He grunted, thick shocks of adrenaline shooting across his chest and out through his fingertips. Her passion spiked his blood so he could hardly control himself. He pressed his torso against hers, holding her in place. Her body was a thrilling mix of lithe muscles and soft flesh. His hands ran up her sides and slipped under the gold clasps that held up her dress. He undid them and pulled the rope around her waist, her dress pooling at her feet. He breathed, “Oh my.” Her body was magnificent, a work of art. He wanted to slide her beauty across his tongue, consuming her whole so he would never be without her. He engulfed her mouth in his as she pressed her heavy breasts against his chest, her nipples hard against his skin, teasing him cruelly. She ran her hands down the thick rungs of his ribs and slipped her thumbs under his leather skirt, tugging it off. She wanted to step aside and drink in his gorgeous, incredibly muscled body, but he had already started kissing her neck. His. Eve tested herself like she had been doing every day, in fact sometimes two or three times per day. For someone who had balefully contemplated a loveless life as wife and mother of someone's heir, she seemed pretty excited about the prospects of being pregnant. The fertility drugs they had in those days were just as effective as the ones we have today; if a woman had the ability to conceive and the man wasn't shooting blanks, chances were excellent that within a few weeks she would be.Anyway, three things seemed to happen almost at once; well, four if you count finding out Eve was going to help increase our little family. The first thing was a message from Liz saying they had noted a sudden flurry of activity in Stackman's group and to watch ourselves. The second was a startling response to our latest message to Stackman. Instead of the normal vid of condescending platitudes totally devoid of informational content we got a very short AI blurb stating the message was refused, would.
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