Cheryl Brooks And I did need him! Though I hadn't had a lover in quite some time, the need was still there; I hadn't lost it, I'd only forgotten what it was.

I let him take me then, sweeping me down onto the pallet by the fire. Leo's long tresses lured my hands to them, seeking only to delve into their soft, swirling mass. I heard his purr getting closer as he leaned down to pull at my lips. I still felt myself to be falling, for the floor seemed to move away from me as I sank further into it. Leo's purr was roaring in my ears; I could feel the vibrations in my chest, almost as though I were the one purring myself.

I felt his hands on me. What was he doing? Oh, yes, I thought feebly. My clothes. He was taking them off.

Perhaps I should have stopped him, but I didn't care. His lips were soft and wet against my own, melting into me, and I didn't care-about anything. Except him.

I knew what he could do to me, had at least some small inkling of how he could make me feel, but he was right, because I was afraid-if only just a little-that nothing in the rest of my whole life would even begin to compare with what I could have with him. It seemed as though I were standing at the edge of a cliff, waiting to take the plunge and knowing that beyond this point, everything-all that I knew, and all that I would ever know-would change.

Leo had nothing to lose and nothing to gain by it. He was a slave, and would undoubtedly remain so whether he did this with me or not. He was simply responding to a drive inherent within him. It may have meant nothing more to him than pleasure, but it was also possible that he might be able to remember these moments *46 *13*.

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someday when faced with the horrors of slavery. He could remember, and it would help him to endure those times-as it would help me to endure my own isolation.

This could be a memory to review with fondness when loneliness threatened to overwhelm me-and there was also the possibility that he could be the one...

My mother had once told me about finding my father.

He'd been a stranger, she said, and had a lame horse he'd brought to her for treatment on the advice of someone in the town. She told me that the moment she laid eyes on him, she knew he was the one. I wasn't quite so sure with Leo, but I did know that I felt a stronger attraction to him than I ever had with anyone else. Perhaps that was why. Of course, there was only one way to find out for sure...

I don't know if Leo felt it or not, that moment when I relinquished control, but he seemed to accept it for what it was. Consent. That moment when a woman decides that, yes, this one-out of perhaps a dozen men clamoring for her attention or her hand- this one, I will choose. The reasons didn't matter in the slightest, what mattered was the choice-and I made it.

Leo might have been the first alien being I'd ever lain with-and I had no idea whether or not he'd ever had a human female before-but he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

Purring softly, he delved inside my mouth, stroking my tongue in a sensuous dance, swirling his fingertips on my skin, heating me with his touch. Something in the way he held me made me feel rare and precious, as though he felt privileged to be able to lay a hand on me.

The deep, sensual massage I'd given him before was *47 *14*.

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Cheryl Brooks repeated, but this time, I was the recipient, and I felt beautiful, alive, and heated to the point of combustion with passionate desire. Suckling at my breasts as if he would draw strength from them, as if the taste of me was something he craved, he brought me teetering to the edge of ecstasy, and then with one last, solid swipe of his tongue, sent me soaring off into infinity.

His cock was in full bloom, dripping moisture from the points of the corona as he nudged my thighs apart and began to caress me with it. The fluid he produced worked every bit as well there as it had in my mouth- sending a piercing note of sensation driving in full force to penetrate me to the core, drawing my womb into a tight, burning mass which then burst forth into flame.

Teasing me with the head of his cock, I found out something else about that fluid; it made me more sensitive, for my clitoris swelled forcefully as though it, too, might burst into bloom, just as his cock had done. Using both chemical and manual stimulation, he drove me to near insanity with it, and for what came next, there is no adequate description-ecstasy is too weak, orgasm imprecise, and climax seems, well, anti-climactic- but, whatever you choose to call it, it built steadily to a peak deep inside me before erupting from my lips with a piercing cry. Leo's purr softened to become a selfsatisfied sigh. Rubbing his face against my neck, I felt his hair, teasingly soft against my skin, and his weight on me began to increase, as though he were somehow melting and becoming a part of me. Pushing, pulsing, penetrating, he came inside, opening me with the blunt head, slowly pulling back to fan out the corona and rake my inner walls, making me delirious with pleasure.

*48 *14*.

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That it was bringing him joy, as well, was clearly evident. I looked up at him, his feline features illuminated by the fire, and saw that his softly glowing pupils were now huge and completely round, and his purr had become a soft groan which coincided with each thrust.

His cockhead was flexible, but the shaft was as thick and strong as the trunk of a tree, and from time to time he paused, pushing in deeply to swirl the passion within as he rotated it inside me, much as you would use a wooden spoon to stir a pot of stew.

Though my orgasms continued without any sign of abatement, after a while, they seemed to become purely mental, as though huge doses of erotic sensation were pulsing through my mind.

Picking up speed, he drove into me with a force that I was surprised I was able to tolerate, given the size of him, but it didn't hurt in the slightest, and, instead, raked a place inside me to a fever pitch before slowly ramping back down only to be pushed upward once more. At last, with a deep, guttural growl, he lurched forward, spilling his semen into me with a force that seemed to focus on my deepest, most sensitive spot, hitting it with a spurt of fluid that had me crying out once again.

With a deep, purring sigh, Leo relaxed on me, but that penis of his never seemed to stop. I could still feel something moving deep inside and realized that it was the coronal points, moving in a slow, undulating wave, continuing to stimulate me until I couldn't even think anymore, was just one big, raw nerve ending-fully exposed and stimulated to the maximum level.

Then, just when I'd thought it was over, I felt something else welling up inside me. It wasn't an ecstatic burst *49 *14*.

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Cheryl Brooks this time, but was, instead, a soothing warmth which suffused my entire body, reaching steadily outward from my center toward the tips of my fingers and toes, making my scalp feel for all the world as though my hair were curling into spirals as tight as his own.

What was it he had said? That he would give me joy unlike any I had ever known? He had put it far too mildly, but I'd been right about one thing, for I was definitely changed by it. I can't explain how, but it was as though I'd been altered in some way, and at a level so deep, so basic, that the change would be both elemental and everlasting. Just what that change would mean, however, remained to be seen.

*50 *14*.

Chapter 3.

One thing was certain, that last, long month of winter wasn't a lonely one-not by anyone's definition of the word. Leo was always there with me and was fairly talkative much of the time, telling me stories- the amusing ones-about his life and the places he'd seen. I had never ventured much beyond the fringes of my domain, but through him I was able to travel to worlds that I hadn't previously known existed. In addition to having a wealth of fascinating stories, he was a good storyteller and was possessed of a very dry sense of humor. His style of speech made many things seem more amusing than they might have been otherwise.

Leo told me that he came from a large family, and while he was one of many, it was plain that there had been strong bonds among them. He knew of no family members who had survived the destruction of his homeworld of Zetith, but he and the other warriors of his unit had been a close-knit group, and he missed them very much.

Captured at the end of the war, he and the other members of his unit had faced execution, but had been sold as slaves instead. According to Leo, the man who had sold them had been acting against orders-and not for any noble reason, but for his own personal gain.

Leo spoke fondly of his comrades, for they had been more like brothers than mere cohorts. One pair actually *51 *14*.

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Cheryl Brooks were brothers, but they were nothing alike, he reported.

Tragonathan had been raised by an uncle on a space freighter and had seen more of life beyond Zetith than any of the others. He was cocky and a bit on the wild side, while his brother, Tycharian, sounded to me like a ladies' man. "It made no difference what he wanted from a woman," Leo said with frank admiration. "He would smile and flatter them, and they would give him anything-which always irritated his brother, Trag." Leo smiled. "Trag always complained that everyone liked Tychar best-which was not true, though we frequently reminded him of it." He spoke fondly of Carkdacund, who had been their leader and the one they all looked up to, and also of one called Lynxsander.

"He was the youngest," Leo said, "and worked very hard at his assigned tasks-given enough time, he could repair any type of machine-but spoke very little. I have no idea what happened to him-or to any of the others. They might all be dead by now, though I hope very much that they are not." It didn't seem to trouble Leo to think about the past, though it might have been disturbing for others in his situation. He was philosophical about it, saying that at some point, if they still lived, their fortunes were bound to improve. "As my own have done," he said slyly.

For the first few days he merely seemed to recuperate, lying before the fire with Desdemona while I worked, but, unlike her, he couldn't remain idle for long. Soon, he was helping me with the household chores and had stitched a new tunic and breeches for himself out of some fabric that I had laid by.

As a result of his help, I had more free time than usual, and Leo, as you may imagine, had some definite *52 *14*.

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ideas about what to do with that time. Actually, I was beginning to see his help around the house as having an ulterior motive since, with his assistance, I would always finish more quickly and would, therefore, have more time for him.

This was no hardship for me, for I was at a point where I truly believe I could have lived on love alone- if it could be called that. Leo had a way of seeming to blend in with my life. Being in his arms made me feel more alive, and just resting my eyes upon him lifted my spirits. I suppose I was in love, though I'd never experienced anything quite like this and had no point of reference. One thing I could say for certain, he was nothing like any of the other men I'd been with.

Perhaps it was from having been a slave-or it may have been a common trait of his kind-but he seemed to have no overwhelming sense of pride. He was who he was, and he did as he pleased, not making any outward attempts to impress or influence me in any way. When he'd said that he would give me joy, it was a statement of fact, not an idle promise. He was, perhaps for the first time in many years, free to do as he wished, and for the most part, it seemed as though pleasing me was his current mission in life. What made it seem odd was that, while I was the one who was supposed to be healing him, quite often it seemed to be the other way around.

The realization that I would have to give him up soon nagged at me, but as I awoke one morning after a night spent making love, it occurred to me that perhaps it might not be such a bad thing if Rafe did take Leo away from me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to take so much ecstasy when I got a little older, and I had an idea that *53 *14*.

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Cheryl Brooks one day I would simply die in his arms. It also occurred to me that I was, perhaps, not the only one to feel that way about one of these men of Zetith.

Leo had told me that the people of his planet had been introduced to space travel as a technology brought to them by others. They hadn't minded using it, however, and had somehow managed to get into a few wars because of it. He was a little vague as to the reasons for those conflicts, but it was clear that he had fought more than a few battles, and the fact that he had ended up as a slave was an indication that the outcome of those battles had not been in the Zetithians' favor.

His having come from such a faraway planet made me wonder just how Leo had ended up here-unless slave traders throughout the galaxy knew that we still adhered to that ancient custom. My own personal views on slavery notwithstanding, there were plenty of other Utopians who felt that we simply couldn't function without them. What that really meant was that those with a hold on the currency would have to give up more of it to pay free men to work for them. Wars had been fought and civilizations had been destroyed over the issue of slavery in the past, but still, we persisted. I was of the opinion that we could manage to live in perfect harmony with nature without resorting to forcing slaves to do most of the manual labor-but my opinions were rarely considered when it came to policy-making within the cartel.

On the other hand, Rafe's opinions were often consulted. He was powerful enough to make changes if he wanted to, but trying to convince him that he didn't need slaves was pointless, for he would never willingly *54 *15*.

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give up anything he felt to be rightfully his. Leo would therefore remain a slave, and if I wanted him, I would have to buy him. Unfortunately, I had no money and nothing of value. I tried to resign myself to the fact that Leo and I were simply not meant to be together forever, but it was difficult-especially when I was looking into his golden eyes.

It took a week or so for all traces of Leo's wounds to disappear, which was remarkable given their severity.

He normally healed quickly, he said, but was also of the opinion that my treatment of him had hastened the process. The smile that accompanied that comment made me fairly certain that he hadn't been referring to my herbs or medicines. With regard to my own sense of having been healed, it wasn't just that he'd been helping with the chores. No, what he had done for me went deeper than that, for I was genuinely happy, perhaps for the first time in my life, though I still felt some...

reservations.

During that time, I noticed that the offerings on my doorstep increased, almost as though it had become common knowledge that I now had another mouth to feed. I had no idea how anyone might have known, although I suppose Rafe might have mentioned it, or it was possible that Leo had been seen. Either way, I was grateful for the extra provisions. Of course, keeping it a secret that he was almost fully recovered might prove difficult if he were out and about, so, by an unspoken, but mutual agreement, he stayed close to the house, rarely venturing outside.

Even this was no guarantee that our little secret would remain undiscovered, and, fortunately, when a local *55 *15*.

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Cheryl Brooks woman came by seeking medicine for her sick child, Leo was napping on his pallet by the fire and at least appeared still to be in need of my care. I had no doubt that if word reached Rafe that Leo was well, our time together would be cut short.

After she'd gone, Leo smiled up at me with an expression I was beginning to know well. "Do I appear ill?"

"No," I replied. "Not in the slightest, but I don't think she suspected. It's a good thing you were lying down, though."

"I will moan the next time someone comes," he said, obviously understanding the need for a bit of subterfuge.

"And be...irritable."