Chapter Ten #3
“Matched is the key word. If my hunches are correct, when I speak to the possible fathers today, I suspect many will be open to not only finding a mother for their cub, but a partner for their lifetime. Now, if there are others who are not interested in such a thing, like Farhet, let’s say, then I will put them on a waiting list to be one of the first contacted when an artificial insemination technique is perfected.
You know that, right now, such a thing doesn’t exist. My first priority was proving that a human and a Felid could produce a child.
Now, my priority will be to teach other doctors the protocol while I work to perfect an artificial insemination technique.
I think we’re only three or four years away from that point. ”
Sasha’s face felt hot, then cold, as emotions rushed through her. “I would have the credits to start a life with Gideon? How? This isn’t part of my contract.”
“You came. You began the program. If I terminate your contract, with your blessing, my dear, then you are due full payment, with or without conception and delivery.”
But Gideon’s freedom. His credits. The life he was planning. He’ll lose them all if Farhet doesn’t get a child—or at least an attempt from Gideon to make one.
“Farhet won’t pay Gideon anything if he doesn’t at least try. And the bonus, the money he would get to start a whole new life—he won’t get that unless Farhet gets a baby out of this.”
“But—”
“He deserves this shot at freedom, Dr. Marcus. He’s been a prisoner of a society that treats him as a second-class citizen because he’s a ‘servant,’ and worse, he’s been employed by someone like Farhet, who can’t get past the color of his fur, and that region is full of snobs. I... I can’t do that to him.”
“I see.” Dr. Marcus gave a grave nod, but he smiled a little. “That’s an awful lot of love in a short time, Miss Cordovair.”
“He has a lot to give,” Sasha fired back, rising. “I think your plan is a good one. I think... I think I’d be willing to be a test case, a testimonial, whatever. But I refuse to take Gideon’s future from him.”
“At least talk to him, Sasha? His future may not be based on credits, but on something far more rare, something you truly cannot buy.”
“All right.”
“Tomorrow afternoon, another shot, another round of bloodwork, okay?”
“Okay.” Sasha rose, ready to bolt.
“You’re not having any symptoms other than hot flashes? That’s caused by spikes in your hormones mimicking a Felid Queen’s heat, which I’m sure you understood going in. You have some medical background.”
“Not as much as that, but I kinda guessed. I still wanted to check.”
“Is there anything else you want to check before you go?”
“No. I just... Would you tell Kamau we want to eat in Gideon’s room?” Sasha murmured.
Marcus put his glasses back on and peered over the tops at her retreating figure. “Of course.”
“OH, WOW. SO, DO YOU think the Pantherite Provinces will ever... Um...”
Gideon frowned at Sasha as she poured herself a second glass of wine, her eyes distracted, her sentence trailing off.
Is it me? She can tell something is wrong, can’t she? Or perhaps it’s that we’ve done too much, too rapidly. Or perhaps it is being alone in my quarters, not hers. “Do you want to go to the lounge? I promise not to bore you anymore with the history of the Pantherite Provinces.”
“Do you think their quest for freedom is an honorable one?” Sasha pushed.
“I do. Absolutely. But there are ways to go about it. There have been numerous treaties offered over the years by both the Tigerite Provinces and the Intersystem Council. The Pantherite Militia made a rather bad name for themselves over the years by attacking too many peaceful delegations. Before Queen Fever, they openly attacked any Tigerite ship approaching. What a mess. It’s more of a corruption problem now.
There are some leaders deep in the Pantherite Provincial System who refuse to compromise and claim they want the whole of Tigerite-Two, which is ludicrous, since it was never one of the original contested planets.
There I go again. Rambling. Boring you.”
“I’m not bored by you, Gideon. I love talking to you.” Sasha gave him a smile that stunned him with its intensity. “I love doing everything with you. What did you do while I went to my appointment?”
“Oh. I... I told Farhet I wouldn’t be coming back to work for him when this is done. It was as if he had wiped that bit of our agreement from his mind. He has shown more mercurial rises in temper and lapses of judgment since his father became so ill.”
Sasha’s face turned sympathetic at once. “Because he’s so worried about his health?”
“I am sure that’s part of it, but I fear it is more that he fears losing power to his brother. Memhet is very different from his brother. You would have had no trouble with him.”
“I would have had trouble if I’d met you.” Sasha draped her hand over his paw, shifting in her seat. Her lips pressed together to wet them, and when she smiled, Gideon’s heart fluttered like a caged songbird. “What else did you do?” she crooned.
“And then, oh! Oh, I looked at Eastshore and Hillhead, which is where Ardol and Jade, the couple who married and had a cub before they left the crew, now live. Twelve human-Felid couples live there, and many little families are starting. I looked at properties there. There is some land that I could afford—even without the 300,000 credits he promised for a cub. But it would leave little money for terraforming, next to nothing for an orchard or a herd of goats. At the beginning.”
Sasha sat up straighter, her distracted eyes now sharply focused. “But that’s what you want. Citrines, spice apples, plumcottas, and goats. And your investment plans, what about them?”
“I’m afraid it would be a fraction of my first plan, but—”
“But that is all right, because we can get you that money. I’m... I’m feeling much hotter than yesterday, Gideon.” She finished the second glass of wine in three swallows. “But hotter in a very different sort of way.”
“Sasha,” he cautioned as she rose and leaned over the table.
“Gideon. My King.”
Damned irresistible words. “You’re not ready for more after so much, ahem, attention last night. You’ll end up injured.”
Sasha shrugged. “So we can satisfy each other in other ways. I promise that parts of me are ready for more of what I got last night.”
Gideon bit his lip. They could talk more later.
He would figure things out later. Right now, the warm, heated scent of her hit his nostrils hard, and he scooped her up in his arms, listening to her delighted squeal.
He sat her bottom on the edge of the table, mainly to resist sitting her directly on his instantly hard cock.
“Oh, am I dessert?” Sasha whispered, fluttering her lashes.
And suddenly, it made the most sense in the world to push all the dishes and glasses into his arm and carry them to the sink, unusual carelessness for him, but then again—having a Queen waiting for him, begging for him with her voice and her scent was unusual.
“You are my entire feast, Sasha,” he growled, sitting back down, licking his lips—and pulling her to the edge of the table.
She gasped when her skirt went up over her hips and her underwear was slid over her thighs and off in a single, graceful pull, putting her bare, glistening flesh on display.
He didn’t even give her time to make a sound after that, stealing her breath with a long, demanding kiss on her lips before sitting back in his chair, pushing it away from the table, and leaning forward.
His mouth was at exactly the right height to lap the swollen pink fruit of her clit, and his tongue could cleave the place where all her nectar lay trapped inside, waiting for him to pull it into his mouth.
When she squirmed, his paws pressed her thighs open and down, keeping her still as he ate greedily, drank eagerly, as if he was dying of thirst.
“Please, please... fuck, Oh, Gideon, so fast—” Sasha’s broken, breathless cries only spurred him on.
Part of him thought about satisfying her as his duty as her lover, and part of it was his selfish greed to consume all of her, every drop.
But a third, guilty part thought that if he satisfied her enough with his mouth and tail, then the discussion of intercourse could wait.
Yes, it was cowardly. It was prolonging the inevitable, avoiding the job he was sent here to do—and avoiding the moment where he might break and tell Sasha he didn’t want to build her that big, beautiful life with orchards and riches, or make her choose between him and the money she needed for her new life here.
What if she were sent back to Sapien-Three?
What if something horrible happened to her?
He couldn’t let it.