As her ragged breathing calmed slightly, he sped up and again she plummeted and rose on the waves of his harsh sea. That second orgasm had been enough though, and now it was his turn. He held her in place and, with one last firm thrust, allowed himself to release all the pent up heat he'd been holding back.
He groaned deeply, pulled back slightly and then slid back more slowly as he pulsed inside her tight hold, spewing the last few drops.
Breathing hard, he leaned down over her closely and she held him tight – inside and outside. "So good," he mumbled against her hair.
After a few moments, he withdrew and rolled to lie between Alyssa and Nina. Nina's eyes were wide, a twinkle of naughty pleasure there. "That looked pretty nice," she said.
Alyssa smiled and squirmed against the sheets in agreement.
"It was pretty nice, brat," Michael agreed.
"When do you think I'll be healed enough to…"
He looked at her with a grin. "You'll have to be the judge of that."
"You know, Michael … sir… Your secret is your great big–"
"Language!" he teased, reaching over to tickle her waist.
"Stop, stop! I was going to say brain, of course. Your great big brain!"
Alyssa giggled.
Chapter 17
Michael awoke, pleased to realize that Nina had slept through the night. He checked his chronograph. "Shit," he growled. He'd overslept, something that was quite rare for his military habits. Unfortunately, he was also stiffly erect.
He'd have to deal with it quickly and go. Nina stirred next to him. He put his hand on his hardness and began to stroke himself, the quickest way he knew to get off. After just a few strokes, he felt Nina's hand on his and he turned to find her up on an elbow watching him intently.
"Let me," she asked softly.
"I'm late," he warned.
"I won't cook breakfast first," she teased, taking over his strokes with her own hand.
To his surprise, she was quite good at it. He was treading the line of pleasure within a few minutes.
Alyssa pressed up against him with a sigh. "How handsome you are, Master."
"Mmmm," was all he could say. He was just too close.
Nina stroked with very firm pressure, her small hand barely able to circle him. He took hold himself, and she moved to pet his testicles. The last few strokes needed a harder hand. That was enough, though, to set off the pulsing stream that shot over his belly. He moaned softly. Even before he'd finished spurting, both women were greedily licking at the white jelly.
He sighed, caught his breath, and gave each girl a deep kiss before he rushed from the bed.
Michael was the last one into the conference room, a little mussed, but content. Laricon sat at the head of the table. He looked worn out, but his eyes gleamed.
"Michael. We were beginning to think you had forgotten us."
Michael smiled sheepishly. "Overslept."
Walker snorted suggestively and Michael threw him a quick grin.
"Well, gentlemen," Laricon began. "We've done it. Ganymede is consolidated into the country of Laricon. I think you all deserve a pat on the back for your fine efforts." He looked at a notepad. "And there will be a handsome monetary bonus as well."
The men smiled happily.
"You all know about my son." There were murmurs of sympathy which he waved off. "I began my mourning for him years ago and I'll mourn no more. But that leaves us with the issue of inheritance. Laricon is a feudal system, and consequently the first son should be the inheritor of any estate. Mine is no different, of course, though it carries with it the position of leader of the country and, now, ruler of the moon Ganymede."
He steepled his fingers on the table top. "One of you will hold the title of Great Man upon my death, barring the unlikely event that I should have a son between now and then. Should that be the case, one of you would be named Regent, holding the country in good stead until my son reaches an age and maturity to rule as Great Man."
The fellows looked around at each other.
"All of you are capable and qualified to lead. Michael here has done an excellent job in my absence, for example." He looked down at his notepad. "I have decided to make a contest of it. Each of you currently has a consort, have you not?"
There were nods.
"Very well. The first one of you who can bring me proof that his female is bearing will be the man named to rule when I die." There were murmurs. "I have chosen this method as an illustration of how important I feel it is that you gentlemen, above all men in Laricon, produce the future generation of offspring that will lead us into further greatness."
"Sir," Liebmann said. "Isn't it possible that one of the women is pregnant now and we just don't know it yet?"
Laricon nodded. "I suggest you find out."
"And what about those of us with two consorts, sir?" Donaldson asked.
"You have twice the chances, if you don't exhaust yourself first."
Everyone laughed.
"Do spares count? Or bang-girls?" This from Fisk.
Laricon shook his head. "No. Only the consorts you currently support." Then he frowned at Fisk. "Surely you're not using bang-girls, Fisk."
Fisk reddened but shook his head. "No, sir. I just wondered."
"Any more questions?" The old man's eyes searched the table. "No? Then I'll leave you all to the day-to-day business. I find that I'm tired and need to rest."
He stood and all the others stood respectfully while he walked to the door. "Michael," he said pausing in the doorframe. "May I see you for a moment?"
"Of course, sir." They walked out into the hallway a meter.
"Have you checked on Nina, yet?"
Michael nodded. "Yes and no. I know where she is, but I have yet to get test results."
Laricon nodded. "It's a specious hope, but… Well, let me know when you've got the results."
"Of course, sir."
Laricon patted him on the shoulder and departed.
Michael returned to the conference room to finish the daily meeting.
After the meeting, he got busy with administrative chores and reports on the Southern Continent and East Shores situations. Walker interrupted his reading later in the afternoon.
"Well, I'm not the guy," he said, lounging in the open doorway.
Michael arched an eyebrow. "No? What guy?"
Walker came in and sat down, looking at Michael skeptically. "The inheritor, O'Malley. Where have you been?"
"Oh. Oh, that guy." Michael smiled quickly. He pushed data pads of reports around on his desk. "I've been working, where have you been?"
"Getting Sally to the med-tech, of course. All the other guys, too. Don't you care about the job?"
Michael leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, of course. I just got lost in reports."
"Well, shit, man. You'd better get Alyssa tested and find out if you have a chance. Someone else might bring The Great Man proof and beat you out."
Michael nodded.
Walker rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder about you, O'Malley." He rose and sauntered out the door.
Michael tidied up his desk and hurried home. It wasn't as though he was seriously looking to win the contest; that was utterly pointless as all of Laricon would belong to the Federation shortly anyway. But he didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb by ignoring the game either. Furthermore, he needed to provide some sort of test results to Laricon for Nina. The old man had asked twice now.
The women greeted him properly when he came in. Nina was feeling well enough to walk today, but complained that sitting for more than a few minutes was still too painful. Michael quickly explained the inheritance scheme to the girls. Nina greeted it with a snort, and Alyssa found it exciting despite its irrelevance in the coming changes.
They put one of Alyssa's gowns on Nina (who was still borrowing Michael's shirts), and though it was tight across the bust and too short, it was less conspicuous by far. Michael didn't want Nina's appearance back at the p
alace to draw more attention than could be helped.
They went down the halls to the women's enclave where they were admitted immediately and greeted by Matron.
"Master Michael! You're the last one, you know! And I see you've brought The Great Man's Nina as well." Obviously she hadn't been told about Nina's fall from grace.
"Yes. We're last, eh?"
"Oh yes!" she bubbled. "Everyone's astir I assure you."
"Any winner yet, Matron?"
She smiled. "That's not for me to tell, Master Michael."
He nodded. "Well, let's do it."
Alyssa was first. She lay on the gynecological table in the med-tech room and put her feet in the stirrups. Monica, looking frazzled from all the commotion, scanned her with a hand-held quickly. "Your last monthly bleed?"
Alyssa pursed her lips as she thought. "Almost a month."
"Too early," Monica sighed. "They've all been too early today," she commented. She got a thick wand out of a drawer. It was about thirty centimeters long with a fat ovoid bulb at one end. "This will be a little uncomfortable," she warned Alyssa as she smeared some sort of clear jelly on the big bulb of the wand. "But it will give us the answer."
"Ugh! Cold!"
"Sorry," Monica muttered, sliding the wand deep into Alyssa's femininity.
"Ouch!"
"That's the cervix. Are you bruised?" She shot Michael a damning look. "I have to be right up against it to get a reading," Monica explained.
Michael held Alyssa's hand. They waited a minute for the device to scan and process the results. It beeped, and Monica withdrew it gently. It was slightly bloody.
"What's that about?" Michael asked, worried that he'd truly done some damage to the small female.
"Well, that would be corroborative. The readings are negative, and she's starting her monthly bleed as well."
"Oh." Alyssa was clutching his hand in disappointment. He helped her off the table. "It's okay, baby. Things come in their own time."
"But I don't want to stay in the enclave, Master," Alyssa said, her voice breaking with a sob.
"Why would you? Because you're bleeding?"
She nodded, teary. They both knew that their time together was limited by the upcoming Federation assault.
"Well, we'll just forego that custom. You go get whatever you need for your … you know… And send Nina in for her test, okay?"
"Really, sir?"
He nodded and smiled reassuringly. It had been ten years since he'd had a regular girlfriend and had to deal with all the usual feminine cycles, but it was all part of the experience. "Yes, really. Go on."
She smiled a watery smile.
Nina came in on Alyssa's exit. "Well?"
Michael shook his head. "Nope."
"Too bad. That girl would like nothing better than to remain barefoot and pregnant for life," Nina opined as she climbed onto the table and fit her feet in the stirrups.
"She's a fine example," Monica said.
Nina snorted.
"Hush, Nina," Michael warned.
Monica had finished cleaning the wand. "Your last monthly bleeding?" she asked as if by rote.
"Uh. I don't know. A few weeks maybe. Maybe four."
Monica's response was a sigh and she got the clear jelly out once more. "This will be a little uncomfortable."
Nina eyed the wand. "Yeah, I'd say so."
Slowly, Monica plied the device up Nina's channel until she bumped up against the cervical barrier. They all waited a minute and the thing beeped.
Monica withdrew it and checked the computer readout on her display. "Positive."
"Oh shit," Nina whispered, her eyes wide.
Michael felt his stomach drop several centimeters. "Paternity?" he asked, feeling shell-shocked.
"Well, it must be The Great Man's," Monica said, frowning.
"Uh, I need the data file," Michael explained.
"Oh. Right." Monica typed a few strokes into her computer. "It's checking the database. Wait a second. Let me do that again." She frowned at the screen and entered several more commands. Then looked up at Michael and pointed to a line on the display. It read: DNA match confirmed: O'Malley.
"I'd say," Monica said, wiping down the wand. "You're in a shitload of trouble, sir."
Michael blinked and waited for his guts to realign.
"What?" Nina said with irritation, trying to sit up.
"We're having a baby, Nina," he said softly.
She sighed. "Thanks for knocking me up, O'Malley."
He helped her from the table, feeling somewhat dazed. "My pleasure, brat."
Monica shook her head and handed him the data pad.
***
Alyssa sobbed her congratulations upon being told the news. "Oh, Nina! Oh you're so lucky!" She hugged Nina tight and smiled up at Michael. "Your first child, sir! This is so wonderful." Then she broke down in tears again.
Michael wasn't sure if wonderful was the word he'd have used to describe the experience. Certainly it was … different. Not surprising really. He'd known he'd get caught by his own lack of caution. But these circumstances just weren't the kind he'd ever pictured himself in when he'd contemplated fatherhood.
Back in their room, Alyssa hustled Nina back into the bed and ordered her to rest. Nina rolled her eyes, but refrained from telling the younger woman off. It was Alyssa's way of participating in the pregnancy, she realized, and as she'd come to care for the girl, she didn't want to deny her this small thing.
Michael paced, tapping the data pad on his palm. "This complicates things quite a bit," he muttered.
"Should have thought of that a bit sooner, shouldn't you?" Nina prodded.
He gave her a warning look.
"Sir," she added.
He sighed and raked his hair back. "Yeah, well, it doesn't matter now." He stopped to gaze out the window. He was going to be a father. What an awesome responsibility! But where was he going to be when the baby was born? Some slimy hellhole, trying to get tactical information from a sleazebag, most likely. It was not a pretty picture.
And, in the meantime, he had to give some sort of answer to Laricon. And the answer had best not get him killed.
"I've got to go out," he said.
Alyssa and Nina looked at each other.
"I'll be back late. Don't wait up for me." He kissed each on the forehead. "And if anything happens to me, you call Walker. Understand? He'll help you."
Alyssa nodded.
Nina caught his arm before he could walk away. "Do we need to worry that something will happen to you, O'Malley?"
He shook his head and smiled. "No, brat. I'm a slippery bastard. I'll be fine."
She nodded, but the worry didn't leave her eyes. "Okay."
Chapter 18
Michael made his way to Laricon's suite and knocked at the door politely.
"Come in," came the old man's voice from inside.
Laricon was eating, being served by Jan, the spare.
"Sir. I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner."
Laricon waved Michael to a chair. "Have some wine."
Michael sat at the table and poured himself a glass of the sweet white wine Laricon preferred. "Thank you, sir."
"I presume you have the news I've been awaiting."
Michael took the data pad out of his breast pocket. "Yes, sir. She's pregnant."
Laricon paused, then sent Jan away with a gesture. "My Nina? It's certain?"
Michael nodded.
"Praise the gods!"
"Well, sir, there's–"
"This is phenomenal, Michael, my boy!"
"Sir, I–"
Laricon stood and drank his wine down in a toast. "Just when I thought it was over–"
"Sir!" Michael interrupted sharply. The old man looked at him, his eyes twinkling, his yellow smile stretching from ear to ear. "Sir, it's my baby."
Laricon frowned. "Yours?"
Michael nodded and handed over the data pad. "DNA confirmed."
"God damn it!" Laricon r
oared and flung his wine glass at a wall. His elderly hands fisted as his face turned red with fury.
"Please, sir. Sit down. Your heart–"
"Damn you, Michael!" he shouted. "Damn you for doing this to me!"
Michael remained calm. "You did it to yourself, sir, when you put Nina and me together for that one afternoon. That must've been–"
Laricon was pacing now. "Oh yes! You're so god damned virile! Your testicles practically explode with sperm at the sight of a pussy!" He stomped back to the table. "God damn you!"
"No one has to know, sir."
Laricon stopped his pacing and looked daggers at Michael. "What did you say?"
Michael shrugged. "Why tell anyone who the father is? The records of the DNA scan can be erased and if you claim paternity, who's to say different?"
The old man rubbed his left arm absent-mindedly. "I don't like this. To raise your son as mine…"
Michael looked down at his hands and back up to Laricon. "After the child is born, divorce her. I will take her and raise the child myself."
"It wouldn't be proper for a Councilman to raise my child."
"Aren't you the one to say what is and isn't proper, sir?"
Laricon seemed to consider this. He sat back down in his chair and narrowed his eyes to look at Michael. "Your son would inherit it all."
Michael nodded. "There's no getting around that, sir. And, you know, you're presuming it will be a boy. There's no telling that for weeks yet. It could very well be a girl."
Laricon snorted. "The way you fucked her – it'll be a boy," he scoffed.
"You know that's not how–"
"And why would you want a bang-girl for a consort anyway?"
Michael retained his cool, though his guts were churning. "She was never cut, sir."
"What? I ordered–"
"Yes, sir, and I rescinded the order."
"How dare you!" Laricon exploded, more weakly this time. He was beginning to sag with fatigue. "I should have you executed!"
Michael looked the old man in the eye. "Perhaps. But I love her. I couldn't allow her to be maimed and for a few days I had the power to stop it."
Laricon sat back in his chair, his eyes studying Michael closely. "Love is a dangerous emotion, Michael," he said. "I loved a woman once and now she's dead. I haven't loved another since."
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