When he added a finger to the work of his tongue, I grabbed fistfuls of sofa cushion, uncaring that my nails could tear the fabric apart. Every bit of my body focused on the space between my legs and the pleasure Ethan was giving me. “Oh, oh, I’m close.” My words were tiny fireworks exploding from my lips.
For a horrible second, his tongue and fingers disappeared, leaving me cold and needy. In a glorious return, his large body hovered over me, his warmth heating me, his chest pushing me back against the couch. I felt him begin to fill me. Slowly at first, then one hard thrust and I could feel his tight stomach pressed against my clitoris.
My eyes closed against the wonder of it all. He didn’t let me retreat. Our mouths clashed in a kiss as his hips flexed and he withdrew from me then slammed back home. I met him every inch of the way, squeezing my inner muscles against his hard shaft.
We didn’t speak. Our bodies and minds were fully occupied siphoning every bit of pleasure we could from each other. There were other sounds. The rasp and gasp for breath as our hearts raced, the slide of damp skin, and the muffled protest of the sofa cushion under our writhing bodies.
I was getting closer to orgasm, and this time I wasn’t letting it go. Subtly I shifted my hips to better receive his body and have him hit me at exactly the correct angle.
“Come for me,” he growled against my lips, pulling away from the kiss and lowering his head to gently bite my nipple.
“Harder,” I said on a moan, not sure whether I wanted him to bite me harder or pound into me harder. He did both. I broke apart, digging my nails into the skin on his shoulders. He grunted, but I was beyond caring that I was pressing his battered body. I could only focus on my orgasm, which was suddenly as necessary to my life as breathing.
I’d had other orgasms. This was different. It was more than a mild rippling of pleasure between my legs. This was a full-scale explosion starting at my core and echoing out every nerve ending in my body. I turned my head to the side and screamed into the pillow. I couldn’t take it, it was too much. The pleasure was overwhelming and it was ending.
Ethan’s hips kept thrusting, delivering more and more until he grunted, gave a final thrust and collapsed on top of me. I cradled him between my legs, hooking my ankles around his back. My hands went to his head, tangling in his dark short hair. His rough cheek rested against my chest. A giggle escaped as his tongue darted out to tease my nipple followed by his whole mouth suckling my breast.
The movement reminded me that infants used to be fed from a woman’s breast. If we were successful, I would learn how it felt to have a baby at my breast. “Do you think we did it?” I asked.
He didn’t reply, and kept attending to my breast. I tugged at his hair.
“Ow.” He lifted his head off my chest slightly to frown at me. “Did we do what?”
“Make a baby?”
He shrugged and climbed onto the sofa, casually lifting me out of his way to take the bottom. He maneuvered me easily until he stretched the entire length of the cushions, and I was curled against him on top. I liked it. I’d never snuggled with anyone before, especially not naked. I wondered where he’d learned to do such a thing. “Are you in a companionship contract?” I asked, suddenly feeling an unfamiliar emotion. Fear? No, jealousy.
It was a ridiculous thing to feel, especially considering I had to protect my heart against falling in love with any of the candidates. If Ethan failed there’d be another taking his place in thirty days, then possibly another and another. I settled down when he said, “No.”
“Why not? Did you meet other women on your delivery runs? Weren’t there women working at your farm?”
“There are plenty of women working at my farm, but I was working for you, remember?” He tweaked my nose and settled back against the cushions.
I allowed myself to relax against him again. “I can’t believe you did it. Did you ever dream your name would be picked? I never dreamed.” I had so many questions for him and wanted to talk.
He groaned. “Jane, I know you’ve had limited contact with men before, so let me teach you something. When a man fights eleven men, has sex for the first time in front of the world and then has sex a second time, he needs to rest.” He softened his words by smiling at me. “You had a big day too. Aren’t you tired?”
Now that he mentioned it, I realized I was. I hadn’t slept well the night before, but I couldn’t quite relax enough yet to sleep. I propped my chin on my hands and watched him as his eyes closed and his lips relaxed into a slightly open position. I gave a quiet voice command for the lights to dim and noticed for the first time the sun had gone down outside our apartment. I watched him drift to sleep for a long time then carefully got off him and went hunting for a blanket. I found one in a closet off the bathroom. I covered him and snuggled into his side to sleep.
Chapter Four
A strange noise woke me. It was unusual for me to wake in the middle of the night because of a noise. I’d lived with other people my whole life. Sleeping was never a silent operation. It took me a minute to remember I was in my own Breeder apartment, and, oh yeah, Ethan was there too. It had to be him making the noise. It couldn’t be an intruder, I had nothing to steal.
I glanced down at my naked body. Well, nothing of monetary value to steal. My body had been a prize to be stolen for six years. Throughout the years other men had attempted to touch me. I’d been assigned a eunuch guard to keep men from trying to break into our school and have sex with me, but the guard had been reassigned as soon as I’d been moved to Windy City.
The sound of the refrigerator door shutting woke me into further alertness, and I sat up on the couch to investigate. One dim light was on in the small kitchen that was divided from the living room by a counter. Ethan stood at the counter pouring juice into a tall glass. He glanced up as soon as I stood.
“Did I wake you up? Sorry, I’m not used to sleeping so long. We keep crazy hours on the farm,” he said, lowering the glass from his mouth to the counter.
“It’s okay. I’m kind of hungry too. We didn’t eat dinner last night, did we?” I walked over to investigate what he’d been doing in the kitchen. He had a piece of cold chicken and some veggies on a plate.
“The chicken is good,” he said. “Did you make it?”
I hated that I had to say no. “They’ve been delivering prepared food to me. But I can cook,” I hastened to say. “My weekly kitchen duty wasn’t all accepting deliveries and kissing the delivery boy. I like to cook.”
He grinned at the memory of our adolescent kisses. “I’m a terrible cook,” Ethan said. “A cook was the second employee I hired as soon as I could.”
“Your farm can afford to hire a cook?” I hoisted myself up to sit on the tall counter, letting my legs dangle down. I reached out and stole a carrot from his plate. My bare feet were cold so I shifted to rub them together.