by Zena Zion
He caught her hips and she caught her breath as he slid into her, heat rising as he slowly pressed deeper, taking his time to fill her completely with no discomfort. She sighed, clinging to his shoulders as she slowly opened for him, her toes curling as he gave shallow thrusts to seat himself within her.
He looked into her eyes as he reached her deepest point, and for a moment it was as though she could see past his eyes into something deeper. Something was opening up for her, bringing her deeper than their bodies could ever go.
He began to move, and every rock of his hips was a wave on the ocean, swelling and breaking on the shore of her, shaking her to her core and carrying away some part of her every time. She trembled as pleasure washed over her, drowned her, and then receded only to surge again. Caught up in the tides, she couldn't tear her eyes from his. She felt like she was tumbling, falling into something new and strange.
Warmth was blossoming within her that almost burned. She could feel everything at once, so close and real it was blinding. The texture of his skin under her hands, the weight of him within her, his breath against her throat, the way her muscles strained as she wrapped her legs around him to bring him closer.
The silk beneath her, the breeze from the window that cooled her fevered skin and brought the scent of snow. And yet it was all so distant.
There was a strange music in her head that reminded her of Rhiannon's voice. A sweet, sustained note or the sound of the ocean surf, carrying her forward as ecstasy grew.
He was right, it was different. When she felt him swell and spill within her it was like the birth of a star, bright and electric, leaving her blinded, wordless and breathless with pleasure.
The whole universe had spiraled down to a single point, just his eyes staring into hers, and now it was reborn again, exploding out in a crash of joyous sound and color and sensory exhilaration running over her skin like ice water.
She'd never felt so awake, or so connected to everything else. He was staring at her still, and she could see that he could feel it too and was as amazed by it as she was. He kissed her, soft and passionate, and she tangled her hands in his hair.
She could feel his heart beating and knew hers was beating in perfect time with his and always would. She understood now, why the bond was so powerful, and why it could never be felt with another.
She'd glimpsed the webbing behind the world, seen how everything was connected. To her, to him, to everything that ever was. The bond had always been there, the cords of their lives entangled from the beginning.
It was only now that they saw it, and doubt and fear melted away. They knew each other as they knew their own souls. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore.
They held each other, still shaking in the knowledge of their importance to one another, and in the afterglow pleasure. He tore his eyes from hers to bury his face in her hair, and Jasmine looked away towards the window and the glittering mountains and all the endless potential of life. She was going to live. And she was going to live.
***
PREVIEW OF ‘SUUROGATE TO THE ALIEN’ BY ZENA ZION
Preface
Avery Hawthorne sat at her kitchen table, wearily rubbing at her eyes. With a groan, she slumped her head on the cool surface.
“Come on Ave.” she muttered. “There has to be something better out there.”
Once again, she perused the employment ads that were spread out before her, virtually covering the entire surface of the Formica tabletop.
The yellow highlighter in her hand hovered helplessly above the papers. It was as if the writing utensil was waiting as anxiously as Avery herself, for that elusive job offering that would finally help her pay the bills.
It was not as if she did not have a job. However, the grueling hours waitressing in the local, small-town pub was barely earning her enough to keep food on the table, let alone pay the ridiculous rent of this piece-of-crap studio apartment.
“Just gotta find the one.” She repeated, like some strange mantra. The cadence, while soothing to her anxious mind, did little to encourage reasonably paying opportunities.
She was just about to throw in the towel, or newspaper as the situation would have it, when her eyes came to rest upon a miniscule advertisement that she had not noticed earlier.
The ad read:
Help Wanted. Female applicant needed for temporary marital arrangement. Must offer at least one year’s commitment. All living conditions and expenses will be provided for the contractual period. Substantial severance bonus will be given upon completion of the contract if requirements are met satisfactorily. Applicant will be required to submit to a medical examination prior to acceptance.
Avery felt the air rush out of her lungs. The ad sounding archaic, and slightly creepy but, it could not hurt to at least look in to. Right?
A substantial severance bonus and one year with no expenses. Her eyes darted to the past-due notice that lay on the nearby countertop. In red ink the notice declared, PAYMENT DUE WITHIN 7 DAYS OF FINAL NOTICE OR EVICTION.
That was two days ago. There were no additional hours available at the pub, she had already been asking for weeks. Ron did not want to have to pay any of his employees overtime, despite the fact that the hourly rate for a waitress was laughable even with overtime.
Avery’s mind kept going back to the severance pay. With that money, she could survive for long enough to find a well-paying job. Or, even go back to school to finish her degree.
She read the ad again. Marital arrangement? Like, a mail order bride? She grimaced at the thought. To be fair, her marriage options were looking pretty bleak.
Modern females were expected to be rail-thin with legs for days and bleached blonde hair. Avery fit none of those requirements.
While she was not exactly short, her five-foot-eight frame could barely be considered leggy. Her brown, nearly black, hair was the furthest thing from blonde she could achieve without artificial coloring. And most significantly, her hourglass curves went out of style some hundred years ago, not long after the new millennium.
Did she really think that she would fall madly in love in the next year? No. Point blank. That was her answer. No.
She did not foresee any prospects. Unless she considered a relationship with one of the grotesque elderly men who eyed her with lust while she served them burgers and beer at the pub. She suppressed a groan of agony. She did not want to even consider their grimy hands coming anywhere near her.
So, would committing one year to some stranger really set her that far back in her plans for future marital bliss? Again, the answer was, no.
“A mail order bride?” She whispered as if saying the words out loud would somehow make it more real. She waited for some dramatic sign against the concept. The ceiling crashing down. The ad catching fire. A sudden explosion of thunder on this sunny afternoon.
Nothing happened.
Avery moved over to her ancient desktop computer.
She drummed her fingers on the keyboard, as if somehow the response would write itself.
She checked the website listed on the ad. She logged in and hurriedly filled out a basic profile, including photo submission. With quick jab she pressed Enter, sending the form off into the great unknown.
Instantly, Avery covered her face with her hands and released an embarrassed cry.
What had she just done?
Maybe, she would not even get a response. Then, she could just forget about it. She tried to tell herself that it was a hoax.
She paced the small kitchen, taking only three steps before spinning on her heel and repeating the action in the opposite direction.
Fifteen minutes later, she heard the distinct chime of her email.
Rushing over to the computer, she anxiously opened the message. Already, a response from the profile submission.
The Email Read:
Stage 1: Complete. Please call the number listed below for the preliminary interview.
She picked up her cell phone, holding it
carefully so that screen did not detach from the base, as often happened. At this point, she reminded herself, she could not afford to at least look into the position.
She dialed the number and held her breath as it rung.
“Lanox Corp. How may I direct your call?” The cool female voice answered on the third ring.
“I… I’m calling about the ad.” She stammered, not knowing what exactly to say. She had expected a personal line, not a corporation. Silence met her so she continued. “In the newspaper. Is the position still available? For… for the…” She could not bring herself to say the words.
Lucky, she did not have to for the woman spoke over her.
“Please hold.”
There were a series of clicks as the line transferred and Avery forced herself to take a deep breath.
“Good afternoon, Miss…?” A deep male voice rumbled on the other end of the line. Was this the man who had placed the ad?
“Hawthorne.” Avery forced the shakiness from her voice. “Miss Avery Hawthorne.”
Miss Hawthorne, I would like to ask you a few questions. If you don’t mind, I shall record these answers for my employer.” Avery breathed a sigh of relief. This was only an employee. That made it slightly easier to speak with him. Only slightly.
“Alright.” Avery felt nervous for some reason. Perhaps because she had not expected such a formal process.
“May I enquire as to your age?”
“Twenty-five.” She breathed. She supposed age would matter to the man searching for a wife.
“Race?”
“Caucasian.” She wondered if she needed to be more specific, but the man pushed onward.
“Have you ever given birth to children or, do you have any dependents?”
“No. To both.”
“Are you currently married, engaged, or likewise in a relationship, Miss Hawthorne?” The man reminded her of a nosy butler, but he was just doing his job, Avery reminded herself.
“No.” After a moment she added a quiet, “Sir.” The voice was so formal. It seemed only natural that she respond in kind.
“What is your familial situation? Do you have parents, or siblings, that require a significant portion of your time?”
Avery felt the usual stab to her heart whenever her family was brought up. The topic was sensitive, to say the least.
“No, Sir. I’m an orphan. I have no known family.”
“I see.” The voice sounded gentler all of a sudden. Avery appreciated that. “Then may I assume that you are able to complete the year’s duration without need of visitation to any particular individuals? Or, would this be an issue?”
Avery thought about this seriously. Did she have any friends that she could not go without for one year? The truth was that she never let anyone get close enough to establish a lasting relationship. Avery felt safer on her own. That way, she could not be abandoned. Again.
“No. There’s no one.” Her voice sounded wistful to her own ears. As necessary as it was to keep people at arm’s length, she sometimes wished that she had at least one person whom she could trust without hesitation.
“Excellent. Miss Hawthorne, before your file is added to the applicant list that will be presented to my employer, you must first pass a medical examination. When will you be available for testing?”
Avery could not believe that she was doing this. The entire situation seemed surreal and incomprehensible. She had not, in truth, expected the process to move so quickly.
“Miss Hawthorne?” The deep voice broke Avery away from her own thoughts.
“Immediately.” She replied with haste. Now that she had committed, she did not want to take a single moment to talk herself out of it.
“Excellent, Miss Hawthorne. If you have a pen and paper, I will give you the address to our facility.”
Chapter 1: Errion
“Errion, at least pretend to look at the files.” Runford scowled over his shoulder.
With a sigh, Errion haphazardly flipped through the manila folders. Each file contain a photograph, brief description, and questionnaire about the female applicant.
He had already deposited at least fifty files in the nearby trash bin.
“I think we are done for the day.” Errion grumbled.
“We can’t be done.” Runford argued. “Your father gave us one week to find a wife. There is no time to waste.”
“They’re all the same.” Errion, in a rare bit of temper, slid his arms across the table sending the remaining files cascading across the floor of the conference room that they were renting.
“My Prince,” Runford twisted his hand and the files flew back to the table to land in a neat pile, “I have been your manservant since you were a child. Never have I seen you not complete a task.” Runford turned to leave the room. “Don’t let this be the first time. Your kingdom depends on it.”
With a soft click the door shut behind Runford. Errion was left alone.
He sank into the plush chair that sat at the head of the massive table.
Earthlings, he thought. What was it with Earthlings and willowy blondes who looked as if one strong gust of wind would blow them over? Errion silently cursed his parents for this terrible mission.
No, he reminded himself. He could not blame his parents. The King and Queen were only doing what they thought best for their planet. What they thought best for their son.
This was the fault of the Hmorithians and their plan to ruin the succession of the crown. Their plan, to create an uprising and destroy the prophecy.
Errion flipped through the folders, no longer bothering to read the information within. Picture after picture he searched for anyone that piqued his interest.
He grew lazy, and bored with the task until, finally, his hand stilled.
He spread the file in front of him, pushing all others aside.
The photograph that looked up at him was of a beautiful brunette with pale, freckled skin and wide hazel eyes. She was only half smiling, as if not entirely certain that she wanted her picture taken.
There was a strength in the image, almost rebellious. Yet, a vulnerability that Errion doubted she wanted anyone to see.
The image was only a headshot, but Errion could tell that there was more substance to this female than any of the others he had so far evaluated.
Something, though he could not saw what, drew him to her. He continued to stare at the photo for a few minutes before transferring his attention to the questionnaire that Rumford had filled out over the phone.
She was young. Good. Well within her peak childbearing years.
She was an orphan. Errion shrugged. That made her even more suitable for the position. Nothing to tie her down to this planet.
He flipped through her medical evaluation. Like all of the Earthlings, she was compatible. Unlike many of the other applicants, however, her body type and bone structure were more conducive to bearing, and birthing, children.
Errion pressed his lips together. Could it really be this simple? That the most physically viable option was also the only one that visually caught his attention?
He felt a slight flutter in his chest and instantly clapped his hand over the offending location. With a furrowed brow he stared at the place where his hand rested.
What was that? When it did not happen again, he grabbed the folder and headed for the oversized mahogany double doors.
“Runford.” Errion spoke in a low voice into the hallway. The manservant came shuffling around the corner.
“Yes, my Prince. May I help you?” The deep voice of his servant belied the man’s tiny stature. Or, perhaps he only seemed tiny because Errion, like his royal ancestors before him, was taller and broader than any other man on his planet. Except for his father.
“This one.” Errion held the lone file between them.
“My Prince!” Runford exclaimed. “You’ve made a decision?” The little man was beside himself with excitement.
“Yes, Runford. Now hurry and bring the female. As y
ou’ve said, we have no time to waste.” Errion’s cool tone masked the inner excitement that he was forcibly trying to eliminate. He supposed it was only natural to be attracted to his future partner. That was all this was, he told himself. Nothing to cause concern.
Errion watched Runford hustle away to retrieve the human and a small part of him wondered if she would be pleased with him.
Chapter 2: The Arrangement
Avery arrived at the pristine office building an hour later. The man who accompanied her was tall, perhaps six feet, and he had a deep voice that she recognized from the phone call.