“Jane, stay with me. We’re not done here.”
“We’re not?” I asked dumbly, now realizing that he hadn’t come yet.
He shook his head seriously. It gave me a glimpse into Ethan Green, successful businessman. He was the clear master of this world we’d created.
“I’m going to keep fucking you, and you’re going to come again.”
“I am?”
He answered silently, letting his actions speak. He slowly withdrew partially. It created a shockwave of sensation between my thighs. I wasn’t sure Icouldhandle more. “I—”
“Don’t talk. Just feel. Feel my cock pushing into you.” He nudged a little farther. “Do you feel me?”
I nodded, my eyes wide. A little mewl escaped from the back of my throat. The sensation of him sliding slowly and deeper into me might be my undoing. I started to feel lightheaded, as if my mind were floating above, watching my body have sex on the kitchen counter.
“Feel me, Jane,” Ethan commanded. His finger found my swollen clitoris and started a circling pattern that had awareness slamming back into my body with a vengeance. I hadn’t believed him when he said I’d come again. I was a believer now.
My body welcomed his over and over as his fingers moved in counterpart, squeezing more feeling than I knew possible. He was right. I was going to come again. The pleasure was laced with a twinge of pain at the overwhelming nature of it all.
I didn’t lie back passively enjoying the orgasm. I bucked my hips. My fingers dug into the lip of the countertop. My head and neck twisted from side to side. I screamed. Dimly I felt his penis jerk, releasing hot come deep inside. I couldn’t control my breathing and my lungs expanded and contracted, desperately seeking air.
I felt like we were the only two people in the world who knew this kind of pleasure. In a way we were. Only a select few got to enjoy sex. We were the lucky ones.
With my legs wrapped around him, Ethan picked me up off the counter and carried me easily to the bedroom. We collapsed together on the big mattress, with our bodies entwined. I was shivering from the orgasm that echoed through my nerve endings. I’d had no idea sex could go there, but I was too tired to think about it more. Holding Ethan close, I fell asleep.
* * *
The next morning a loud knock at our door jolted me to awareness. I stretched, and yawned, prepared to ignore the knock, but it grew more insistent. Ethan’s warm body next to mine was too great a lure. At a third knock, he growled and strode out of the bedroom, leaving me tangled in the thick covers aching for his body heat.
I heard male and female voices that got closer. The doorway to the bedroom filled. Ethan stood there with two people behind him. “Jane,” he said. “We have to get up.”
I struggled to sit against the metal lattice headboard and blinked at the unfamiliar people who were now fully in the room, laying out a case on the low wood dresser across from the bed. “Who are you?” I asked.
The woman turned to me. “We’re the doctors assigned to you.”
“Doctors?” I asked, feeling a bit foolish. Of course there would be doctors. How else would they know if and when I got pregnant? As I asked, Ethan was being guided to the other side of the bed by the male doctor. Ethan stood several inches taller than the other male.
The female doctor walked to me with a tablet. “We will check in with you every seventy-two hours.”
“Why?” I scooted to the side of the bed, conscious of Ethan’s and my nudity, but the doctors seemed oblivious.
“You’re the Breeder,” the woman answered, as if it were obvious. She stuck a thermometer under my tongue before I could get any more questions out. A flexible sticky patch was slapped over my heart to get the rest of my vitals. I knew the drill and sat quietly to not interfere with the results.
A second later, she removed the patch and attached it to her electronic tablet, which displayed the results. I waited. She didn’t seem disposed to share anything with me. I was aware of a similar drill happening on the other side of the bed. I grinned over at Ethan, who sat on the edge of the bed watching the male doctor.
Finally both doctors seemed satisfied with their data and started packing up their equipment. “How soon could you tell if she’s pregnant?” Ethan asked.
“Within forty-eight hours of conception,” the female doctor replied then turned to me. “You’ve been taking your vitamins and supplements?”
I nodded.
“Good. You’re setting the right pace for success. Three incidents of intercourse within twelve hours is excellent.” She glanced at Ethan. “We have supplements for you, if you need assistance.” Her eyes flickered to Ethan’s lower body then back to me. She glanced at her watch. “It’s been eight hours since the last attempt. You should probably engage once we leave.”
I felt my jaw lower and looked to see how Ethan was handling the news we were being watched. He didn’t look at all disturbed. As soon as the apartment was cleared of medical personnel, I turned to him. “Are there—”
“Hang on,” he said, standing and reaching for my hand. He tugged me into the bathroom and turned on the shower. When the water was hot, we stepped inside. “We can talk privately in here, but I’m sure they’re watching.”
My head swiveled as I scanned the small stall, trying to see cameras. Ethan’s back was to the water stream, and moisture beaded on his chest.