arm an inch off the ground. Although he partially supported her weight with his energy currents, the position must have hurt her, yet she didn’t make a single sound, her full lips pressed tightly together. He quickly chained her left wrist to another pillar, careful not to touch her with his hands, and he pulled the restraints tight, stretching her arms. He leaned back to look at her. God, she was beautiful. Brown curls bounced around a face sprinkled with freckles. He ached to kiss each adorable spot. She looked so young and pure and innocent. In Hope’s case, looks were deceiving. And fuck, he was a fool. Chac scowled. He shouldn’t have brought her here to his sanctuary, putting himself and all that he protected at risk. He should have killed her
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right away. He should have killed her years ago, when he had followed her home from the lab that first night. He had planned to. But when she’d bent over to pick up that earthworm off the pavement, all the anger Chac normally carried around with him evaporated. The earthworm had been writhing in agony on the street, trapped in a pool of acidic water. She’d scooped it out and cupped it in her bare hands to shelter it from the rain. As Chac watched, enthralled and confused, the infamous monster-maker, Doctor Hope Keller, had tenderly transferred the slimy creature to a small patch of grass blocks away. From that moment on, his fascination with the sexy scientist had flared into an allout obsession. Every spare moment of Chac’s blood-covered days were spent following her, studying her, thinking about her. Hope gave much-needed medication to a homeless woman, even though it was the very same medication her patent-holding Agency employer priced exorbitantly high. Her experiments formed the basis for the most atrocious cruelties against life, yet she’d buried each of her lab rats with solemn ceremony in her backyard. Her conflicting actions made no damn sense. The only rational explanation was insanity. Chac crouched and removed Hope’s small, sturdy boots, unlacing them with his electric currents. She was insane, and clearly he was as mentally ill, because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He unrolled her pristine white socks and dropped them on the floor, revealing her pale feet. Chac caressed her soles with the electric extension of himself, a facsimile of skin-on-skin touch. She curled her toes, and he smiled, enchanted with her response. Chac chained her tiny ankles to the pillars, spreading her legs wide. He inhaled deeply, and that smell, the rich smell of Hope, of her vanilla soap, of her warm, moist pussy, burrowed inside him. His cock hardened, pressed against his pants, and need pounded at him. He’d wanted her so badly for so long, and tonight he’d have her. Chac stepped back to admire his handiwork. Although she remained fully dressed, she was open to him, suspended in the air by chains, both her front and back accessible.
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“Better.” He picked up the medical bag he’d stripped off her shoulders. “Is this rigged?” Was she on a suicide mission? It made no sense that the Agency would sacrifice their top scientist to eliminate their number one enemy, but the bastards weren’t known for logical thinking. God. He was a prime example of that. Hope raised her head and met his gaze. “No. I’ve caused enough death.” Pain colored her big brown eyes. That was why he hadn’t killed her in the alleyway. He recognized her pain, having seen it reflected in his own mirror after each kill. “You’ve killed many more people than I have.” Chac untied the closure and opened the bag. There was nothing inside except a box. “What’s this?” He levitated the package out, floated it on power currents, and set it down on the counter. It was flat and rectangular, wrapped with brightly colored paper, and topped with a floppy blue bow. “Your birthday present.” Hope’s lips lifted slightly. “So you can’t open it until tomorrow.” “My manufacture present, you mean.” His “birth” had taken place in an Agency laboratory. Chac circled the box warily, examining it from all angles. She’d brought him a birthday present. He’d never received any type of present before. He nudged it with an electric pulse. “This is a trick.” It had to be. “It is a thank-you.” She looked away and stared off into the distance, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. He hadn’t seen Hope smile in three long weeks, and he’d kill to take away her sadness. Chac left the present on the counter. It would be opened, trick or no trick, because it came from her, was a piece of her, but he could wait, as she had requested, for tomorrow. “Why do I warrant a thank-you?” He stood directly in her line of sight, daring her to turn her head. She didn’t, wouldn’t meet his gaze. “For…” Hope paused, worrying her lush bottom lip with her teeth, and his desire to kiss her escalated. “For killing me.” Her cheekbones tinged pink. “You must kill me, Chac. Please. If the Agency finds me…”
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Her fear was a wild, tangible thing, bringing out a protective nature he didn’t know he had, and he puzzled over the desperation radiating from her. Why would she fear the Agency? She was their prized possession. Had been their prized possession. Now he had her. “They won’t find you.” His sanctuary, hidden deep underground, was impossible to locate. “You’re mine now, sweet Hope, mine to do with as I wish.” He stroked her cheek with electricity, longing to touch her with his hands. He wouldn’t, not yet, perhaps not ever, as contact with his hands would kill her. No. He had to kill her eventually. Chac closed his eyes and pictured the last laboratory he’d destroyed. He’d freed four children, if the monsters she’d created could be classified as children. The fifth child, he’d arrived too late for. He grimaced. Doctor Keller had to die. A crime like that couldn’t go unpunished. “I can do anything I wish with you.” He glared at her, the heady power of vengeance surging within him. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, Doctor.” Sparks flew from his fingertips. “Whatever you’re capable of won’t be enough.” Her heart-shaped face tilted up to him, daring him to hurt her. “So do your worst.” She deserved his worst. Her research had allowed unspeakable actions to occur. Chac paced in front of her, juggling bolts of electricity between his hands. One brush of his fingers would cause her to writhe with pain. Her vanilla scent swirled around him as he stroked the soles of her bare feet with caresses of currents, savoring the softness of her skin. He couldn’t do it. Chac stopped before her, met her pleading gaze. Whether she deserved pain or not, he couldn’t hurt her.
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“I won’t do my worst, Doctor Keller.” He smiled slowly. “I’ll do my best. There are many kinds of torture. There is torture by pain.” He yanked down with his hands, ripping her clothes without touching them, and she gasped, her small form convulsing. He whipped her clothes again and again with his electric talons, shredding the fabric, yet leaving her pale, perfect skin untouched. Strips of white coat and beige pants and white serviceable panties piled up on the floor around her until her body was completely exposed to his hungry view. That frumpy doctor’s coat had covered up skin the color of cream, and Chac yearned to taste it. “And there is torture by pleasure. Guess which method I’ll use?” He cupped her high, full breasts, brushed a wave of energy over the pink nipples. “No,” she whispered. “Yes.” Chac bent his head and circled her right nipple with his human tongue. She jerked, not from pain, as only his hands exuded electricity, but from the pleasure of his tongue on her skin. He nipped, and she moaned. He drew her flesh into his mouth and sucked, feasting upon her. “No. No. No. No.” She declared her refusal again and again, but she could do nothing, restrained and bound, forced to take his tender abuse. He smiled around her breast as the smell of aroused woman filled his genetically enhanced nostrils. He stroked down her stomach, winding his electric fingers around her womanly curls, tugging at them as his lips tugged at her breast. She arched toward him, offering her body, and he took that present, dipping into her moist heat with his electricity, the contact making the air snap and sizzle. He ran currents up and down her pussy lips, her readiness exciting him. She wanted this, him. “You’re wet for me, Doc.” Chac clucked his tongue, shook his head in mock rebuke. “Lubrication is the female body’s normal reaction to a male’s touch,” she informed him tritely, her face flushed a delightful pink.
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“To this male’s touch.” No one else would touch her. He ran possessive surges of electricity down both her spread legs. Hope whimpered, a small hurting sound that clawed at Chac’s heart, and he froze, his arousal shrinking with her pain. “Did I hurt you?” Her face was twisted with pain. Oh God. He had. Chac examined her flesh, frantic to find the damage, not knowing how he could soothe her agony. He found a large square of scabbed skin on her left lower thigh. The wound was deep and recent, the edges scalpel straight. “Who experimented on you?” Chac roared, a killing rage rising within him. “Who dared to touch you? Tell me.” Bolts of electricity shot from his fingers and were absorbed by the shielded walls. “And I’ll kill them.” “I hope you will.” Hope lifted her head. “Because it was me. I needed human tissue.” She needed human tissue. She needed goddamn human tissue. He glowered, all of his anger redirected at her. “Then regenerate some. You’re a doctor, damn it. You know how to do that, don’t you? There’s no need for you to hurt yourself.” “I was in a rush.” Her words, spoken calmly and coolly, fueled his fury. “You were in a rush, so you sliced it from your own body. Brilliant, just brilliant.” Chac’s temper flared out of control, the air crackling around him, electricity bouncing everywhere, lighting up the room. He walked away from her and paced the room in an attempt to calm down. “What happened, Doctor Keller?” Chac circled back to her. “Did you run out of test-tube babies to experiment upon?” he asked, whipping her with his words. She flinched, and Chac felt the pangs of immediate regret, yet he didn’t know why. Everything he said was the truth. Although others implemented her ideas, keeping those pretty little human hands of hers clean, she was the scientist directly responsible for the atrocities. “You’re a monster,” he told her, covering her wound with a protective layer of electricity, offering his living bandage as a silent apology for his brutal words.
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“I am.” She nodded, her brown curls bouncing around her beautiful face. “You should kill me.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me what I should do.” She was a monster, but so was he, and they were both alone. Over the years he’d spent tracking her, he’d never seen her with a man. All she did was work and eat bland processed food and sleep alone in that uncomfortable single bed. And lately she hadn’t even done that—barely eating, barely sleeping. “I’ll tell you what to do.” Chac would keep her as long as he needed her. “Your body is mine, Hope.” He swept her with a light, teasing current, and her nipples puckered. “I now own you. If you are to be abused, I’ll do the abusing.” He concentrated on those tight peaks, tweaking them with a static charge, twisting them, pulling on them, playing with them. Her breath hitched, and her nipples elongated, deepening in color from pink to red. “You’re not to hurt yourself, understand?” “Please, no pleasure.” Her husky voice made his cock harden once more. This time, he vowed, his cock would soften inside her, after he filled her with his hot, sticky cum. He’d grind his scent into every pore of her body, declaring his ownership. She would be his monster. “I’ll give you pleasure if I wish to.” And he wished to, very much. He licked her reddened nipples, soothing her flesh, tasting the salt of her skin. “And you’ll take it.” She quivered. “You have no choice.” He’d give her no choice. He moved his electric hands downward, finding her hot, moist center. She was slick with her juices, ready for his cock. “I am your captor, your everything.” He released her for a moment to remove his shirt, pulling the black cotton over his head. She stared at his chest and ran her tongue over her bottom lip, leaving a glistening sheen behind. He grinned. “Would you like to touch me, sweet Hope?” “No.” She shook her head too vehemently to be truthful, her brown curls bouncing around her face.
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“You lie.” He flexed, rippling his chest muscles, and she leaned into him, her body heat rising, the smell of her arousal hanging heavily in the air. “You want to touch me.” He wanted her to touch him, and he wished he could touch her, skin on skin. He popped the top two buttons on his pants, drawing her attention lower. Her lips parted, and he imagined them stretched around his cockhead. “When you’ve proven yourself worthy, I’ll let you suck my cock.” Her eyes widened, as though sucking off a monster like him was some great reward, and his cock strained against the black leather. “But you’re not yet worthy, are you?” He’d force her to take pleasure before he allowed her to give it. Conducting the energy flow with his fingers, he parted her pussy lips and pulsed against them, sending ripples of electricity along her folds. She undulated in the air, pushing up with her hips, her breasts jiggling. She was so beautiful, so responsive to his touch. He lowered his hand so his palm was directly below her pussy. He felt her heat, and he pushed into it, entering her with his electric fingers. She was tight yet welcoming, her inner muscles hugging him, squeezing him. “Chac?” She arched, straining against her chains. “I’m going to fuck you, Hope.” He thrust a current inside her, hitting the wall of her womb, and she cried out. “First, I’ll fuck you this way.” Chac pumped her with short, hard bursts of energy. Hope writhed, finding his rhythm and then meeting it. She was the ideal lover for him, anticipating each surge and clenching her pussy, giving them both more pleasure, treating his electricity as an extension of him. Because it was an extension of him, a part of him. He felt everything, every glorious inch of her, and it pushed him toward his own release…inside Doctor Hope Keller, the woman he’d lusted after for years. He popped another button on his pants. “I’ll take you to the edge, but you’re not to come, understand?” She didn’t reply, her face flush with passion. “Understand?” He shook her with electricity.
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“Yes.” She panted in time with his surges. He grinned, rewarding her with longer, harder thrusts. “Because soon, when your pussy is nice and slick, oozing with juice, I’ll replace this electricity with my monster cock.” He popped another button, and his cock sprang out from between the flaps. Her eyes rounded, and she contracted around his energy pulse. “I’ll fuck you hard and wild, Hope, and only then, with my cock filling your pussy, can you come.” Hope moaned, pushing her hips upward, her body tight and wet. She was no longer the logical scientist. She was pure woman—needy and wanting and beautiful. “Do you want that?” he murmured a breath away from her lips. He brushed his cockhead against her thigh, spreading his precum on her skin. “Do you want my genetically enhanced cock in your perfect pussy?” “Yes, Chac, please,” she begged, trying to catch his lips between hers, but he pulled his head back, knowing if he kissed her, he’d be lost in her lips, all else forgotten, and he needed this fucking, this joining. He needed her. As she needed him, was begging him to fuck her. Chac’s balls hugged his body. “I’ll give it to you, but not yet, because you’re holding back, Hope. You can feel more pleasure than this.” He ravished her pussy, his energy crackling over her, plunging his power into her again and again. She bucked, struggling against the restraints. “Give me everything, Hope. Show me how much you want me.” “Chac.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Please. I can’t… I have to…” Her face was strained with erotic torment. She had to come, and he wanted to feel her climax around his shaft. With one wave of his hand, Chac pulled down his leather pants, revealing all of his cock, hard and ready and aching for her. He held his hands wide, out of Hope’s restricted reach, and he bent his knees, positioning himself at her entrance, probing between her pussy lips with his cockhead to find her tight hole. She shifted until they were aligned, tilting her hips slightly.
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Chac sealed his lips over hers as he thrust upward. She screamed into his mouth, arching her back as she came, her breasts flattening against his chest, her inner walls vibrating around his shaft. Oh God. It was everything he’d fantasized about and more. She was tight and warm and perfect. With his cock buried deep inside Hope’s pussy, Chac savored the moment, relished the human connection, the press of skin on skin as she quieted. He plunged his tongue into her open mouth, tasting mint and Hope and forever, and she exchanged caress for caress, tongue to tongue, as though they were truly lovers and not assassin and captive. If it wasn’t for the painful compression on his balls, Chac would have stayed there for the rest of his life, inside Hope, her pussy around his cock, her lips pressed against his. He had to come, and come hard, so he moved and wrapped his arms around her torso, his hands pulsing over her back as he rocked into her. She joined him, undulating against him, torturing his chest with the brush of her nipples, hastening his tempo with the gentle push of her hips. Needing more oxygen, more everything, he broke their lip-lock to grunt into her ear. He inhaled her vanilla scent, his nose masked by her hair. The chains jangled as she twisted in the air, and her velvet cheek slid along his, her breath hot and quick against his skin. “Oh. Oh. Oh,” she cried out while he pounded his cock into her tightening pussy, her erotic sounds driving him faster and faster. Electricity flew from his hands and bounced around the room, filling the space with light. Chac couldn’t last, as it had been too long, and she felt too right, like acceptance, like home. “Come for me again, Hope,” he coaxed, unwilling to be alone in his release. “No. Can’t. No pleasure.” Even as she refused him verbally, her body coiled around him, squeezing his shaft, her juices flowing down his thighs. “You. Will. Come,” he commanded, bringing one hand forward, directing a surge of energy straight to her clit while he ravished her with hard, long thrusts.
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“Chac!” Hope made an erotic, strangled sound as she imploded, thrashing her head against his shoulder, her pussy sucking him deep, pulling him into her. Chac fucked her with renewed vigor, prolonging the hum of Hope’s orgasm while reaching for his own. His chest bounced against her breasts, their hips banged together, and a zillion points of connection bound him to her. God. He needed her, more than water or food or life. He was dangerously close, and he should pull out, splash his potent seed against her stomach. The animal in him, the deepest, most primal part of his psyche, wouldn’t allow that withdrawal. This was the woman he was meant to have, and he rode her relentlessly. He had to claim her. “Hope!” He poured all he had into her, his legs shaking with the effort, electricity shooting from his fingertips. His body shuddered and quaked, in rapidly descending cascades of intensity until he finally stilled, his cock limp inside her cum-filled pussy. Chac stared into Hope’s beautiful face, her brown eyes soft with fulfillment, her lips plumped with pleasure. He covered those lips with his, kissing her fiercely, reinforcing his ownership. She was his.
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Chapter Three This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Hope closed her eyes as electric fingers rubbed the waterless shampoo into her scalp, his electric touch soothing and comforting and not at all what she deserved. She had left nothing to chance, had planned her demise down to the last detail. She’d erased the databases and set the labs to self-destruct. Chac was to vaporize her, destroying the only remaining source of information. Except Chac, an assassin known for hating all Agency scientists, hadn’t killed her. He’d captured her, brought her back to his secret hideaway under the city, and then fucked her again and again, filling her until her pussy was red and raw and cum streamed down her legs. What did that mean? Was his primitive need to reproduce stronger than his programmed directive to kill? She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. If she did a scan of his brain, she could— “Lift your hair and widen your stance,” he commanded. Hope’s face heated as she obeyed, the position thrusting her naked breasts upward and allowing him access to all of her. Her embarrassment was a very human reaction to a socially unacceptable condition, a condition she couldn’t rectify. A cleansing cloth swiped over the back of her neck, and wild, primitive energy swirled around her. Chac allowed her no solitude, watched her during even her most private moments. Her body was his, as he had blatantly declared, and the cloth flicked over every inch of skin, caressing her breasts, cleansing the small of her back, and diving between her clenched ass cheeks to poke into her puckered hole. There was a pause in the rubbing, and she heard a sucking sound of air shower against fabric, and then a
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renewed cloth cleaned the cream from her pussy lips. She wiggled, shamed and stimulated by the warmth. “Will you kill me now?” she begged. “I’ll kill you when I’m tired of you.” Chac’s voice was a low rumble. He skimmed the cloth over her wound, an electric bandage still protecting the damaged flesh, and he scrubbed her legs until her skin heated. “Come.” The whirlwind of air around her stilled. He tugged on the chain attached to her left ankle. Hope met his lightning-filled gaze and saw the hunger within him. He was as naked as she was, his pale, muscular body inches away from hers, and he was aroused, his long, thick cock erect, his balls hanging like polished marbles. His need for her was explainable, as she’d seen his charts—that information stealthily obtained and studied with an unusual thoroughness. He was designed to prolifically procreate, passing on his enhancements to future generations, while her need for him was due to years of pent-up desire combined with the fertility pills she was testing. If she weren’t about to die, she’d record her unnatural horniness as a very pleasurable side effect. “Now.” Chac yanked her chain, pulling her toward him. “On the counter, ass over the sink.” He patted the shielded countertop with his electric hands. “I must have you.” “I…” She hesitated. “Unless you want to be bound again.” Silver shot across his startling blue eyes. “Is that what you want?” He leaned toward her, his chest muscles rippling. Yes. She did want that. Hope rubbed her aching wrists. Being bound meant she wasn’t responsible for her ecstasy. “On the counter. Now.” His order allowed for no disagreement.
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Hope hopped up on the counter and hung her ass over the sink as he’d instructed. The faucet swiveled to the side, away from her lower back. The position was precarious, and she felt slightly off balance, out of control. Or maybe he made her feel that way. Chac didn’t approach as she’d expected him to. He leaned back against the shower stall, his arms crossed, his dark gaze on her. “Spread your legs. Show me that pretty pussy of yours.” Her face heated with humiliation, but she deserved so much more. She complied with his request and opened her thighs. “Show me,” he repeated. She pressed her lips together, suppressing her retort. With trembling fingers, Hope drew back her pussy lips, exposing all of her to his scrutiny. “Hope.” Her name was a purr upon his lips. She raised her gaze to Chac’s, and in his eyes, she saw his intent. No. Her mouth formed the refusal, but she couldn’t speak the word. A knowing smile spread slowly across his normally grim face. “Rub yourself. I want you wet and juicy for my monster cock.” “Chac.” She found her voice. “Do it.” His face was rock hard. “But you are not to come, understand?” “Yes.” She understood. Her shoulders sagged with relief. This was another form of torture, not a pleasurable reward. Hope circled her pussy teasingly, coiling the desire within her, winding it tighter and tighter, and then withdrew her fingers, leaving herself agonizingly unfulfilled. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the pain of extended passion. Chac had showed her that sweet torment, and she inflicted it upon herself ruthlessly, punishing her body for her brain’s mistakes. As the agony subsided, she resumed her touching, pinched her clit until she yelped, and then pressed down with her thumb until she thought she’d snap.
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“Ahhh…” She wiggled her ass, the cold of the counter sliding against her hot pussy. Her body ached to be filled, but she denied it that pleasure, her fingers skimming her hole without entry. The air crackled, and Hope opened her eyes and gazed up at the source of the energy. Chac’s handsome face was stretched with need, his eyes focused on her moving fingers, a dab of precum forming on his cockhead. His electricity pulsed with each rotation of her hand. “Wet me, Hope.” Chac pushed between her thighs, gripping the counter with his deadly fingers. “Stroke your pussy lips with my cock.” More torture. She wrapped her sticky hand around his shaft, his veins pulsing under her fingertips, and rubbed his silky, soft cockhead up and down her flesh. A tremor ran through her as he connected with her clit, his tip hard and warm. Chac groaned, his lips hovering close to hers, and she tilted her mouth up, silently asking for the comfort of a kiss. His eyes snapped with silver lightning bolts, a recognition of her request, yet he didn’t move. He’d make her kiss him, she realized, as he made her work his cock, humbling her completely. He was a cruel creature, and she was helpless to resist him. She covered his lips with hers. He opened, and she tentatively entered his mouth, tasting barbecue meat and man. As she brushed his cock against her, she stroked his tongue. “Feed me into you,” he murmured against her lips. Oh, God. He’d make her do it all. Hope positioned him at her entrance, and he pushed in slowly, his cockhead stretching her open, caressing her inner walls. “Look down, Hope.” He leaned back, and she bent her head. His pale cock speared her pussy, connecting them. “Whose monster cock is in your perfect pussy?” “Yours,” she whispered. “That’s right. Mine.” Chac nuzzled her cheek, pouring the words into her ear. “Now take all of me. Pleasure yourself with the body your Agency designed.”
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“I don’t deserve pleasure,” Hope confessed, but she wanted him, needed him. She did as he requested, wrapping her arms around his torso and her legs around his hips, drawing him into her, his cockhead sliding up her body. Fully impaled upon his shaft, she locked her ankles above his ass, securing him in place. “Hope.” Her name was a breath upon his lips. She looked into her killer’s eyes and saw the pain and loneliness she felt reflected back. This connection with another human being was rare for both of them. She held him close, resting her cheek upon his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “You have to kill me, Chac.” Before she came again, experiencing more joy she didn’t deserve, and before she hurt someone she could very easily grow to care about. “Yes.” His chin rubbed the top of her head. “I should have killed you years ago.” She winced. He’d known for years what her research was being used for, yet she was touted as one of the most intelligent women in the world, and she hadn’t suspected. Research into decreasing infant mortality? What complete bullshit! “You should have killed me when you first knew.” She squeezed her eyes shut, capturing her tears. “So many lives would have been spared.” “Hundreds of lives, thousands, if you include the people your monsters have slaughtered,” he agreed, savagely biting each word off, his energy surges roughening, rocking their entwined bodies. Thousands of lives. She moaned into his chest, the guilt unbearable. The deaths were all her fault. She’d been so blind, so intoxicated on her next medical breakthrough, she hadn’t noticed how the Agency had slowly isolated her from the other scientists. Fewer meetings meant more time in the lab, and she’d been relieved when the internal memos she never had time to read stopped arriving. Until three weeks ago. Knowing about her unseemly obsession with a certain model 953702, a friend had sent her the memo comparing Chac to a specimen from one of her rejected experiments.
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Except the specimen the memo discussed hadn’t been half rat. He’d been half human, a child her research had helped create. She’d vomited. She’d wept. They’d replicated her failure with human DNA, those Agency bastards! She’d never experimented on human embryos with her splicing. Never! She’d considered walking off the Agency’s roof, but she knew the Agency would simply regenerate her brain cells and the experiments, the torture, would continue with the information her brain contained. So Hope had done what she did best. She’d gathered the facts and derived a solution. It had taken her days to uncover the full extent of the atrocities the Agency had performed using her failed experiments and weeks to conclude that the only way to stop the horror was for Chac to kill her. “Why didn’t you kill me, Chac?” “Why?” He yanked on her hair with his electric pulses, tugging her head back. His eyes gleamed with silver, the tempest within them communicating his anger. “Because I wanted to fuck you, Doctor.” He pulled back and rammed into her. She cried out. “Because I’m a monster, like you are.” He thrust into her harder and harder, shaking her body and pummeling her pussy. “And I didn’t care how many people died.” Hope welcomed the abuse, because pain was what she deserved, the only thing she deserved. “All I cared about was what I wanted, and I wanted you.” Their bodies slammed together, skin smacking against skin. She panted, arching against him, tilting her hips to take more of his cock, feeling more anguish from his words than his actions. He hated her, and when he grew tired of their fucking, he’d kill her. It could be after this encounter. Hope grabbed his hips, digging into his flesh with her fingernails. It could be tomorrow. Her breasts flattened against his muscular chest, and her clit ground on his cock. But he would kill her because he hated her. He hated her. The air around them sizzled with energy, as alive and primitive and dangerous as he was.
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“Fuck, Hope. Fuck.” He grunted, riding her mercilessly, and all she could do was hold on, clutching him tightly, fighting her impending orgasm, delaying it, delaying it until she could hold out no longer. “Chac!” She screamed his name, her killer’s name, as she came, fervent and feverous, thrashing against him, wild with release. He thrust once, twice, three more times before shouting, his cum shooting hot and alive within her, his hips twitching, bumping into hers. “Fuck.” He sagged against her, his shoulders rounded, his softening shaft lodged inside her, his broad cockhead sealing his sperm in her chemically enhanced womb. His lingering contact wasn’t due to tender feelings. Hope caressed his back, moving her palms in slow, lazy circles over his muscles, trying to ease the torment she’d caused him. Chac remained inside her purely out of instinct, increasing the likelihood of fertilization, as model 953702s were designed to be hyperpotent, an enhancement to offset the difficulty of hands-free entry. If she combined his enhanced sperm with her fertility pills… She sighed. That was one experiment she wouldn’t see the results of, which was a pity, because it might offset all the damage she’d done. No. She could never offset all the damage she’d done. She had to die. “Do you need to piss again?” His deep voice broke the silence. “No.” Her face heated. Hopefully she’d be dead before she had to repeat that embarrassing experience. He drew back from her and grinned, his blue eyes glimmering with amusement, one emotion she was certain he hadn’t been designed for, which meant he had evolved. If he had evolved in that way, could he evolve in others? Hope gazed down at his hands. “I won’t kill you yet.” His words were stripped of all humor. He stepped away, his cock slipping from her, and a gush of cum streamed down her thighs. He bent over, his shoulder pressing against her stomach. “Lean on me.”
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Hope obeyed, and he easily lifted her, holding her to him with his electric pulses. He smelled of sulfur and sex, an intoxicating combination. “Where are we going?” She watched his ass clench and release as he walked, his heels bare on the white tile. “To bed. Even monsters need sleep.” “Dead women don’t need sleep,” she mumbled, turning her head to look around her. There wasn’t much to look at, even upside down. The walls were bare, the furniture minimal, the bunker devoid of any personal effects. He laid her on a massive bed, the sheets soft yet, she suspected, shielded, or he would have burned them as he slept. “You’re not dying tonight.” He flicked his fingers, and the end of her chain wrapped around the bedpost. “That’s what you think.” If he wouldn’t kill her… She searched the room for a weapon. Was she capable of taking her own life? Was she strong enough? He glowered at her. “Kill yourself, and I’ll deposit your naked body on your boss’s doorstep.” He yanked the sheets up to her chin. “No.” She gasped. “You have to vaporize me. If the Agency gets hold of my brain cells…” She shivered. Chac sat beside her on the bed. “Stay alive, and the Agency won’t touch your brain cells.” He caressed her cheek with electric pulses, and the touch calmed her. “I promise you.” Their gazes met and held, and some sort of understanding passed between them, like an unspoken communication. Was that possible? Some animals communicated without speaking. Could Chac have developed— “Turn that big brain off, Doctor Keller.” Chac tapped her nose with his ghostly fingers. His warmth swirled around her. She stifled a yawn. “How do you always know what I’m thinking?”
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“Your face hides nothing, Hope. I—” His words stopped, and Chac looked at her sharply, his expression startled, as though he’d made some big discovery. The next yawn escaped her lips, and her eyelashes fluttered. She wished she knew what that big discovery was. She closed her eyes. Maybe if she spliced… Her thoughts drifted into nothingness.
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Chapter Four How do you always know what I’m thinking? Chac wished to hell that were true. He pushed the so-called birthday present with an electric pulse, bumping it along the countertop. Why did she want to die? Why was she running from the Agency? And what the fuck was in the box? He leaned closer, sniffing the air above the floppy blue bow, and his cock hardened. God. It smelled like Hope, like she’d wrapped up a piece of herself and given it to him—as a thank-you. Just as she’d said. That would be the perfect gift, as he wanted her badly, every primitive cell in his genetically enhanced body screaming for him to barge into the bedroom, his bedroom, and take her over and over again, covering her small form with his larger physique, fucking her so thoroughly she’d never want to leave. He’d never allow her to leave. Chac stroked his shaft with currents of power, pulling at his skin in an attempt to ease his arousal, but no electricity could replace the feel of Hope’s tight pussy. He bent over and flattened his nose against the lid of his birthday present, her scent filling his nostrils. Fuck. She was driving him insane. He wrapped the tendrils of energy tighter, working his cock with fierce determination, cupping and squeezing his balls, imagining Hope’s soft human hands on his skin. Nothing substituted for flesh against flesh. He pumped himself faster and faster. Yet his electric hands were all he could offer a lover, all he could offer Hope. His balls drew up close to his body, aching for release. He gritted his teeth and straightened. How could his monster hands hold her forever?
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He swallowed a roar of raging grief as he came, thrusting his hips out and shooting his white jizz over the clean rubber floor. It was an empty, cold satisfaction, a temporary relief from arousal, and even as the last spurts shot from his cockhead, Chac felt the need clawing at him again. He swept his body and the room with a cleansing wave of energy, and a movement caught his gaze. What the fuck? Chac stared at his birthday present. Why would it— “It was a baby, a baby.” Hope’s frantic cries, echoing through his darkened underground bunker, ripped through his soul. She was in danger. Chac darted into the bedroom, moving at top speed, the walls blurring. Hope tossed on the large mattress, her long brown curls spread out upon the stark white pillows. She’d twisted the bedsheet around her naked body and pulled at her chained ankle, her leg at an awkward angle, trying to free herself. “Shhh… Shhh…” He snapped the chain and pushed her upward with electricity. She reached for him blindly, fitting her face into the curve of his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his body. He wished he could do the same, but all he could do was stroke her bare back with a soothing current, while her small, firm breasts shook against his bare chest, arousing both passion and protectiveness. “No one will hurt you,” he promised. “I won’t allow it.” The bad dreams weren’t new. Over the past few weeks, when he’d silently invaded her bedroom to watch her sleep—a nightly ritual he’d developed to ease the pain of his blood-filled days—she’d had the dreams, calling out in the darkness for comfort. It had been damn difficult to watch her in pain and not calm her. Chac tenderly brushed her forehead with his lips, offering her that comfort now. “What is it, Hope? What scares you so much?” He didn’t expect an answer, because he was her captor and she shouldn’t trust him. But this was his fucking woman, and she never did anything he expected.
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Hope drew in a shaky breath and exhaled. “I was burying Sue. We’re not supposed to get attached to our animals, but Sue had been with me from the beginning. She was the runt of the litter, a tiny white rat. None of the other scientists wanted her as she was too small for the experiments, but I was an intern and didn’t know any better. Sue was getting older, and I was so sure the longevity solution was stable.” Her body convulsed as she hiccupped. He rubbed her back with his electric hands, and the silence spread out between them. It lasted and lasted and lasted, until his need to hear more overwhelmed his compassion. “It wasn’t stable,” Chac prompted. “No, it wasn’t stable. She died. I killed her.” Her voice cracked. “In the dream, I was burying her, and the blanket I wrapped her in, her favorite blue blanket, it started to move.” He remembered the blue blanket placed lovingly in the tiny grave. Hope had stood over the hole in the ground for almost an hour, her head bowed, her beautiful face shattered like a broken mirror. “She was alive, you see.” Hope touched his chest with her soft hands, sending shivers of sensation over his skin. “But then I opened the blanket, and it wasn’t Sue. It was a baby, a human baby, except it had no eyes.” Her voice broke. “It had no eyes, and it was all my fault.” Her shoulders shook, and she clutched him, holding on for dear life, her face wet against his neck. She clung to him, a monster, for comfort. Chac breathed deeply, his chest tight with emotion. “Shhh… It was just a dream.” Or a nightmare, depending on how one looked at it. A few seconds of silence passed. “Does it bother you that it was a baby and not Sue?” The majority of women were infertile, and that created conflicted feelings about children. He ran a pulse over her flat, perfect stomach. Could Hope not have children? “Of course it bothers me.” Hope drew away from him, and although the monster inside him raged to snatch her back, Chac allowed her to retreat. “I justified the animal
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deaths by telling myself more children would be created, children our world so badly needs.” Her indignation lasted mere seconds before she sagged once more against him, her shoulders slumping, and he wrapped his electricity around her, holding her tightly, not knowing what to say because nothing she had confided in him made any sense. What children was she creating? The half-human, half-beast creations no human parents would ever want…or love? “But they weren’t created, were they? Because I couldn’t get the splicing right, I couldn’t find the right animal DNA to fill in the defects, and they used my failures to kill children. How can I justify killing children? Children.” She groaned, a sound of pure, raw pain that made Chac want to fry someone alive with his monster hands. “I can’t justify that,” she answered her own question. “You’re right. I’m a monster, and you have to destroy me, Chac. Promise me you’ll destroy me. Vaporize me. Make sure not one brain cell is left.” Hope looked up at him with pleading brown eyes, and he would have promised her anything except what she now asked of him. “It will end then. Please promise me.” “Shhh…shhh…” Chac stroked her lips with electricity, willing her to stop talking, because he couldn’t process the information she’d already shared. Hope talked as though she hadn’t known what her research was being used for, but that was impossible, wasn’t it? Who did research not knowing what it would be used for? He looked into Hope’s beautiful face. Jesus Christ. His damn woman would, that was who. His grip tightened, a surge of protectiveness overwhelming him, because she was his woman. It was more than her being female, with women being rare in his deathfilled world, and it was more than her being available, willing to mate with someone like him. It went deeper than that. He needed her emotionally. And she needed him, to tell her she wasn’t only a monster, that she’d done some good for the world. “I cook,” Chac said, blurting out the first thing he thought of.
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“You do?” She looked at him as though he’d told her he could fly, her eyes wide with wonder. “I cook with these.” He held up his hands, balancing blue bolts of electricity on his fingertips. “I can feel when the meat is done.” Fuck. He even sounded like a monster. His face heated. “I’m pretty damn good at it.” “Hmm…” She touched his right wrist, and he saw that big brain of hers churning. “Obtaining sustenance is a basic need for all species.” Even for model 953702s. He forced that thought away. “Is that so?” he challenged. She nodded, her gaze fixed on his right hand. “Then I guess you can cook.” Her face blushed a delicate shade of pink, and Chac knew right then he could be assured of an honest answer if he ever dared ask the question. “My species has evolved past cooking,” she informed him in a prissy tone, her nose stuck up in the air. He laughed. She was adorable. “What species is that, Doctor Keller? Because I know quite a few humans with the ability to cook.” She tilted her head one way and then the other, her brown curls bouncing. “The mad-scientist species.” Hope smiled sheepishly, and she pushed him down, flat on the bed. She had the power of a raindrop, but he let himself fall, and she straddled his waist. “We are rare and dominant to other species, especially to model 953702s.” She sat upon him proudly naked, her bare breasts high and firm, her hot, wet pussy lips pressed against his stomach, his rock-hard cock jutting between her ass cheeks. Chac had never been happier to be a model 953702. “And does”—his voice lowered with desire—“the mad-scientist species have other needs?” He circled her breasts with light, slow electric currents, and her nipples tightened. “She does.” Hope extended her small pink tongue and licked up his chest, between his pecs, to swirl it in the hollow at the base of his neck. Her tongue was warm and wet and rough, and Chac groaned, overwhelmed with sensation.
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“She plans to satisfy those needs with her model 953702.” Hope dragged her short, blunt fingernails along his neck, her body sliding against his, her nipples teasing his chest. That talented tongue flicked over his chin, and Chac’s controls slipped. “Kiss me, Hope.” He watched her lips come nearer. “Show your model 953702 you want him.” Her mouth rounded in mock surprise. “With all his sensory enhancements”—she wiggled her ass, grinding her pussy on his abs and her ass against his cock—“he can’t determine my need?” She clucked her tongue a breath away from his mouth. “Maybe I should upgrade to another model.” “Like hell you will.” He flipped her onto her back and grabbed the shielded pillow behind her head, grounding his deadly hands. Playtime was done. He ravished her mouth, plunging into her so hard he tasted the metallic tang of blood mixed with her sweetness, while she raked his back with her nails and bit his lip, pulling at his flesh. “You make me so horny, woman.” Chac growled, turned on by her aggression. He searched with his hard cock, poking and prodding blindly until he found her entrance. With a loud animalistic grunt, he rammed home. “Fuck!” That was what he needed, that tight grip all around him. She cradled him between her thighs as he pounded into her, overcome by a need so primitive it drove all thoughts but one from his mind. He must claim her. She had to be his. The soft soles of her feet slid up and down his calves, the friction warming his skin, and she dug her fingernails into his shoulder blades, marking him. Although he would heal, as he always did, her brand would remain, binding him to her. Chac’s chest heaved with effort, and his balls slapped against her ass, the sting accentuating his pleasure. He was no longer the captor. Their roles had reversed, and she had no pity for him, curving her spine to torment him with her firm breasts and pointed nipples. “Harder, Chac,” Hope urged, her voice flowing like liquid sex into his ears. “I need you deeper.”
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She was a harsh taskmaster, whipping him with her impossible demands, and a whimper escaped Chac as he thrust wildly into her. Any semblance of control was obliterated by her commands. Unrestrained electricity shot from his fingertips, the charge raising the hair on his neck, and she undulated beneath him like one of his victims. Except Hope was alive, so very alive, and she was asking for more, more, more. Skin slapped against moist skin, burning, stinging, as he plunged into her, tearing gasps from her parted lips. He covered her mouth, inhaling her sounds. As they sped toward fulfillment, her body tightened around him. Her hands curled into fists, and she beat his back to the rhythm of their fucking. “Fuck!” He thrust hard and arched his back, swiveled his hips. “Chac!” She screamed, flying upward into him, smacking her breasts against his chest, her pussy convulsing around his cock. He caught her with a current of energy, holding her to him as he spilled his potent seed inside her ready womb. As she milked him dry, drained him of everything—his cum, his thoughts, his power—they dropped and bounced upon the mattress. “Fuck.” He rested his cheek against hers as he remained inside her, never wanting to move. Exhaustion swept over him. “Chac,” Hope protested, his large form flattening hers. “Fuck.” He rolled onto his back without exiting her body and stretched his arms to the side. He fell asleep to the sizzle and pop of electricity shooting to the ceiling, with the woman he needed curled on top of him.
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Chapter Five Hope knelt on the bed beside Chac. He feigned slumber, his silver and blue eyes closed, but she knew he wasn’t sleeping. Although his deep breathing hadn’t changed and he lay still, awareness crackled around him. He had woken when she had, hours ago, yet he had allowed her to wander around his home unfettered and unsupervised. She had freshened up, devoured mouthwatering leftovers from an impeccably organized and well-stocked chilling unit, and snooped through his closets and drawers. Other than finding one of her old security badges stuffed in an otherwise empty drawer, she hadn’t uncovered anything interesting or even remotely personal. Her disappointment was illogical, as the model 953702 had perfect recall. She stared down at his handsome face, her fingers itching to trace the slope of his cheekbones, the thin blade of his nose, and the stern slant of his lips. Chac didn’t require objects as memory prompts, and he didn’t utilize them to fulfill his primary function—to kill. Hope wrapped her hands around his right wrist. His pulse beat in a throbbing current under her palm, and electricity snapped from his fingers. He knew what she was about to do. She lifted his deadly hand. Chac wouldn’t stop her because this was the right decision. She had to die. When she died, all knowledge of her so-called research would be erased, and the world would be a better place. Her hands shook. She didn’t want to die. She selfishly wished to spend more time with Chac, loving him, being loved by him. But she didn’t deserve that love. She didn’t deserve to live. Hope tightened her fingers around his wrist, pressing into his flesh.
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Oh God. She was so scared. Hope closed her eyes, drawing courage from the darkness. She’d press his big hand against her heart, and the shock would stop it. There’d be a temporary agony, and then nothing. Her death would be as painless as possible. “Your death won’t solve anything,” his deep voice rumbled. She opened her eyes and met his gaze. Although his face remained serene, lightning bolts flashed in the vivid blue, revealing the depth of his emotions. “My death will stop it. No more children, children you label monsters, will be created.” “And the monsters that live, what will happen to them?” Chac didn’t pull his hand back. His electric currents caressed her breast, cupped her flesh, and her body reacted to his touch, her nipples cresting into sensitive peaks. “Will you leave them alone to deal with your mistakes, Doctor Keller?” Last night, she’d been Hope, but last night he had pretended he cared. “I can’t help them.” That was a lie, because the truth was in the gaily wrapped box sitting on his counter. She would help him, and she could help the others. She gnawed on her bottom lip, doubt of her plan growing within her. “If the Agency finds me, they’ll have the ability to create more children,” she reasoned, more with herself than with him. The hybrid creations weren’t monsters and they weren’t animals. The Agency used the label “animal” as rationalization for using them in their losing war against the Rebels. They were children. It wasn’t their fault they’d been born different. That fault rested with her for creating the mutations in the first place. And it rested with the Agency for using her failed experiments—without her knowledge, without her consent—to create the children. That research was supposed to have been destroyed, damn it! “Doesn’t the Agency already have that information?” Chac’s voice softened to a deadly murmur.
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Hope didn’t answer. The Agency didn’t have any of her research. She didn’t want them using any more failed experiments to create mutated children. She’d destroyed all traces of her research, and with it, any chance of another scientist helping the children she’d created. She stared up at the ceiling. Had she made another mistake, dooming those innocent children to lives filled with pain? “Don’t they, Hope?” She met his gaze, and his jaw clenched, the air sizzling with electricity. “Fuck, woman, what have you done?” “Not enough.” He was right. She could help the children she’d inadvertently created, allow them to live almost normal lives. Hope released Chac’s wrist, and his hand fell to his side. That could take years, maybe even decades, but she owed them that. “Not nearly enough.” “Hold me, Chac.” She rested her cheek upon his bare chest, overcome with weariness, and he stroked her back with electricity, the soothing gesture comforting. They lay in shared silence, the mad scientist and her predecessor’s creation. She listened to Chac’s strong heartbeat and to the snap and crackle of static charges, his form a marvel of biology and scientific tampering. He stroked her hair back from her forehead and placed a kiss on her skin. “You didn’t know, did you?” They were so in sync she didn’t need to ask for clarification. “I should have.” The Agency had been too tolerant of her failed trials. Her funding should have been pulled years ago. She hadn’t questioned it because she hadn’t thought about it, always enraptured with the next idea, the next trial. Chac tapped under her chin with his electric fingers, and she looked up, meeting his gaze. “But you didn’t.” His eyes warmed, the silver feathering out from his pupils. Hope cupped his jaw in her palm, ran her thumb over the skin near his mouth, smoothed the lines etched there. “I should have.” If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in science, she’d have questioned the politics, and then she’d have known and would have been able to prevent the cruelties.
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“But you didn’t.” Hope sighed and slightly shook her head. Chac turned his head in a blur of motion and captured her thumb between his lips, sucking on her flesh. She gasped, stunned by his speed and excited by his wet, hot touch. “Even monsters make mistakes, Hope. That’s what makes us almost human.” Passion darkened his vivid blue eyes. None of his mistakes had killed thousands of people. Chac might have forgiven her, but Hope would never forgive herself. As he returned to nibbling her thumb, she crawled up his body, drawn to him like metal filings to a powerful magnet. “Am I your mistake?” She smoothed his ice white eyebrows. Chac released her thumb with a juicy pop, and her skin glistened with his moisture. “No.” He examined her as though he’d find answers in her face. “You are my redemption, my Hope.” Mere words couldn’t disrupt a cardiovascular system, yet her heart fluttered with his revelation. “Chac,” Hope whispered. He raised his head as she lowered hers, and they met halfway, their mouths meshing. They kissed hungrily, sucking on tongues and feasting on lips while she held his face. His electric currents flowed over her bare back, pressing her tightly to him. He pushed his hips up, and she knew what he wanted, what he needed. She reached between their bodies, slid her hand down his trim stomach, and curled her fingers around his shaft. He groaned into her mouth as she positioned him properly, his cockhead nudging her pussy lips, and she sank down on him, impaling herself upon that primitive part of him. Her eyes rolled upward at the sharp joy of their joining, the connection between them tightening with each sensual inch. He was so large, filling her as no other male ever had. Electric fingers kneaded her ass cheeks, and she straightened, breaking their kiss to stare down at him.
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“Ride me, Hope.” Chac drove upward, deeper into her, and she gasped, holding on to his shoulders for balance. “Embrace your mistake.” He grinned, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “I’ll fuck my mistake.” She smiled back, rocking back and forth on him, the slide within her shallow and slow. He squeezed her ass and breasts with his energy, massaging her until she writhed and wiggled on top of him. “Fuck your mistake harder.” He thrust up harder and faster until she bounced on him, her breasts jiggling, her ass slapping against his thighs. Hope rode him, perched on top of her genetically enhanced assassin, his muscles contracting underneath her thighs. She felt powerful and strong, and it was a heady experience, as her life had, in the past, been more cerebral than physical. With Chac she was both scientist and warrior woman. His jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed. Rivulets of moisture streamed down his face. “Not. Hard. Enough.” He shook her body with his wild rhythm. When she didn’t respond, he bounced her off him. Hope shrieked as she sailed through the air, but Chac didn’t let her fall, his electric currents catching her, sliding her body under his. “Better.” He grinned down at her, not losing one beat, thrusting into her without interruption. “Yes.” She clung to him, meeting each surge of his hips. His hands gripped the shielded pillows by her head as he labored over her, pounding into her body, his eyes snapping with intent. While they fucked, she gazed into his serious face, his expression reflecting grim determination and a thrilling focus. She did that to him, drove him to great lengths to please her, to plant his seed inside her womb, and that knowledge pushed her to the edge of fulfillment. “Chac.” She grasped at him, needing the security of his solid form. “Chac!” She screamed as she plummeted once more, falling headfirst into a dizzying climax.
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“Hope.” He drove his hips forward, and the world exploded with lightning and thunder. Chac released a deafening roar while electricity shot from his fingertips, bathing her in his warmth. “Fuck.” He collapsed. His chest was hot and heavy, flattening her breasts, and the smell of sulfur hung over them. She curved a hand around the back of his neck and placed her free palm on his wildly beating heart. She was surrounded by heat. “I need you so much,” he murmured into her skin, his moving lips sending tingles over her body. Hope held him, scared by the feelings swirling inside her. She wanted to believe he needed her specifically, that not just any woman would suffice, but the scientist in her rejected the notion of love. “It is biology,” she rationalized. “You were designed to sense fertile females, and I am…” She stopped as his body stiffened. “I was designed…” He spat out his words as though he found them bitter and unappealing. “And you are… what? Fertile?” “Extremely.” She nodded, excited to talk about her groundbreaking trials. “I’m testing these fertility shots I formulated that—” “Testing.” Chac levered himself up by his elbows to stare into her eyes. He was angry, lightning shooting across his blue irises. “You’re testing fertility shots on yourself.” “Of course.” Hope frowned and touched his face, trying to soothe him. She didn’t understand why he was so upset. “I couldn’t put another woman at risk.” She couldn’t risk others until she was sure the shots were safe, which she suspected they were, but she’d perform additional trials, and— “You tested them on your fucking self,” he repeated. Chac pushed upward to kneel before her, his cock limp and glistening with cum. “Damn it, woman.” Power surges spread her legs so wide pain tore at her thighs. She winced, and he adjusted his electric grip.
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“Tell me these fertility shots are more stable than the longevity shot you gave your rat.” Drawers slid open, and chains floated through the air. She didn’t know what he was doing, but he looked serious about it. “Your dead rat.” He clamped a rubber shackle around her right ankle and tossed the chain into the air over a rafter. “Hope, they are more stable, right?” “Umm…” Were they? The shots were more complex, but she had tested them on Molly, her momma rat, first, and she hadn’t tested the longevity shot. “I—” “You will not experiment on yourself.” Chac didn’t allow her to answer. “Understand?” Her right leg was pulled upward, her ass dangling inches above the bed, and he fastened the chain to her left ankle. “I won’t allow it.” He wouldn’t allow anything. Hope kicked. She was chained up again. He stood, satisfaction flashing in his eyes, and a wave of cleansing electricity swept over his body. More drawers opened, and black leather floated in the air. “What are you doing?” She struggled to sit upright. Pillows slid behind her back and under her ass, and the sheets twitched around her. “Are you leaving me here?” “I’m a model 953702, and I’m doing what I was designed to do.” He stepped into his leather pants, and his ghostly hands yanked them up. “My seed will live inside of you for an hour, and by hanging your sweet ass in the air, I’m ensuring I impregnate my extremely fertile female.” He pulled a black T-shirt over his silver hair, and the air crackled with static energy. “I’m also going out to do that other thing I was designed for.” He flung energy bolts around the bedroom, slamming drawers shut and rocking the meager furniture. He planned to kill Agency men. A chill settled over Hope’s heart. He was one of the best assassins alive, but right now, he was angry, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. He could make mistakes, be harmed, get killed. “Chac.” She reached for him, her fingers extended, needing to touch him. “No.” He stalked away, his feet smacking the floor. “Don’t try to reason with a model 953702, Doctor Keller.” He opened the bedroom door. “We are primitive
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monsters, operating on instinct only.” He slammed the door behind him, and the frame rattled with the impact.
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Chapter Six Chac returned to his underground bunker an hour later, stomping his boots on the rubber tile, his rage even more intense than when he’d left. She had experimented on her fuckin’ self, his damn woman. But that wasn’t all, no, not at all. His suicidal idiot had rebelled against the Agency solo, leaving the computer system infected and three labs self-destructing on the night she disappeared. She had faced off against the Agency, the goddamn Agency. By herself. They had professional killers on staff, and what was she? She was a defenseless scientist. He slammed the bag full of her clothes down on the counter, leaving a burn mark on the canvas. Her unusually sparse apartment had been ransacked and littered with sensors, because they were looking for her, his fuckin’ woman. They’d been unsuccessful, and they’d continue to be unsuccessful. They’d never find her. She was his. He lowered the geneoscope with more care, resting the scientific apparatus on top of some brightly colored trial charts. It was the closest thing to wrapping paper he could find in the Agency lab he’d chosen to release some of his rage upon. He wrapped the paper around the expensive piece of lab equipment and twisted it closed. He shouldn’t give the geneoscope to her, because she’d simply use it to hurt her damn self. Chac scowled, whipped off his long leather coat, and tossed it into a closet. But when he’d seen it, he’d thought of his Hope. He hadn’t given her anything for her birthday, and she’d be pissed at him after being tied up all morning. Chac glanced at the small rectangular box with the floppy blue bow. He didn’t know what she’d given him, but at least his present was bigger. That had to count for something.
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He kicked off his boots, and they landed with a loud thunk halfway across the room. Not that he had to count for fuckin’ anything. Science did all of that for him. Hell. She’d probably explain away his gift to her as the model 953702’s primitive need to build a nest or some other biological bullshit. Chac yanked the bedroom door open, the hinges creaking in protest of his harsh treatment. “Chac.” Hope smiled at him, her face lighting up as though she was relieved to see him. He’d chained her all morning, and she was relieved to see him. The woman made no damn sense. “Hope.” He gazed at her, some of his anger eased by her beauty. Her cheeks glowed, her brown hair framed her sweet face, and her mouth was curled up into that secretive smile that drove him crazy. He approached, bolts of excitement shooting from his fingertips. Her body was gloriously naked with her legs spread in an erotic welcome, leaving her pink and tempting pussy open to him. He popped the buttons on his leather pants as his cock hardened. Her big brown eyes widened. “Umm…” She licked her lips nervously, leaving a glimmer of moisture. “Do you notice anything different about me?” Chac paused inches from Hope, and he inhaled deeply. What the fuck? He couldn’t smell his seed on her, and that infuriated him. “You’re clean.” How had she cleaned herself? He glowered at her. She’d been bound. “Yes. Umm…” Her face flushed a delightful pink. “Do you notice anything else?” She waved her small hands over her thighs. His gaze dropped. Her skin was white and smooth and perfect, with no scalpel wounds. “What the hell have you done?” A killing rage fell over Chac, decimating his control. “You were bound, damn it!” He released his electricity, and the air around them sizzled with energy. “Bound!” He paced, trying to calm down. “Is this another damn experiment, Hope? Because so help me, if you hurt yourself—” “I didn’t do anything.” Her voice was chirpy, her entire body percolating with excitement, like she’d found the cure to some disease he didn’t care about. “After you
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left, energy buzzed over me, and I was clean, and I was healed. The wound was gone, and there was no pain.” She’d been in pain? Chac clenched his hands into fists, driving agonizing pulses of energy into his own body. “Energy buzzed over you,” he repeated, focusing on her words. The full impact of that development hit him, and he reeled, light-headed and sickened. She didn’t notice, her face remaining animated. “This is the breakthrough we’ve been looking for—” “Breakthrough!” he roared. Transference of his affliction was no breakthrough, damn it. “Umm…” She gulped, her bright expression dimming, and Chac’s guilt compounded. “Oh, fuck, Hope. I’m sorry.” He crawled onto the bed beside her. “I’m so sorry, love. I never meant to…” He’d infected her. He’d poured so much of himself into her she’d become like him. Her throat convulsed as she swallowed three times. Chac read her emotions easily—excitement over a new scientific discovery, followed by the realization that the appalling transformation was happening to her, and then horror over what she’d become. He yearned to take her into his arms, to comfort her, but even that action was denied him. He glared down at his hands, his deadly, hateful hands. “You didn’t want…” Her voice was small. “Of course, I didn’t want this,” he bellowed with agony, arcing energy across the room, the urge to kill someone, anyone, tremendously strong. He’d turned his woman, his precious Hope, into a monster like him. “I see.” She blinked rapidly, the sheen of unshed tears in her brown eyes. “I suppose you didn’t consciously think about it. Your actions are a result of—”
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“Don’t say it.” Chac pressed a silencing pulse against her lips. He didn’t want to hear her infection was due to his biology, that he had harmed the only person he had ever cared for because of his cursed instincts. “You can reverse this, Hope.” She was the best scientist on the planet, and she could reverse the change. She had to be able to. “I’ll supply everything you need. Anything you want, I’ll get.” “You really don’t want this.” The hurt in her eyes ripped at his soul. “That is rare in the animal kingdom, very rare.” She frowned, her forehead wrinkling. She did that when faced with a problem she couldn’t solve. “Though there are some arthropods that—” “Hope.” He growled a warning. He didn’t want to hear about some other primitive species and their fuckin’ biological defaults. Chac jumped to his feet. He may be a monster, but he had some human logic left. He paced the room, releasing electricity while keeping an eye on Hope. “Why would this be the model 953702’s default reaction?” Hope tapped her chin, pondering his horrendous fuckup. “It could have to do with separating the female and the male, allowing the male to fertilize more females. Permanent pair bonding is rare in any species.” Fertilize…pair bonding… He pivoted on his heels to stare at her. “What the hell are you talking about?” “And if the male abandons the female, it would allow the Agency to have a more active role in the raising of the offspring.” Hope nodded, looking sad but satisfied, her overly active brain putting everything in order. “Very clever.” She circled her flat stomach with her hands. It was a protective gesture, and every molecule in Chac’s body froze. The raising of offspring, she’d said. The raising of fuckin’ offspring. Could she be pregnant? He churned that fanciful thought over in his mind, not trusting it to words. “Hope.” His voice was very soft. “Are you…?” “I’m keeping our babies.” She glared at him, her grip on her stomach tightening.
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“Our babies,” he repeated. “Our babies.” He hadn’t infected her. She was having his baby. He paced around the bedroom, tossing electrical charges from one hand to the other. “I thought…but no.” Chac laughed, feeling relieved and unsettled and happy. “You’re pregnant.” She was having his baby, a monster’s baby. He stopped, fear blanketing his joy. Would that harm her? “Are you ill? Are you in pain?” He moved to her side. “Of course not.” She gazed at him as though he were crazy, and he felt crazy, because the news was his every secret wish brought to life. “Our babies are hours old.” Some of the tightness eased from Hope’s voice. “Though how my body immediately adapted…” Her head tilted on the pillow as she rubbed her stomach. “And if my body adapted, couldn’t your body adapt also? Couldn’t the children’s? I should take a blood test, and—” “No blood tests!” he shouted. Chac took a deep breath, willing a calmness he didn’t feel, before leaning over and gazing directly into her eyes. “You will not experiment on yourself.” He stroked her cheek. She was too precious to him. Her chin lifted. “A blood test is not a—” “I said no.” He kissed her firmly, thoroughly, silencing her words and scrambling her reasoning. He feasted upon her, his woman, the mother of his children, pouring all his wild emotions and his fantastical dreams of a future together into her mouth. He hadn’t much to give her, but what he had, he offered, stroking her with his energy currents, sucking on her lips. He pulled back from her, smiling smugly. Hope’s eyes were dreamy, and her lips were plump and red. He’d effectively quieted that big brain of hers. “I would like to correct a few of your invalid assumptions, Doctor Keller.” He stood, caressing her with electricity. “Model 953702s do not abandon their females.” As he rounded the bed, he popped more buttons on his pants, the leather unbearably tight around his hard cock. “They do bond permanently, keeping their chosen mate over their entire life span, treasuring and protecting their offspring.” Her legs were spread for
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him, and her pussy raised for his perusal. He pulsed electricity up and down her slit. Her breaths came in sharp gasps, her breasts heaving. “And they are always attracted to their females, whether those females are fertile or not.” Sparks snapped as he drew moisture from her pussy, and her now perfect thighs vibrated with sensations. She wouldn’t last long. He crouched between her legs, unable to resist tasting her, as her pussy was so pink and juicy and tempting. “Understand?” “Yes, I see. False assumptions.” His logical woman sounded adorably frazzled. “False and dangerous.” He licked her from ass to clit, savoring her unique essence, a combination of sweet and salty and a flavor that was uniquely Hope. “Answer this question, my sexy scientist. If I can only fertilize you with my cock, why do I now wish to eat you with my mouth?” He fixed his mouth over her pussy lips, slurping up her wetness. Hope threaded her fingers through his hair, holding his face to her pussy as he ate her out. “Testing…my…readiness.” She panted, gushing more cream for him to enjoy. “Mmm….” He nibbled on her tender folds, and she squirmed, her ass twitching back and forth in the air. “You taste ready to me.” He flicked the tip of his tongue over her clit, grinning as she convulsed. “Ohhh…Yessssss…” She tugged at his hair, the sharp pain in his scalp exciting him. “Yes, yes, yes.” Hope chanted that word over and over as he thrust his tongue inside her, fucking her with his mouth, stroking her inner walls, and feeding on her passion. She wiggled, trying to escape him, and he grabbed her ass with his electric pulses, cupping and squeezing her flesh, exciting her even more. While he devoured her pussy, he spread her ass cheeks to access her puckered hole, and he pushed into her. Hope squeaked, clenching her pussy around his tongue and her ass around his electricity. “Chac?” He raised his head, searching her tear-streaked face. She was ready, the flush of arousal blooming in her cheeks. “Come for me, Hope.” Chac covered her clit with his
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mouth, and a high-pitched whine whistled from Hope’s lips. Extremely ready. He took a deep breath and sucked long and hard. She screamed and pushed her hips up, smacking her pussy against his face, her juices splattering on his skin. He nibbled and licked until she was clean and she’d stilled, her body sagging, held upward only by the chains. They were no longer needed. Chac snapped her restraints. She had embraced the pleasure he’d given her, demanding it as her right. As he moved upward, he tenderly kissed her stomach. “Good mommy.” Hope beamed, the lingering warmth of her orgasm reheated by his spontaneous action. He wanted their babies, his happiness easing some of her doubts, and he wanted her, calling her his chosen mate. Many species mated for life, so it was not inconceivable that her model 953702 would permanently bond with her. “Am I good, Chac?” She ran her fingers through his white hair. It was decadently soft, and a contrast to his hard face. “Am I worthy?” She used those words deliberately because she wanted to suck his cock. It made no biological sense. If her logic was correct, she was already pregnant, and if she wasn’t pregnant, she knew he was able. There was no need to taste his readiness. Yet she wanted to celebrate her fertility pills’ success, and she craved his cum. Since he’d teased her with his cock during their first encounter, she’d wondered what he’d taste like, and her curiosity had grown and grown until sucking his cock was all she could think about. “Yeah.” Chac undid the remaining buttons on his leather pants and rolled onto his back, his arms outstretched, offering his body to her. “You are more than worthy, Hope.” She sprang on him, their bodies colliding, and she yanked his pants off his hips, freeing his large cock. He chuckled at her shameful aggression, his rare sound of mirth causing her stomach to flip.
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Hope wanted, no, she needed to make him laugh again. His smile became as important to her as breathing. She straddled Chac’s thighs. His cock jutted out proudly before her. She licked her lips slowly, and he bobbed. She grinned. “Before taking any action, a good scientist must observe and make notes,” Hope informed him in the monotone voice she used to lecture interns. Chac raised one eyebrow, and his smile stretched across his face. God. He was handsome. “This model 953702 is a prime specimen.” She curled her fingers around his thick shaft. He was soft yet unyielding, his veins plump and pulsing under her touch. “His tip is broad.” She circled his purplish cockhead, spreading precum over the sensitive skin, and he groaned, a rumble low and deep in his chest. “It is to ensure that none of his sperm escapes.” It was also a source of great pleasure, as he filled her completely. Wiggling her ass on his thighs, she poked her fingertip in the slit, and he jerked. “His shaft is slightly curved.” She ran her index finger up and down his shaft, caressing him with featherlight strokes. “This is to better fit his female’s body.” Hope gripped him, pumping slowly, his skin sliding slightly under her palm, and his smile flattened into a grimace, lines of tension forming around his lips. Yet he didn’t move, remaining still under her erotic examination. Chac’s inhuman willpower challenged her, driving her to more and more extreme measures in an effort to break him. “The hair at the base keeps his sperm at the ideal temperature for fertilization.” She curled a baby-fine lock of his platinum white hair around her index finger, winding it tighter and tighter until she tugged gently at his skin. “Hope.” Chac’s voice was low with warning, but he didn’t stop her, his electric blue gaze fixed upon her face, sparks flying from his fingertips.
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Hope laughed, the prospect of having her dangerous man’s satisfaction literally in the palms of her hands exhilarating. She was powerful. She was woman. “His testicles are larger than a human male’s.” She cupped his balls in her hands, and they firmed with her touch. “Increasing the potency of his release.” Hope played with Chac, concentrating on his pleasure, learning his body. She pumped his shaft with one hand and rolled his sac with the other, watching his mounting passion, reading his likes and dislikes. When his need threatened to overwhelm his control, she squeezed the base, the heel of her hand pressing between his balls, and he inhaled sharply, his chest rising. Chac’s dynamic eyes flashed with lightning, electricity arcing over her head. His increasing tension was a palpable thing, raising the tiny hairs on the back of Hope’s neck. “Is this release going to happen any time soon, Doctor Keller?” His stomach rippled, his muscles contracting and releasing. “Or will your specimen expire on the examining table?” His teasing was edged with a desire Hope shared. She gave him a jaunty grin, her heart light. “I haven’t lost a model 953702 yet.” She leaned over and licked the moisture off his tip, tasting his salty precum. His cock jerked in her hands, and a whimper escaped his lips. “Though this is the first model 953702 I’ve had the opportunity to taste.” She swirled her tongue around and around and around his cockhead and then gave the sensitive flesh a hard flick. He thrust upward, and she moved with him. “This is the only model 953702 you’ll have the opportunity to taste,” Chac growled, his primitive declaration drawing moisture to a pussy she’d thought drained. “You are mine, Hope.” Electric pulses punctuated his words. “And you are mine, Chac.” She took him into her mouth, her lips sliding down, down, down his endless shaft, but she couldn’t take all of him, his tip tapping against the back of her throat, so she retreated, fluttering her tongue against him as she
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withdrew, and the rumble from his chest increased in intensity. “Mostly mine.” She gazed at his cock with a mixture of pride and disappointment. “All yours,” Chac reassured her. His legs kicked out as she applied herself to the impossible task once more, licking him with long, thorough sweeps of her tongue, wetting his skin, tasting him. She nuzzled her nose in his sinfully soft pubic hair before sucking first one testicle and then the other into her mouth. This became increasingly more difficult to do as his balls drew up close to his cock, preparing to release his extremely potent sperm. Hope’s eyes widened. Her assassin’s ironclad control was cracking, and she hurriedly filled her mouth with hard cock, taking as much of him as she could. She wrapped her fingers around the base, covering his remaining skin. “Hope, I…” Chac warned her, and electricity snapped through the air, lifting every hair on her body, her skull tingling with the charges. She sealed her lips around his shaft and sucked hard, pushing him over the edge of restraint. “Hope!” he shouted, thrusting upward, his cockhead slamming against the back of her throat, his hot cum easing the impact. She swallowed again and again, but she couldn’t keep up with the continuous flow, his seed spilling from her lips and dripping down her chin. “Hope,” he repeated, his head lolling back on the pillow, his muscular physique softening under her, the light of his electricity dimming to a low glow. “You are so worthy, woman, so very worthy.” His lips curled into a smile. Joy and hope seeped through her. The fertility pills had worked, brightening the future for all of humankind and giving them two special babies to love. She had a plan to reverse the damage she’d done to the hybrid children, and she had pleased the man she adored, not with her great intelligence, but with sexual skills she hadn’t even realized she possessed. “Happy Birthday, Chac.” Hope wiped the stickiness off her chin and kissed his thigh.
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“It is a happy birthday.” He pulled her up, sliding her along his body with a current of energy until she looked directly into his sparkling eyes. “The best birthday ever.” His lips covered hers, and the passion she thought he’d soothed roared back to life.
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Chapter Seven “What is this?” Hope, the love of his life and future mother of his children, stopped in front of the wrapped geneoscope and placed her hands on her hips, raising the hem of the T-shirt she was wearing, his T-shirt. She had her own clothes now, but he hadn’t told her that yet, liking that she was covered in his scent. “Did you get yourself a birthday present too?” She traced the peaks and valleys of a line graph on the paper with one dainty fingertip. “That’s yours.” Chac’s face heated. “I missed your birthday,” he mumbled. He hadn’t truly missed it, having spent the day stalking her, but he hadn’t given her anything either. “Aww…you shouldn’t have.” Her protest, though, was weakened by her enthusiastic unwrapping. “I’m opening it now.” She grinned at him as she peeled back the paper. “I figured that out.” He grinned back. With Hope, he felt young and alive and happy. “Ohh…” She covered her mouth with both hands, her eyebrows raised. Did she like it? Chac stared at her, trying to read her expression as his stomach tied itself into painful knots. Why wasn’t she saying anything? Oh, fuck. She hated it. She’d left that world behind, and now he’d gone and— “Yes!” Hope jumped half a foot and punched the air with her small fists. “Score!” She launched her body at him, and he caught her as best as he could with his energy currents. “A geneoscope of my very own.” She hugged him tightly, her breasts flattened against his chest, and Chac’s cock hardened, her touch and scent and everything driving him crazy. “How did you know?”
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“Lucky guess.” He chuckled as she skipped away, her bare feet bouncing off the rubber tiles, her excitement infectious. She tore the rest of the paper off. “I’ll look at these later.” She gave him an apologetic half smile as she flattened the charts he’d randomly taken for wrapping paper. He pulled a stool beside his mad scientist, and she parked her sweet ass down upon it without looking up from the geneoscope. She frowned, lines appearing between her eyebrows as she adjusted the dials. “What is it? Doesn’t it work?” Chac loomed over Hope, the pain returning. He’d damaged it with his electrical charges. Fuck. He glared down at his hands. He couldn’t be trusted around sensitive equipment…or humans, especially human babies. They were so small and delicate. How could he help raise their children if he destroyed inanimate objects? “It works perfectly.” Hope beamed at him, and some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. She liked her present, her face glowing with happiness as she rummaged through a drawer. “Now if I had a blood sample to examine…” She pulled out a pair of tweezers. “No blood samples!” he roared, his fingertips shooting bolts of electricity. There’d be no more self-experimentation. He’d die before allowing Hope to hurt herself again. “No blood samples,” she agreed too quickly for his comfort, her head bobbing vigorously. Hope not so casually scratched her bare arm with the tweezers. “What the hell are you doing now?” Chac narrowed his eyes, not trusting her innocent expression. She was up to something, his damn woman. “Skin sample.” She triumphantly held up a thin piece of skin, and Chac’s vision turned bloodred. “And there should be more of them in the bedsheets from before our pregnancy, so I can compare the two and determine what has changed,” she crowed. “Hold still, you idiot.” He caught her arm with his electric fingers and swept a pulse over her body, looking for damage. The skin was pink but unharmed, and he relaxed, releasing her. He could live with skin samples.
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“Of course, this would be much easier with specimen slides.” She placed the skin directly on the geneoscope, carefully spreading it flat with her tweezers. “There’s less risk of contamination, but I’ll compensate, using multiple samples to verify.” “No multiple samples!” He didn’t like the sound of that, as Hope taking more samples increased the likelihood she’d hurt herself. “I’ll hit another lab and get you a box of slides tonight.” Slightly out-of-focus brown eyes peered up from the geneoscope. Fuck. She was adorable. “Take me with you.” “No.” He’d get her everything she needed, but she wasn’t ever leaving their home again. It wouldn’t be a big restriction for his mad scientist, as she’d previously spent months happily holed up in her lab. This would be like those earlier times, except the duration would be forever. “Will this lab have children?” She nibbled on her bottom lip, distracting him with her soft flesh, and Chac nodded, his tongue tied with passion. “Then I want to go with you. I need to see them, just this once, Chac. I need to see what I’ve done.” “No.” He paced, agitated she would even ask. His feet slapped the rubber tile, and electricity zapped the air. “No way. It is too dangerous. I won’t risk you.” “But how can I help the children if I don’t know what they’ve been through?” She didn’t relent, her chin stuck out stubbornly. “I won’t be able to, and if I can’t help them…” If she couldn’t help the children, she didn’t have a purpose for living. Chac glowered at the woman he needed more than life itself. She wouldn’t hurt their babies, but his Hope was so damn clever she’d figure out a way to save the babies and hurt herself all at the same time. Fuck. He growled. He wanted to kill someone. “I’ll think about it.” He’d figure out a way to keep her safe and happy.
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“Thank you.” Her smile held triumph, because she knew she had him wrapped around her slender fingers. His mouth twisted. Although he may be one of the best assassins alive, he was powerless against his small female. She bent her head over the geneoscope again, and her eyes settled into that faraway expression she wore when completely absorbed. It warned him she’d be lost in science for hours, so he reclined on the couch, watching her work, entertained by the expressions flitting across her countenance. Her beautiful face reflected every thought flashing through her big brain. Their children would be smart like her. Chac stifled a yawn as tension eased from his body. And human, they would be human, with big brown eyes and wild curly hair. His electric pulses slowed. They’d have two little girls to cherish and love and protect. His eyelids lowered. “I need…Argh!” Chac jerked awake, his sharp action causing bolts of electricity to bounce around the room. His scientist waved her hands in the air, clearly aggravated. He grinned, bemused and enchanted. She was a passionate little thing. “Make a list. Anything you need, I’ll get for you.” She turned her head, met his gaze, and blinked slowly. “Oh.” He chuckled. His damn woman had forgotten all about him. Hope looked around as if seeing the room for the first time, and her gaze settled on the brightly wrapped package. “You haven’t opened your present.” He hadn’t opened the mystery box because no present could compare to the two she’d already given him. Chac curved a gentle flow of energy around Hope’s flat stomach, love curling low in his body. Hope bounced off the stool. She gave the geneoscope one more glance before hurrying to his side, his present in her hands. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
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She didn’t wait for his answer but knelt down on the rubber floor tiles, her body vibrating with excitement. “I’ll help you.” She undid the floppy bow and removed the lid. “See?” Nibbling on her lip, her face expectant, she tilted the box to him. Chac peered inside. “Gloves.” They weren’t the regular leather or canvas gloves, though, the kind he’d fry in a second of wear. These gloves were almost translucent. He sniffed, inhaling an achingly familiar scent. And they smelled like her. Jesus Christ. His goddamn woman had used her own skin to make gloves. “Hope,” he growled. “What have you done?” “Try them on,” she urged, her brown eyes sparkling, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t move, anger rolling over him in dark, heavy waves. “Don’t worry. You can’t hurt them…I think.” Her head tilted, and her nose scrunched up. “No, I’m pretty sure you can’t.” With much effort, he bit back his rage. It was his birthday, and this was her present to him, so he’d indulge her now and yell at her later, but he would yell at her, because someone needed to curb her reckless experiments. Chac scooped a glove out of the box with his bare hands. The material was exquisitely soft, and although it twitched as it absorbed his energy, it didn’t burst into flames or melt. He slipped his left hand into the huge flesh glove. “They’re loose.” Folds of skin flapped around his fingers. She squirmed closer to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. “There’s a button on the wrist. Press it once to tighten them and then again to loosen them.” He found the button, and the glove contracted to fit snugly over his hand. Energy continued to flow through him, yet sparks no longer danced upon his fingertips. He stared at his hand as he wiggled his fingers. Hope swept her hair over her shoulder and tilted her head, exposing her slender neck. “Now touch me.” Chac glared at her. What the fuck? She still wanted him to kill her? Hadn’t they moved past this? “No.” He clenched his fists, and the energy didn’t pulse back into him.
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“You won’t harm me.” She bit her bottom lip, thought lines appearing between her eyebrows. “You shouldn’t harm me.” She shook her head. “No, you won’t. It’ll work. I’m 99.9 percent certain.” “No,” he repeated. She wasn’t trying to kill herself. This was another one of her damn experiments. He didn’t know which explanation was worse. “Being 99.9 percent certain isn’t certain enough.” There’d be no more experimenting on his woman. She’d done enough damage to herself. “I’ll test it on myself.” He waved his gloved left hand over his right arm, and there was no crackle of energy, the hairs on his arm remained at rest. Bracing for pain, Chac clamped his hand over his wrist, but there was nothing, only the unique feeling of flesh on flesh. “What the fuck?” “It worked!” Hope hooted and jumped up, her fists striking the air. “I mean.” She struggled to erase the surprise and elation from her face, but Chac saw her response, and his lips flattened. She was 99.9 percent certain, his fuckin’ ass. She was never testing anything on herself again. “Of course it worked. I tested them…sort of.” She smiled sheepishly. “Put the other one on.” She waved her hands in front of his face. Chac tugged the right glove on, and he tested that hand too. There was no burning and no pain. Stunned, he stared at his fingers. He tapped the box. It didn’t burst into flames. It didn’t even move. He could touch without electricity, without hurting, without killing. “Hope.” His throat constricted around her name, and he was unable to say more. He felt the couch, his leather pants, his own thigh, rediscovering the world through his fingertips. He was normal. “Now will you touch me?” Hope bent over, offering up her beautiful, freckled face to his hands. Chac gritted his teeth, holding back as much of his energy as possible, and reached out tentatively with his index finger. He stroked her creamy skin. She didn’t jerk in
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excruciating pain, and she didn’t die. He left no marks on her flesh. There wasn’t even redness. He was touching her face with his fingers. His hand shook with emotion. He felt her as though it were his own skin. Chac cupped her cheek with his palm, and he swallowed again and again, trying to remove the lump in his throat. Hope sighed contentedly, leaning into his touch. “You know what this means, don’t you?” “Yeah.” He could touch the woman he loved. He could comfort her when she needed comforting. He could hold on to her forever and never let her go. He explored her features with his virgin hands, feeling the curve of her cheek, the plump softness of her lips, the laugh lines around her eyes, experiencing her as though for the first time. Her vanilla and woman scent faded as the gloves absorbed his own skin, his own smell, becoming a removable extension of his epidermis. “You can hold our babies.” Oh, fuck. He could hold their babies. The emotion tightened until it choked him. “Hope.” He clutched her in his arms, his hands pressing against her back, and she murmured something into his chest. He couldn’t hear the words, and he didn’t ask her to repeat herself, because he couldn’t handle more. This was already too much. He held her in silence, not trusting himself to speak. He could hold her. He could hold their babies.
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Chapter Eight That evening, Hope stood in a dark alleyway, shivering from both the damp and the fear coursing through her. Chac had given her one of his black leather coats to wear over her black T-shirt and dress pants. The coat was too long, the hem dragging on the pavement, but it protected her skin from the biting rain, and it was a tactile reminder he was with her. Though not at the moment. A protective circle of light surrounded her, and Hope peered past that blue crackling wall into the darkness. Chac had said to wait. How long was she to wait? What if he never returned? What if he was hurt and needed her help? She twisted her hands, her concern for him building up and up until she thought she’d scream. The electric barrier between her and the dangerous outside world lowered, dissipating into the night, and Hope breathed a sigh of relief. He was back, his wide shoulders blocking the streetlights, his moving feet soundless. He prowled toward her like a cat, although according to his file, there was no cat DNA mixed with his. She should test him, and— God. Chac looked grim, even grimmer than usual, and… Hope sniffed the air. She smelled charred flesh. Her stomach twisted. Agency soldiers had died tonight. Her assassin lover had killed them. He’d had to, to stop the experiments she’d fueled with her research, to make the world a better place. Blue light sizzled from Chac’s fingertips, and a buzz of electricity flowed over her. She smiled in a feeble attempt to reassure him she was okay. An answering bolt of lightning streaked across his dark eyes.
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“Come with me,” he commanded, his voice low and deep, a mere murmur amid the night sounds. “Stay close.” Chac turned and led her through the alley. His concern for her safety was visible, his energy curling around her, and a long, snapping tail of fierce electricity trailed them, but she needed to do this. Hope picked her way around a puddle. She needed to see what she’d done. Chac stopped in front of a plain brick building and opened the door, the heavy metal dented and twisted as though it were thin foil. The fingerprint pad near the frame dangled from the wall, wires showing, the alarm system deactivated. He released a pulse of electric blue energy, the currents rippling through the hallway. Hope stared at him in wonder, impressed by his abilities. “All clear.” He turned his head and met her gaze. In his eyes, she saw a warmth that heated her entire body, and all her fears fell away. When he was with her, no one would dare harm her. He zapped her nose playfully with a light electric shock. She blinked and then hurried to match his stride as he stalked through the rooms. The laboratory was a mess, with stools overturned and papers scattered on the floor. Lights flashed on expensive equipment Hope had only dreamed of having access to, but that professional envy vanished when she spotted the child-sized chairs. Oh my God. Her stomach plummeted into a free fall, and she bent over, dry heaving. Chac stroked her back with soothing waves of electricity. He didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could say. She straightened, her gaze returning to the small chairs. The straps were stained brown with dried blood, and although the room was now empty, the stark white walls smelled of death and pain. She’d done this. Her and her research. She was a monster. “There’s more.” Chac’s voice was soft with sympathy, and his energy coiled tightly around her, supporting her trembling body as they walked.
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He led her to a back room filled with two layers of cages, one stacked upon the other. The cages were built of the same transparent material as her animal cages, yet these miniprisons were where children, children, had been kept. She leaned closer to one. A dark form thudded against the door, leaving a smear of blood and grime on the unbreakable glass, and she jumped back. Not had been kept. Were being kept. She looked into the cage. Oh God. It was a child. His face was badly beaten, and his body was covered with hair, but he was clearly human…partially human. Hope covered her mouth with her hands, inhaling deeply, remembering that failed experiment. She’d mirrored the defective human genes in her rats and then spliced the DNA, thinking the primate genes would be a seamless fill. It hadn’t been, the growth-hormone-fed result a hybrid of rat and primate. This child was half human, half primate, and 100 percent angry. The beast boy stared at her with wild, hate-filled eyes. “Chac.” Her knees gave out, and he caught her with his electric hands, not allowing her to fall. Hope wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest, breathed in his warmth and acceptance. “I did this,” she whispered, horrified. How could they apply her research to children? “And you’ll undo it,” Chac murmured into her hair, holding her close. “And if I can’t?” She expressed her greatest fear. “You can.” He kissed her forehead, his lips hot on her skin. “You’re the best damn scientist on the planet, and you can do anything you apply that big brain to.” “I can.” Hope pulled back from him, meeting his gaze. There was no doubt in his eyes. He believed in her. It might take her the rest of her life, but she wouldn’t let him down. Wouldn’t let those innocent children down. Children who were never, ever, supposed to have been a part of any of her failed experimentations. “I can do this,” she repeated, her voice stronger, more confident. “I should…” She flung her hand toward the row of cages.
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A delicate child with skin and hair the color of grass floated in the far corner of the next tiny prison. Her green eyes were wide and accusing, and she had wings, butterfly wings. That had been one of Hope’s experiments too. She’d spliced insect and lab rat DNA in an attempt to decrease the infant mortality rates. Instead, the Agency had used her research to create this beautiful, trapped creature. “I can help you.” Hope pressed her hands against the cool glass door. “I can fix this.” She’d undo all the damage she’d done. “Let me free you.” She reached for the latch. “No,” Chac bellowed, and a wave of energy thrust her back into his body, pinning her against his chest. “Can’t you feel their anger?” He poured his words into her left ear. “They’ll hurt you, Hope.” They hated her, as he had once hated her. “I deserve to be hurt.” She struggled, her arms and legs flailing in the air, but he wouldn’t release her, his electric grip secure. “I did this to them.” “Your research did this to them.” Sparks flew from his fingertips. “And if they hurt you or kill you, no one will be able to help them. You’re their only hope for a normal life.” Damn it. He was right. Hope stilled, sagging against him. “I can help them.” “But not now.” He caressed her with his energy, rubbing her shoulders and stroking her cheek. “Others will calm them first, and then we’ll approach them with a solution.” He’d said we. He’d stay by her side, and together, they’d fix the mistakes made by her research. Hope turned her head to look into Chac’s handsome face. “You’d do that for me?” He rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing. “I’d do anything for you.” A barrier of electricity was erected like a translucent wall high around them, protecting them from possible attack.
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From the children who hated her. Hope shivered, rubbing deeper into Chac’s body. “Children, we’ll release you, and you’ll leave this place,” Chac said, addressing the Agency’s young captives. “Seek out the poet. She’ll offer you sanctuary.” “We don’t wish sanctuary. We wish revenge upon those who harmed us.” A boy with a face like granite crawled toward the door. He was too tall to stand upright in his small cage, his arms and legs long with the lankiness of youth. “And the poet is a myth.” “She is as much myth as I am, and the good doctor is.” Chac indicated her with a sweep of his electric hands, and Hope’s face heated. She was no good doctor. “Find the poet, and find peace.” He slid the release levers, and the doors swung open. Sound buzzed too low for Hope to decipher. It had a random rhythm resembling speech. “Do you hear that?” she whispered to Chac, her mind spinning at this new development. They had their own communications system. How had that evolved? “Shhh…” He shook his head, his lips turned upward in a small smile. The buzzing stopped. “We will first find the poet.” The young spokesperson had crawled out of his cage to stand tall and lean and stern before them. His hands were clenched in front of him, and he held his head high, his small body exuding pride. “Then we will find vengeance,” he vowed. One by one, the others exited their cages to stand beside him in solidarity. It was tribe mentality, with the granite boy appointed leader. Why would— Electricity zapped as the beast-boy threw himself against the barrier, and Hope jumped back, startled. Chac growled, holding her tightly to him, his energy coiling around her protectively. One bolt of light grasped their attacker by the scruff of his dirty neck and dangled him in the air, his arms and legs moving frantically. “Adam,” the small group’s leader barked. “Behave.” He nodded toward Chac. “The redeemer and the good doctor are not to be harmed.” The beast-boy immediately
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quieted, hanging limp and lifeless, his wild eyes wide, his hair matted with blood and dirt. Hope’s heart twisted. He’d be the first child she helped. “I apologize for his behavior.” The older boy’s voice was dignified and mature. “Adam doesn’t know friend from foe.” A low-level buzz radiated from the leader, and he gestured toward the open door. The other children silently obeyed him, calmly filing out of the room in an orderly line. Not one child was the same. They were all new and different species, alone in a nonaccepting world, and Hope was awed by the magnitude of what she’d inadvertently done. Chac retracted his energy, releasing Adam. The beast-boy growled at them, then lurched away at an unnatural speed, denting the steel door as he passed. “We are in your debt.” The tall, somber leader nodded gravely to them as he passed, bringing up the rear. His shoulders were thrust back, and his spine was rigid. Hope waited until they were out of sight before speaking. “Is it always—” “Yes,” Chac answered her question before she completed it. “We have to leave. What do you need, Doctor?” What didn’t she need? “Their files will help.” They were all different, and they’d require different remedies. The challenge was both daunting and exhilarating. “They must be in an office or the lab.” She trembled. She hoped they weren’t in the laboratory. She stepped away from Chac. He pressed her back to him. “Wait.” Chac released a surge of energy, his head cocked. “Now go!” The barrier surrounding them dropped, and an electrical current pushed her forward. “The files are to your right.” Hope ran down the hallway. “Grab as many as you can carry, and move quickly.” He yelled after her. “I’ll set the detonators.” He’d blow up the lab. There’d be nothing left of this horrible place, and Hope was glad. She turned right and entered a medium-sized room dominated by a large table and two metal chairs. Her lab had had a similar room, and she pressed the wall tiles to release the paper files.
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Oh God. Most of the file labels were crossed with red x’s. Hope swayed on her feet, gripping the cabinet to remain upright. Those were failed trials. She stiffened her spine. She had to concentrate on the children she could help. Hope pulled the success files, labeled with model numbers, not names. Although she was tempted to peruse the papers, she didn’t, because she didn’t have the time. “Doctor Keller?” a gravelly, unfamiliar voice rumbled over her right shoulder. Hope’s stomach clenched in fear. “Yes.” Holding the files to her chest, she pivoted on her heels. A broad, thick torso blocked her exit. Sucking in her breath, she looked up and up and up into a pair of flat, dead eyes set in a pale face. “Did you need me for something?” She forced herself to remain calm. “I need part of you.” The creature smiled.
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Chapter Nine Fuck no. Not Hope. Anyone but Hope. Chac sped toward the records room, the walls blurring around him, his electricity surging before him. He had felt the disruption in the electric waves the instant the monster spoke, and it had to be a monster, because he sensed no other human presence in the building. That monster now had his Hope, the woman he loved, the woman he’d failed to protect. Oh, fuck. Please let him reach her in time. He entered the room as the assassin’s huge hands closed around her slender neck. Hope kicked and punched, fighting for her life, her big brown eyes wide with fear. Chac propelled energy bolts toward the taller creature, but he knew it’d be too late to save her. He released a heartfelt bellow of rage and grief. It was drowned out by a scream of pain as the room filled with a light so bright Chac’s eyes burned. The assassin was flung back, his big body flattening the metal table. Released from the death grip, Hope sprang toward Chac. He pulled her behind him, not knowing what the hell had happened. He’d think about that later. Right now, he had to protect his woman. Chac stood between Hope and the assassin, bracing for the attack, ready to kill to keep her safe. The creature scrambled to his feet and rolled back his shoulders. The bones cracked as they were forced back into place. The huge man approached them, his gaze fixed on Hope, his muscular body smoking. “Stay back, or you’ll die,” Chac warned, holding out his hands. Electricity danced on his fingertips. A primitive part of him hoped the assassin wouldn’t heed his warning. The monster had touched Hope, and he would die.
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“You can’t kill me.” Her attacker laughed bitterly. “I’m already dead.” “He’s right.” Hope sounded more excited than scared, his damn woman. “He has no heartbeat. His blood must circulate, as it is needed to power his arms and legs, but I don’t know how,” she babbled, caught up in the science of the monster who wished to kill her. “Energy feeds from the Agency.” The creature’s top lip curled in disgust. “I’m their soldier. They assign me missions, and I complete them. My mission today is to bring back Doctor Keller’s head. No matter who I need to kill to accomplish the task.” The creature’s dead gaze met his. Chac held that flat stare. The assassin would have to kill him to get to Hope, and they both knew who the superior fighter was. He shot a bolt of electricity around the room, demonstrating his power. “Yes, the Agency needs my brain so they can access the research.” Hope nodded, unaware of the room’s deadly undercurrents. “But you don’t have to give it to them. We could sever the energy feeds.” She placed her palm on Chac’s arm, her touch easing some of his anger. “Chac could keep you alive with electricity, while I—” “Hope,” Chac cut off her words. He saw the intent in their enemy’s eyes. There was only one way this day was ending—with death. “You can’t save everyone.” “And I don’t want to be saved, dear Doctor.” The creature said, flexing, his biceps bulging. He was a huge brute, but Chac had killed larger men. “I am a soldier. I do not question orders. I will complete my mission.” He lunged toward Hope, his arms outstretched. Chac blocked him, surging forward to meet him a safe distance from his screaming scientist. He wrapped his deadly hands around the assassin’s thick neck, and the assassin did the same, squeezing Chac’s windpipe. He was impossibly strong, his arms as big as support beams, and he grinned gruesomely as Chac struggled for breath.
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In a test of strength, Chac might have lost, but he didn’t rely on his muscles. He pounded the assassin with electricity, the brute’s big body jerking and convulsing against him, his skin burning under Chac’s hands. The poignant stench of sizzling flesh surrounded them, and Hope coughed, the sound reminding Chac whom he fought for. He redoubled his efforts, drawing on all his reserves, bombarding solid flesh with pure energy. The assassin maintained his hold, and the room spun around Chac, the darkness closing in. He couldn’t give in. He had to protect Hope, safeguard their unborn babies, defend his dreams of a home and love and happiness. Fuck. He gritted his teeth, fighting his impending death. The monster’s grip eased, his body smoking. Chac gulped mouthfuls of air, and the black tunnel in his mind receded, his strength returning. “Chac! Chac!” Hope’s cries pierced through the mental fog. She was free, and she could have fled at any time, but her voice was high and frantic, because she worried about him. Joy invigorated Chac’s weary body. “I’m fine. Turn your head,” he instructed. The thought of his gentle scientist seeing this grisly death turned his stomach. Chac directed more and more energy into the assassin’s body. Clothing caught fire, and flames licked around his wrists. “Chac, do you really have to kill him?” his damn woman protested. Yes, he really had to kill him, because she’d never be safe otherwise. The assassin would hunt her until his mission was completed. “In ten minutes, this room will be on fire.” Chac said, employing another tactic to distract his stubborn Hope. The assassin’s skin bubbled with red, angry blisters, veins bulged, and his dead eyes widened grotesquely. “Do you have all the information you need?”
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“Oh! No.” Wall tiles swung open, and she hurriedly tucked files under her arm. As his mad scientist pillaged the cabinets, Chac ensured that this time, the assassin wouldn’t return from the dead.
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Chapter Ten “And then a charge went through me,” Hope chattered over his shoulder as he carried her into the bedroom. Chac caressed her back with his own charges, reassuring himself she was safe and unharmed. “It came from my womb.” She rubbed her nonexistent bump against his chest, the friction of fabric on fabric warming his body. “I’m sure it was the babies, trying to protect themselves. They sensed my fear, a natural response to danger, and sought to eliminate the threat.” He’d eliminated the threat permanently. Satisfaction filled Chac’s soul. He set Hope gently down on their bed, spreading her brown curls over the white pillows, a cascade of silk on shielded cotton. “I wonder what would happen if you touched me without your gloves?” Her cute little nose scrunched up. “Would the babies deflect the energy or would they absorb it?” He untied her bootlaces, manipulating them with his electricity. “We’re not finding out.” Chac tugged her practical leather boots off her small feet and removed her socks. Her soles arched, and he tickled her skin with currents until she laughed and kicked. “That’s one experiment we won’t be undertaking, Doctor Keller.” “We have so many other experiments to perform.” Hope absentmindedly pulled her shirt over her head, her skin pale and comfortingly unblemished. “That poor soldier. The Agency must be desperate for fighting men if they’re reanimating the dead. It really wasn’t his fault.” She tugged down her pants and panties. “If only I’d found a solution for his little problem earlier.” She rubbed her stomach. What little problem? Him being dead, or revived as a cold-blooded killing machine? Chac stripped off his clothing, leaving it in a pile on the floor. And that poor soldier had
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tried to snap her slender neck. He grunted his response and reached for the flesh gloves. “No.” Hope placed a hand on his extended wrist. “I need you tonight.” She knelt on the mattress before him, her eyes glimmering with desire. He stared at her. “With these”—he waved the gloves in the air—“I’m almost human. I can touch you flesh on flesh.” “You are human.” She came closer, her vanilla scent captivating him, and she brushed her lips against his, her light touch causing his stomach to flutter. “But tonight I need your monster also.” Hope slid her hands down his chest, lower, lower, until she wrapped her fingers around his hard cock, holding him as though he was her exclusive property, and he was. She owned him. “I need all of you, Chac.” She pumped him, her grip on his shaft soft and tight and perfect. “You’ll always have all of me.” She needed his monster. Fuck. The things she said made his heart twist. Chac dropped his hands, and sparks flicked over his thighs, the pinpricks of pain sharpening his desire. “Good, because I won’t settle for less.” She cupped his balls with her free hand and squeezed. He groaned, and she leaned into him more, a wicked smile on her face. “I want the most primitive side of you.” He wouldn’t last long, not with the way she worked his cock. “You want primitive.” He thrust her back onto the mattress with a burst of energy. “You’ll get primitive.” He flipped her over, and she shrieked. She struggled and kicked, but he slapped a current down on her shoulders, forcing her to lower them, the angle tilting her sweetly rounded ass into the air. “I’ll fuck you like the animal I am.” He crawled onto the bed behind her, positioning himself between her spread legs. Moisture glistened on her pink pussy lips. “You’re wet for me, Doctor.” He stroked her with electric caresses. “Does the prospect of being dominated by a model 953702 excite you?” He pulsed into her, and she cried out, her back arching.
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“Normal…response.” She huffed, pushing back with her hips into his energy. “Ahhh…yes. It is instinct.” He spread her pussy lips. Her tight little hole clenched and released, trying to catch his translucent thrusts. His cock bobbed. “You’d want any model 953702’s cock in your pussy.” “No.” She moaned the word as he ravished her pussy, drawing rich cream from her writhing body. “Only yours. Want only you. Pair….bonding.” “Permanent pair bonding,” he corrected, buoyed by her declaration. He nudged her entrance with his cockhead, and she wiggled. “You are mine, Hope.” He snapped electricity across her pale ass cheeks, and she whimpered. A pink mark branded her perfect skin. “Mine.” “Yours,” she readily agreed, swaying backward. He held still, allowing her to impale herself on his cock, his tip sliding inside her warmth farther and farther until she’d taken him all. Fuck. She felt like peace. He draped himself over her, his chest rubbing against her rounded back, and he cupped her breasts with his electricity, the tendrils swirling around her flesh, gathering her tighter and tighter against him. She gasped, bucking upward, as he tweaked her nipples. He braced his arms on both sides of her, capturing her small form, and rocked into her gently, savoring the connection between them. “Forever.” He’d kill to ensure every night was spent like this, inside the woman he loved, the mother-to-be of his children. “Forever.” She drove back onto him, her rising passion speeding up his rhythm. “But…monsters…fuck…harder,” she teasingly berated him. “Monsters fuck rougher.” He licked along her arched spine as he pulled back, leaving only his cockhead inside her, unable to sever their connection completely. She moaned, wiggling underneath him, her breasts bouncing and her ass jiggling, and Chac whipped electricity over that soft skin. “Feel my monster, Hope.” With every snap of blue light, her pussy tightened around his tip in retaliation with his sexual taunting.
Cynthia Sax | Love, Hope, and Electricity
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Chac broke first, surging into her, and she rocked forward on her hands and knees, absorbing the impact. He lunged forward again and again, drawing stimulating cries and pants and animal noises from Hope’s normally articulate lips. His sexy scientist was past rational speech, and he was past rational thought, needing to possess all of her. Chac ran his electric hands over her soft breasts and down her stomach, the sparks from her womb dancing with his. He threaded his energy through her soft curls to find her throbbing clit and pushed down on that small pleasure button as he ravished her pussy with his cock. Hope was an eager recipient of his primal urges. Smelling her excitement, her readiness, he slapped her clit with a sharp flick of electricity. She screamed and bucked, while he restrained her, his chest and arms forming a cage around her body. She could only move back against his cock, taking him deeper and severing his control. Chac joined her in explosive release, spurting hard and fierce, filling her trembling pussy with his cum. Fuck. She was something. Drained and lightheaded, Chac collapsed on top of his woman. She squeaked a protest, and he rolled over, taking her with him. “I love you, Hope.” The words slipped out before he could stop them, and he grimaced, bracing to hear an explanation as to why love didn’t exist. Hope propped her beautiful face up on his chest, and she smiled, her eyes glowing with passion. “We must both be suffering from an imbalance of serotonin.” She skimmed his lips with her fingertips. “Because I love you too.” Chac chuckled, his heart overfilling with joy. He loved his logical woman.
Loose Id Titles by Cynthia Sax Assassin’s Haiku Barb and the Barbarians Love, Hope, and Electricity
Cynthia Sax Cynthia Sax lives in a world where demons aren’t all bad, angels aren’t all good, and magic happens every single day. Although her heroes may not always say, “I love you,” they will do anything for the women they love. They live passionately. They fight fiercely. They love the same women forever. Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research. He receives a daily briefing on what every character is doing. You can also learn what Cynthia Sax’s characters are doing by visiting her website at http://www.CynthiaSax.com or emailing her directly at
[email protected].
