Page 27 of Human Reform (Cyborg Planet Alpha #3)
TWENTY-SEVEN
ALORA
Daxon’s forehead pressed against mine, his breath warm and unsteady. His knuckles were still bloodied from beating Tegan into unconsciousness, and I could feel the faint tremble in his hands as he cupped my face. The words he’d just uttered echoed in my ears.
You also saved me. From a life without feeling. From a life without you.
My chest tightened, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
It was the most profound thing anyone had ever said to me.
Not just the words but the way he said them—like they were being torn out of him, like he’d spent years holding them back, and now they refused to stay buried.
I reached up, my fingers brushing over his wrists and feeling the pulse of his heartbeat against my skin.
“I can’t imagine my life without you, either,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I know it’s only been a week, but it doesn’t feel like that.
It feels like I’ve known you forever. My soul—it recognizes yours.
I was blind to it at first, but now… now I see you. The real you.”
His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at me, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to memorize every detail. Then, without warning, his lips crashed into mine.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was desperate, hungry, and full of all the emotions we’d both bottled up for years.
For me, it had been three years of isolation, of shutting myself off from the world, of burying my guilt and refusing to let anyone in.
For him, it had been two and a half years of duty, of logic, of denying the part of himself that could feel.
But now, all of that was gone, shattered by the intensity of this moment.
I kissed him back with everything I had, my hands tangling in his hair and pulling him closer like I could fuse us together. His arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the bed and pulling me into his lap, his body pressed against mine so tightly, I could feel the rapid beat of his heart.
When we finally separated, both of us were gasping for air. His forehead rested against mine again, and the intensity of his gaze burned into me.
“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice deeper somehow. “Mine to protect. Mine to love. Mine to keep.”
The possessiveness in his tone should have scared me, but it didn’t. Instead, it sent a thrill through me, a warmth pooling low in my abdomen. I’d never felt like this before—so wanted, so needed, so completely his.
“Yours,” I breathed, nodding. “Always.”
His hands moved to my shirt, tugging it over my head with a quick, efficient motion.
Then, my white lace bra came off next, and he tossed it aside.
I didn’t hesitate, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it off him.
His chest was broad and muscular, his skin warm under my fingers as I traced the faint scars near his temple.
He shuddered under my touch, his breath catching.
“I promised you earlier,” he murmured, his voice lowering to a rough whisper, “that I’d show you my less gentle side tonight.” His eyes locked on to mine, and I could see the hunger in them, the barely restrained need. “After everything you’ve been through today… Do you still want that?”
The question hung in the air between us, heavy and charged. I didn’t even have to think about it.
“Yes,” I said, my voice steady despite the way my heart was racing as I pulled off my boots, pants, and panties in a rush. “I want you to take control. To dominate me. To show me that I’m yours in every way.”
His eyes darkened, and a low growl escaped him as he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. “On your hands and knees,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
A shiver ran down my spine at the command, and I did as he said, positioning myself on the bed on all fours. Behind me, I heard the rustle of clothing and the thud of boots as he undressed, and anticipation coiled tightly in my stomach.
He entered me with a single, deep thrust that made me gasp, my fingers clutching the sheets beneath me. He was so large, stretching me in ways that should have been unbearable but instead sent a wave of pleasure crashing through me.
“Daxon,” I moaned, arching my back to take him deeper.
His hands gripped my hips to hold me in place as he began to move, setting a punishing pace that left me breathless. Each thrust was powerful, deep, and unrelenting, and I loved every second of it. He was dominating me, claiming me in a way I’d never experienced before, and it was exhilarating.
“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over me, one hand tangling in my hair. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” I gasped, my voice breaking on a moan as he hit a spot inside me that made my vision blur. “Only yours.”
He groaned, his grip on my hips tightening as he thrust harder and faster, driving me closer to the edge with each movement.
I could feel the tension building inside me, coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, sending a wave of pleasure crashing over me that left me shaking and breathless.
He followed me over the edge, his release ripping through him as he plunged himself deep inside me, his body pressing against mine as he spilled his hot seed into me.
For a long moment, we stayed like that, both of us breathing heavily, my body still trembling from the intensity of it all.
Then, with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his earlier roughness, he pulled out and gathered me into his arms, holding me close as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
“Ready for another round?” he growled softly.
“With you, always,” I replied hungrily.
His arms were strong and sure as he scooped me up off the bed, my body still humming from the intensity of what we’d just shared.
I clung to him, my fingers digging into the hard planes of his shoulders as he carried me into the bathroom.
The air was cool against my skin, but his body was a furnace, radiating heat that made me shiver in the best way.
He set me down gently, his hands lingering on my hips as he reached past me to turn on the shower.
The water hissed to life, steam rising in soft curls as it warmed.
“Come here,” he murmured, and I stepped into the shower with him, the water cascading over us in a warm, soothing rush. It felt like a cocoon, the world outside this moment fading away until it was just us—just Daxon and me, our bodies pressed together under the spray.
But he wasn’t content to let me stand there.
His hands slid down my back, pulling me closer, and then he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed me against the cool tile of the shower wall.
The contrast of the cold surface against my back and the heat of his body against my front made me gasp, and I tightened my grip on his shoulders.
“Daxon,” I breathed, my voice trembling as he positioned himself at my wet entrance.
He was so impossibly large, yet he slid into me with a slow, deliberate ease that made my breath hitch.
This time, he wasn’t rough or demanding.
He was taking his time, savoring every inch and every sensation, and it was driving me wild.
“Slow and steady,” he said, his voice a low growl. “I want to feel every part of you.”
I groaned, my head falling back against the tile as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deep, each one drawing out a whimper from my lips.
It was maddening, the way he held back, the way he made me wait, yet it was also the most exquisite torture I’d ever experienced.
My nails dug into his shoulders, and I arched against him, trying to urge him to go faster, but he only chuckled, the sound dark and possessive.
“Not yet,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my neck. “You’ll climax better like this. Slow. Deep. You’ll feel it in every part of you.”
“Daxon, please,” I begged, my voice breaking as he continued to move with that agonizing slowness. “I need more.”
He laughed again, the sound sending a thrill through me. “You don’t need more. You need this. Trust me.”
I wanted to argue, to demand he give me what I wanted, but the truth was, he was right.
The slow, deliberate pace was building something inside me, something deeper and more intense than anything I’d ever felt.
It wasn’t just physical. It was emotional, a connection that went beyond the physical act of sex.
I could feel it in the way he held me, in the way his eyes never left mine, and in the way he whispered my name like a prayer.
“You’re completely mine,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Every part of you. Every breath. Every heartbeat.”
“Completely yours,” I gasped, my body trembling as the tension inside me coiled tighter and tighter. “Always.”
And then it happened. The slow, steady rhythm of his thrusts pushed me over the edge, and I came with a loud cry, my body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me.
It was deeper and more intense than anything I’d ever experienced, and I clung to him, my fingers digging into his skin as I rode it out.
His orgasm soon hit him hard, his release shuddering through him as he buried himself deep inside me, spilling himself fully into me. For a long moment, we stayed like that, both of us breathing heavily, my body still trembling from the intensity of it all.
“See?” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. “Slow can be just as good.”
I laughed, the sound breathless and shaky, and he smiled, that genuine smile that made my heart ache. He was so much more than I’d ever expected, so much more than I’d ever dared to hope for. And at that moment, I knew I was his—completely, utterly, and forever.