would black out.
It wasn’t until all resistance was leached from her and she went limp that he ceased to torment her. It took several moments to gather the strength to lift her eyelids when he released her at last and lifted his head to look at her once more. She couldn’t even manage a look of reproach, certainly not one of indifference.
Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he rolled off of her and lay down on the bunk on his side, tugging at her until he’d tucked her back against his chest. “Rest now.”
It took several moments for that to sink in to her heat fogged brain. Rest?
Amaryllis thought, abruptly outraged. Her whole body was on fire!
How could he do … that and then just fucking stop?
As irritated as she was, Amaryllis only tensed, yielding without any more protest than a slight resistance. She’d had time to cool, if only slightly, and time to remember, belatedly, that she was supposed to be lulling him into a false sense of security, supposed to be trying to seduce him so that she could overcome him.
She stank at this.
It didn’t take a mental giant to see that she was in far more danger of being seduced than he was.
She also had a bad feeling that the longer it took to accomplish such a mission, the less likely it was that she’d be able to go through with it. Machine or not, he had personality. It might be as maddening as it was appealing, but it wasn’t something that she could feel indifference about.
It was one thing, she realized, to target an unknown entity, trust that it was no more than a runaway machine, and blow it to bits. It was quite another to cozy up to one who looked, and felt, and acted like a human being and commit an act that would feel like cold blooded murder.
She was fairly certain she wasn’t going to be able to go through with it.
Why couldn’t he have been like he was supposed to be? Cold. Mechanical.
Unfeeling. Why couldn’t he have been insane?
Damn him anyway! How could he have seen through what she’d been so carefully hiding from herself? She wasn’t going to be able lie to herself, or to him, that she was immune to him.
Maybe it was merely a psychological reaction to being taken captive? She’d never been captured before. She’d had training for it, but no scenario had been anything like this. The expectation had been that she would be tortured--with pain, not pleasure.
Maybe she hadn’t properly assessed the situation to start with? Maybe killing him was not only not necessary to her own survival, but entirely the opposite? Contributing to her downfall?
“It would be easier to avoid broaching a painful topic if I knew what it was.”
Despite her distraction, it didn’t take her two seconds to realize he was harping on their earlier disagreement. Amaryllis gritted her teeth. “Jeez! Could you just drop it? It doesn’t matter.”
“If it didn’t, you wouldn’t be angry.”
She tensed, considering rolling from the bunk and stalking across the room to put some distance between them. His arm tightened as if he knew exactly what was running through her mind. She relapsed, fuming.
He fell silent. She didn’t know if he was sleeping or not, but his hold didn’t loosen and she found she couldn’t maintain either her anger or her tension. Slowly but surely it seeped away. The desire he’d aroused in her didn’t.
He was warm. He breathed. His body was hard, but in the sense of well honed muscle and tissue, not cold metal.
He felt good.
He felt damned good.
He’s a machine! She mentally screamed at herself.
Why the hell had they made them so real? Stupid, conceited, megalomaniacs!
What was it about humans and their preoccupation with perfection anyway? Why create something so perfect it was better than the real thing? Because they liked to think they could do a better job than nature? Hell, that wasn’t all that damned hard! Look at her! A freak of nature if there ever was one. She should never have been born at all, much less
It wasn’t until all resistance was leached from her and she went limp that he ceased to torment her. It took several moments to gather the strength to lift her eyelids when he released her at last and lifted his head to look at her once more. She couldn’t even manage a look of reproach, certainly not one of indifference.
Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he rolled off of her and lay down on the bunk on his side, tugging at her until he’d tucked her back against his chest. “Rest now.”
It took several moments for that to sink in to her heat fogged brain. Rest?
Amaryllis thought, abruptly outraged. Her whole body was on fire!
How could he do … that and then just fucking stop?
As irritated as she was, Amaryllis only tensed, yielding without any more protest than a slight resistance. She’d had time to cool, if only slightly, and time to remember, belatedly, that she was supposed to be lulling him into a false sense of security, supposed to be trying to seduce him so that she could overcome him.
She stank at this.
It didn’t take a mental giant to see that she was in far more danger of being seduced than he was.
She also had a bad feeling that the longer it took to accomplish such a mission, the less likely it was that she’d be able to go through with it. Machine or not, he had personality. It might be as maddening as it was appealing, but it wasn’t something that she could feel indifference about.
It was one thing, she realized, to target an unknown entity, trust that it was no more than a runaway machine, and blow it to bits. It was quite another to cozy up to one who looked, and felt, and acted like a human being and commit an act that would feel like cold blooded murder.
She was fairly certain she wasn’t going to be able to go through with it.
Why couldn’t he have been like he was supposed to be? Cold. Mechanical.
Unfeeling. Why couldn’t he have been insane?
Damn him anyway! How could he have seen through what she’d been so carefully hiding from herself? She wasn’t going to be able lie to herself, or to him, that she was immune to him.
Maybe it was merely a psychological reaction to being taken captive? She’d never been captured before. She’d had training for it, but no scenario had been anything like this. The expectation had been that she would be tortured--with pain, not pleasure.
Maybe she hadn’t properly assessed the situation to start with? Maybe killing him was not only not necessary to her own survival, but entirely the opposite? Contributing to her downfall?
“It would be easier to avoid broaching a painful topic if I knew what it was.”
Despite her distraction, it didn’t take her two seconds to realize he was harping on their earlier disagreement. Amaryllis gritted her teeth. “Jeez! Could you just drop it? It doesn’t matter.”
“If it didn’t, you wouldn’t be angry.”
She tensed, considering rolling from the bunk and stalking across the room to put some distance between them. His arm tightened as if he knew exactly what was running through her mind. She relapsed, fuming.
He fell silent. She didn’t know if he was sleeping or not, but his hold didn’t loosen and she found she couldn’t maintain either her anger or her tension. Slowly but surely it seeped away. The desire he’d aroused in her didn’t.
He was warm. He breathed. His body was hard, but in the sense of well honed muscle and tissue, not cold metal.
He felt good.
He felt damned good.
He’s a machine! She mentally screamed at herself.
Why the hell had they made them so real? Stupid, conceited, megalomaniacs!
What was it about humans and their preoccupation with perfection anyway? Why create something so perfect it was better than the real thing? Because they liked to think they could do a better job than nature? Hell, that wasn’t all that damned hard! Look at her! A freak of nature if there ever was one. She should never have been born at all, much less
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