Page 19 of The Lone Cyborg
“We should head back,” he said reluctantly, checking his internal chronometer. “It’s later than I thought.”
She sighed, shouldering her pack with visible disappointment.
“I could spend a lifetime studying this place.” She looked up at him, her eyes bright in the dim light. “I’m glad you were here with me.”
“I am too.”
She whistled for Sylvester, and they began the climb back to the surface. As they did, his augmented hearing picked up the low keening of wind across the plains above and he thought of the small shelter waiting for them, the fragile bubble of safety she’d carved out in this unforgiving landscape. Her home.
The weight of all he hadn’t said pressed down on him, heavy as the red dust beneath his feet.
They emerged, blinking, into the fading light of a Martian sunset. The cold already bit at exposed skin, a reminder ofthe long, frozen night ahead, and he urged her quickly across the open space between the lava tube and the shelter. As they crossed the area, Trojan came to meet them, greeting them both with soft indignant huff, and she laughed.
“I’m sorry we left you alone all day. You’d better come inside with us.”
Us?
“Are you sure? There’s no sign of a storm tonight.”
“I’m sure,” she said softly and opened the airlock.
She tugged him inside, Trojan crowding after them, and sealed the outer airlock behind them, the hiss of pressurization a familiar comfort.
She removed her mask with a grateful sigh, scrubbing at her cheeks before moving over to the small kitchen area.
“I hope you’re hungry,” she said, flashing him a smile over her shoulder. “I’ve been saving these rations for a special occasion.”
“You don’t have to waste them on me—I don’t really need the sustenance.”
“It’s not a waste—it’s a celebration, and there’s no one I would rather share them with.”
He returned her smile, his heart swelling with an emotion he couldn’t quite name.
“Every meal with you is a celebration, Mattie.”
Just as they had the previous night they took turns showering, and it already felt like a comfortable routine. The food was as delicious as it had been the previous night and once againthey lingered at the table, discussing the cavern and trading increasingly outrageous theories as to the source of its existence.
He was still laughing when she rose from her seat and came to stand in front of him as she had the night before.
“I want you to share my bed again,” she said softly. “And not just to sleep this time.”
His breath caught in his throat.
“Mattie…”
She pressed a gentle finger to his lips.
“Shh,” she breathed, her eyes luminous in the dimness. “No more talking. Not tonight.”
She tugged him gently to his feet, then carefully unbuttoned his shirt, her hand trailing down his bare chest, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Then her hand drifted lower, cupping his erection. He’d been erect since the moment she stood in front of him, her sweet scent filling his head, and his cock throbbed against her palm as she gave him a gentle squeeze.
“Please,” he murmured, not even sure what he was asking for, but she seemed to understand.
She freed his erection, the cool air of the shelter a sharp contrast to the heat of her hand, then grasped him again, her small hand trying to encircle his shaft. The sensation was incredible, but even more incredible was the fact that it was Mattie touching him, Mattie’s hands on his body. He fought the urge to thrust into her hand, a distant part of his brain reminding him that he couldn’t simply do that—he would have to earn this pleasure, have to prove to her that he deserved to be touched like this, that he would be worthy of her affection.
“My turn,” he growled, slowly unbuttoning her shirt.
She shivered as he pushed it open to reveal her small, perfect breasts, her nipples already flushed a dark red. Her hand tightened on his cock, stroking him faster, her thumb sweeping across the sensitive tip.
