by Glover, Nhys
‘Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you, and I won’t.’ He dropped his voice to that level he knew would affect her. Just using it on her made him hotter for her.
‘I cannot do that.’ Her confession was like an aphrodisiac.
‘Are you involved with someone that would make kissing me wrong?’ He didn’t want to put thoughts in her head, if they weren’t there already. This way he could see if Karl was more to her than just a friend, without giving the man’s intentions away. Competition was the last thing he needed in this moment.
‘No. Few of us are involved.’
‘What?’ The strange otherness he was becoming used to overwhelmed him again.
‘I have told you that we are sterile. That these bodies we inhabit – these cloned versions of ourselves – cannot reproduce. That means we have little interest in sexual activity. So Bonding is rare. Cara and Jac; and Jane and her Julio – you remember Jane, my friend with the copper coloured hair you met the first day – are some of the very few people who are ‘involved’.
‘I was sexually active before the Last Great Plague. And have taken sexual partners for short periods, since. But I have never felt strongly enough about any male to want to Bond with him.’
His hand dropped from her face as she spoke, the shock of her words stunning him into stillness.
‘If I am to believe you; that means you’ve lived two hundred years without sex? Without wanting sex?’
She blushed and nodded. ‘I am not unusual here.’
‘So you were faking it, when I kissed you? You weren’t interested?’
Again she blushed, and moved quickly away from him toward the bedroom door. His hand snaked out to grab her arm before she could escape.
‘Faith, I’d like an answer. You say you’re honest and never lie. Then tell me the truth.’ He couldn’t keep the hard edge out of his voice. In that moment, he felt like the biggest fool in the history of the planet. It had all been one sided. None of the sparks that had seemed to flow between them had come from her.
‘You are the exception. You do not remember, but you kissed me while you were still under sedation. It scared me then. It scared me even more when you kissed me later. But it is not you who scares me. I was trying to explain that to you the other day. I am terrified of my body’s reaction to you. What I feel. It is too raw, too intense.’
Luke had slowly drawn her back to him, as she confessed, until she stood in front of him, head down, shoulders slumped in defeat. She was so small; her head barely reached his shoulder. He felt like an over-sided oaf beside her, his clumsy hands likely to hurt her, if he lost control.
He wanted to reach out and stroke that long hair, fair back from her beautiful face. Today, she hadn’t plaited it back, as she usually did. Today, she’d followed the fashion here, and let the thigh length skeins fall like gilded water over her shoulders and down her back. Its softness beckoned, almost as if she knew how it would affect him, seeing it free.
And he couldn’t resist it. He drew her head up so he could see her eyes. Then, with tentative fingers, he stroked her silky hair. And the way she closed her eyes at his touch, pushed at his control. Suddenly, he was bunching the silk of it into his fists as he drew her body close to his own.
But, bending down to capture her mouth, put too much pressure on his sutures, and he groaned in painful frustration.
Quickly he repositioned their bodies so that he could sit down on the side of the bed. His fists still wrapped in her hair, he drew her in between his legs, and brought her head down until their faces were aligned. Finally, feeling her mouth open under his, the nagging fantasy that had kept him tortured for days, became a reality. It was actually happening. And if he had any doubts about the reality of his earlier reaction to her, it was dispelled immediately.
He wanted her in the worst way. Kissing her, probing her mouth with his lips and tongue, grazing her with his teeth – none of it was enough. The machine gun shots of electricity mowed him down. Helpless to resist, not wanting to resist, he let each zing pulse through him, racketing up his arousal, incrementally.
All he had done was kiss this woman, and he was needier than he had ever been. Something about this woman. Something about what happened between them, took him out of himself, and into her – in a way that had nothing to do with their bodies, and everything to do with their souls, their essences.
Hell, he was having a spiritual moment! He, who had never seriously believed in God, or Heaven, or any of the rest of the malarkey his mother had drilled into him as a kid, was transcending. But this was nothing like those moments when he thought he’d died and she was his angel.
No, this was different. This was something else. And it terrified him.
But the driving force of his arousal was more powerful than his terror of the unknown. He would have this woman, claim her as his own. Nothing else compared with that pulsing imperative.
Faith had known this moment would come, as surely as she knew she would draw her next breath. Keeping her distance from him in the last three days hadn’t helped. It had only shortened her fuse. Being alone with him, in his new apartment, had made any thought of distance impossible. She wanted his kisses. She wanted his hands in her hair, the taste of him on her tongue. In her whole life, she had never felt such fevered desire.
And now it had come, the moment she had anticipated with dread and delight. Now he was burning her like a brand, wherever he touched her. Mouth, shoulders, arms, everywhere. He seemed to know exactly what would set her pulse racing, what she needed to push her farther into the chaos of excess sensation.
‘Let me see you,’ he croaked, his voice no longer velvet, but sandpaper chafing her senses. The exquisite pain of it stole air from her lungs. Without thought, she reached up and released the invisible catches at her shoulders. First one small breast, and then the other, was revealed.
The look on his face as he watched her was as erotic as anything he did to her. It was as if he devoured her with his eyes, swallowing her down greedily, so he could look some more. He couldn’t seem to get enough of the sight of her. When the fabric of her tunic had finally slipped down her hips to the floor, and she stood naked, but for the tiny white undershorts they all wore beneath their clothes, he sat frozen, staring at her. He stared for so long, she started to worry he was no longer interested in what he saw.
‘I do not please you?’ The words were no more than a breath.
He blinked rapidly and met her gaze. They burned like the fires of hell. No, he had not lost interest. Those eyes told her that.
‘You are more beautiful than I could have imagined.’ That raw sound again scraped at her senses. Not voice; more guttural groan, filled with sounds that imitated words. But their meaning was clear. And it drove her further out of her depth.
Very slowly, he brought his arms up so that his large, shapely hands could wrap reverently over her breasts. Not enough. She was too small for those hands. Why did she have to be this tiny? But the sensation of his warm hands against her skin drove such thoughts from her mind. It felt so good.
‘Perfect…’ he whispered, closing his fingers around the soft curves, and then releasing them, so he could use his thumb and fingertips to arouse the pink nubs at their centre. When she caught her breath, he smiled. It was a knowing, dangerous smile.
While she tried to find breath for her lungs, his hands moved away from her breasts, stroking lower, as his mouth found one of the pointed peaks that had just had his attention. The warm wetness surrounding that sensitive point had her jerking like a puppet against him.
‘Oh, god!’ she cried, unable to believe the sensations his mouth was creating inside her. Her legs literally gave way beneath her. But she didn’t fall. Instead, she leaned in to him, and used his strong torso to keep herself upright, so he could continue to use his tongue to stroke the peak of her nipple, as he sucked her deep into his hot mouth.
His hands moved lower, skidding across skin, setting off tiny explosions of del
ight everywhere they touched. Then, when they reached the barrier of the skin tight undershorts, his fingers slid under them, and began sliding them down her thighs.
But his shoulder injury halted progress, and she reluctantly drew away from his mouth and hands, so that she could remove the last impediment from her body. And before she returned to his eager arms, she did a little undressing of her own.
With shaking fingers, she released the catches at the shoulders of his tunic, letting it fall to his waist. Then she unbuckled his belt and let it drop to the bed. His well-muscled chest sprinkled with fair hair, stole her breath away. And the white bandage added a vulnerability to his strength.
Looking lower, the arousal she had been aware of, was now clearly visible, outlined by the soft fabric that pooled over it. She let her hands follow her eyes, wanting to feel its hard length. The groan that accompanied her first exploratory touch was enough to encourage more.
‘Stand up,’ she ordered softly, wanting to remove the tunic caught at his lap, and the undershorts that kept her target from reach.
Wordlessly he rose, and his moan as she slid her fingers under the tight fabric of his shorts and skidded them down his long legs, thrilled her. His hands ran through her hair as she moved lower and lower down his body.
‘I like this fashion. This long hair you all wear. So beautiful…’
She moved back up his body, now that he’d stepped out of the shorts. ‘Cara and Jane have prettier hair than me. Mine is just mouse brown.’
He fisted the skeins, to bring her head up to him, so he could meet her gaze with his own. ‘The colour is beautiful. Don’t compare yourself to others. No one is more beautiful than you are, to me.’
She drank in his words like a balm to her soul. He preferred her to others, even the beautiful Jane. How could this be possible? But she didn’t doubt him, as the look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. Their blue depths were dark with passion and need.
Leaning in, she wrapped her arms around his naked body, feeling skin on skin for the first time. His hands stroked at her hair as she listened to the rapid fire of his heartbeat beneath her ear. Thank God that bullet missed his heart. That its beat might have been silenced forever was unthinkable.
‘I am scared,’ she confessed, in a whisper she half hoped he wouldn’t hear.
‘So am I. But whatever this is between us… it’s good. It’s worth pushing through the fear for.’
She wanted to tell him that loneliness awaited her on the other side of the fear, if he couldn’t find a way to stay here with her. But this was no time for talk of the future. This was a moment to savour, for its own sake. It was the moment when she found out what it truly was to be one with another being.
Lifting her head, her arms still wrapped around his naked back, his heavy arousal pressed against her stomach, she smiled at him. When he smiled back, and tried to lower his head to hers, he swore loudly in frustration. It made them both laugh.
‘Next time I rescue you, I’ll try not to get shot in the chest. Maybe the butt would work better.’
Laughing lightly, Faith gently pushed him down until he sat on the bed again. Being small was so annoying at times. But once he had her drawn in close, and her beasts were within easy reach of his mouth, she forgot about logistics and went with the feeling.
And the feeling built and built, until she could stand it no more. She wanted him so desperately that she gave him a little push to flatten him to the bed, so that she could have what she needed.
‘Angel, wait, I haven’t got… protection. We can’t…’ It was his turn to be embarrassed.
‘You cannot get me pregnant, Lukas. And we do not have sexually transmitted diseases anymore…’
He shook his head and whistled softly. ‘I keep treating you like a sweet little farm girl from back home. But you aren’t, are you? You talk about sex like a doctor…’
She crawled up his body until her face aligned with his. ‘Do you know many doctors who do this?’ With a quick movement she took his pulsing length in her hand, and guided it smoothly to her core. One swift movement, and she impaled herself on him, crying out in pain as he tore her maiden head.
Chapter Ten
‘You lied to me,’ he cried. ’You’re a virgin!’
His absolute horror made her chuckle. It was so delightfully old fashioned. But then, he was old fashioned. He came from a time when female sexual liberation hadn’t yet begun. Women were either good girls you married, or sluts you enjoyed. She wondered what group he now placed her in.
‘I have not had sex in this clone. I am not even sure I had sex in the last one. Please Lukas, can we talk about this later. I cannot think straight right now. Let me move…’
She began to shift her torso, so her thighs carried its weight. Then she slowly lifted herself off him and then sunk back down, until he filled her completely. Never had she experienced anything so fulfilling. For the first time in her life, she felt whole. She looked down at Lukas and saw an expression of utter bliss softening his harsh features.
‘Good?’ she asked with a gasp, as a wave of pleasure washed over her.
‘Angel, good don’t come close to …’ he let out a low groan of pleasure, and jerked his hips up hard to impale her deeply once more. She smiled down at him until he took control of their rhythm. With his hands on her hips, he began to increase the pace of the long, deep thrusts that had her crying out with each piston-like stab.
One minute she was reaching for something, and the next it was hers. With an exultant cry, she plunged over the edge and let go. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over and through her, as bliss sucked her down.
Somewhere, far away, she heard him cry out and join her, as he pressed himself so deeply into her body that she was sure they would never part.
Sobbing with delight, she collapsed onto his chest. And immediately jerked back up, when she heard his sharp, painful intake of breath. His wound. She had forgotten his wound.
Dragging her torso up so that her weight didn’t fall on his chest, she studied the bandage desperately for signs of blood, stroking the skin around the spot all the while.
‘Did I hurt you?’ she demanded, dragging her hair back from her face, so she could look up at him.
He grinned painfully at her. ‘That kinda pain I can take any day of the week.’ But though he tried to cover it with humour, she could see that he was hurting. His damp face had taken on a grey hue.
Slowly and reluctantly, she disengaged their bodies. It felt as if she was losing something precious as she did so. Luke seemed reluctant to let her go too, when she finally drew away.
‘Sorry, Angel, any other time I’d keep you just where you were but…’
‘But you are just four days out of major surgery. We should not have done this. You have probably torn the sutures open.’
She moved around so that she could look more closely at the white bandage covered by adhesive plastic. So far there was no blood seeping through.
‘Come here,’ he demanded and pulled her up so that she lay on his right side, her head resting on his shoulder. ‘Stop fretting. The ache is easing already. I’ll be fine. No damage done.’
‘I was selfish. I should have thought…’
‘Faith, stop. I was the one who started this, and I don’t regret one minute. I feel… fine. Boy, is that an understatement.’ He laughed carefully. Then he changed tack, becoming more serious.
‘I think you need to tell me about these clowns. How can you say you weren’t a virgin when you so obviously were? You should have told me. I wouldn’t have…’
She stroked his chest to sooth his confusion.
‘Not clowns, Lukas, clones. After the Last Great Plague those of us who survived, the one in a thousand of us who survived, were still terribly weak, our immune systems compromised. If the scientists had not created clones from our DNA, it is likely the human race would have died out, there and then.’ She paused, fighting the painful memories that tried to surfac
e with her explanation. Ruthlessly, she pushed them down, and went on.
‘Cloning mammals was common by the end of your century. By taking a sample of a subject’s cells, from their skin or hair for instance, scientist could replicate those cells and grow more, using their unique blue print, until they had created a whole new being.
‘Cloning humans was banned on moral grounds, but scientists still experimented with it, trying to create the super-warrior. When they developed accelerated cellular growth, they thought they had hit the mother lode. They could grow a fully mature, adult human in a little under a month.
‘But the problem was that these cloned humans couldn’t live outside their support environments. They did not have life of their own. So the next step was to try to transfer the Life Force, the Consciousness, of a living man into one of the clones. It worked, as long as the transfer was between DNA exact replicants. Um… as long as it was into a body made from your own cells.
‘When the Last Great Plague was over, what was left of the governments of the world formed themselves into the Gaian Confederacy and offered all the survivors a cloned version of themselves – a perfect version of themselves – into which they transferred their Consciousness.’
Lukas shifted beneath her uneasily. She knew she was giving him too much to digest. She should stop now. But she couldn’t.
‘As the human race would have died out otherwise – the plague having sterilised us all – we chose to continue to live, changing bodies every time they deteriorated with age. I looked very much like I do now, back in 2020. But I have grown old in three bodies since then. This one I have had for only five years, and I forgot that it was virginal.’
Although Luke didn’t move, she felt him withdraw from her. It came as a relief when he finally put into words what she already sensed from him.
‘Faith, I need to be alone now. I need to think…’
More devastated than she thought possible, she slowly climbed off his bed and took her clothes into his bathroom. Turning on the shower, she washed away the signs of their joining.