Chapter 6 Meeting the Beast
Meeting the Beast
Lawrie
Soft snoring woke me up. I peeled my eyes open, and through the gap in the curtains, a low sun sitting in a sliver of clear blue sky glared back at me.
Blinking against the bright light, I rolled, and there he was.
Ernest Bracknell, Mr. Tall Dark Fuck Machine, sprawled next to me on the soccer field that was his bed.
He was so pretty in the morning light. Happy New Year to me.
Had we really spent the night fucking like rabbits?
I knew nothing about him. Did he think I was a slut for letting him plow me like that?
But he’d invited me to stay the weekend and had been just as eager, so it wasn’t like he could hold my sluttiness against me.
Besides, Josh always claimed that slut-shaming was just another way society oppressed omegas and that I should embrace my primal urges.
Well, I did more primal urge embracing last night than ever before.
Josh would be proud. And Ernest said I blew his mind. How’s that for an ego boost?
As the sun shone through the curtains, a stripe of light ran right across his large, bumpy nose, and my chest squeezed with a mix of tenderness and lust. Maybe it could turn into more than just a fling?
Ernest was the ideal man—fun, clever, gorgeous, and a demon in bed.
His nose alone was enough to make me swoon.
And his dick… He said he never stays in one place for long.
With his admission yesterday, he’d made it obvious he wasn’t looking for a relationship.
Which was fine. Totally fine. Except I’d already developed a colossal crush on Ernest Bracknell.
If nothing else, he’d helped me to make an interesting discovery—I was into cum and breeding.
Good to know. That should significantly improve my spank bank.
I could buy one of those big dildos that spurt liquid with a push of a button and see how far I could take the fantasies before it weirded me out.
I muffled a laugh. What had Ernest done to my libido?
Could I even think of anything else but sex?
I appraised his wide shoulders and big hands, the prominent bulge of his cock and balls under the thin comforter…
Sex. Sex. Sex. Breakfast? Nah. More sex.
Ernest had truly fucked me into nirvana last night, and the contentment lingered. I stretched my arms above my head. Nice. I was wonderfully mellow. I would probably be sore today in all the crucial places, but it was so worth it.
My hole felt a bit hollow, which was weird. I stretched some more, wiggled my hips, and clenched experimentally.
Huh.
That was…strange.
I wasn’t sore at all. If anything, I felt invigorated and healthy through and through.
Too healthy.
Where was the soreness in my ass? The tiny bit of a hangover? The random bruises and stubble burn? And what about some ache in my groin from how he’d spread my legs to the limit and beyond?
Something was off.
On pure instinct, I put my hand over my underbelly. What the…? My eyes threatened to pop out of my head. What the fuck did I eat yesterday? A whole chicken and a tub of ice cream?
My stomach was swollen—not grotesquely so, but there was a cushion under my belly button that had not been there before. As if I were very much in heat. Or pregnant. Which I couldn’t be.
My heartbeat picked up.
Had Ernest somehow…hurt me? I didn’t remember any pain, only bliss.
Mind spinning, I continued the inspection of my body.
Several things felt odd. My hole was loose and wet, but that could have been attributed to the extensive sexcapades last night and the fact that I went to sleep full of Ernest’s abundant cum.
My crease itched with dry smears. Seriously, that man’s loads would have satisfied a heat porn studio.
I had no idea an alpha could produce that much several times a night. My ex definitely did not.
My muscles were loose like I’d spent the night in a hot tub. It was pleasant, especially in my lower back, around my hips, and in my thighs. Did all those orgasms soften me up?
What I couldn’t explain away was the sensation in my nipples. The more awake and panicky I felt, the more distinct it got. I was afraid to look. It was like tension in my pecs with a little tingly feeling in the tips of my nipples. Again, pleasant, but very unfamiliar.
I sat up on the bed, trying to calm my breathing. The pouch on my lower belly got more pronounced in the position. Fuck. I eyed my nipples.
Oh shit!
My usually tiny pink nipples stuck out of my chest, significantly bigger, dark, and hard like diamonds, pointing straight forward. My pecs were bloated. Not much, but enough to make me freak out.
What the hell had happened to my body?
I grabbed one pectoral, the touch electric. Ignoring the tingling, I squeezed the swollen part.
Holy…
“Fuck!” I yelped. Goose bumps spread on my arms, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Ernest jolted awake next to me. I could feel his gaze on me, but I couldn’t look away from the freakshow that was my torso.
At the very tip of my nipple sat a clear drop of liquid. That I’d squeezed out of my pec.
I was not pregnant. Unless I’d been abducted and impregnated by aliens and gave birth while in a coma, I’d obviously never been. Yet a drop of something came out of my nipple.
Okay. Okay. There must be an explanation. A hormonal imbalance? Oh my God, I had a tumor. Did I have a tumor?
I was shaking.
“Lawrence.” Ernest’s voice broke on my name. “Lawrie…” He exhaled and trailed off, the silence heavy and meaningful. Lawrie. The whispered endearment hung in the air around me while blood pounded in my ears.
Terrified to my core, I peered at him.
Ernest was staring at me wide-eyed and open-mouthed, but it was a different kind of shock than mine.
He should be going, “Oh my God, what’s happening?
Your stomach is bloated, and you’re lactating even though you’re clearly not having a kid.
Let’s get you to a doctor immediately.” Nope.
Not even remotely. He gazed at me with surprise that quickly changed into excitement first and then mild concern.
His eyes shone with a strange thrill even as he gave me a sad smile.
And it hit me; he knew. Ernest knew what was wrong with me.
I could barely believe I was going to ask the next question, but it was glaringly appropriate.
“What have you done to me?” My words came out whispered and broken.
He closed his eyes and blew out a heavy breath.
The tidal wave of dread made me nauseous. One hand on my stomach, the other on my chest, I shivered like a leaf.
Ernest sat up on the bed and reached out to cup my cheek, but I flinched away.
“What have you done to me?” I repeated in a stronger voice, fury rising in the wake of the debilitating fear. Something was very wrong with me, and it was this man’s fault. I knew it.
“You’re healthy. Nothing of what you’re going through is in any way dangerous for you.” He spoke quietly, voice quivering, the underlying emotion in his tone contradicting the ordinary sentences.
“There’s milk coming out of my nipples. We fucked last night, and I’m leaking chest milk?”
“It’s not chest milk. Technically.”
“What’s going on?” This time, I yelled.
Ernest lifted his hands as if to placate me, but he didn’t touch me, which was lucky because I would have bitten him. He leaned against the headboard next to me, staring at me with that excited glow in his eyes while I got more and more infuriated.
For a few seconds, I could only hear his loud breaths, then he spoke.
“You’re my mate.”
That didn’t compute. “What?”
Completely frozen, I watched Ernest’s eyes fill with tears, which he promptly blinked away. Then he smiled the happiest smile known to man, his gaze roaming my face.
What the actual…?
“I should have known,” he said, hoarse with emotion. “I’ve never reacted so strongly to anyone before, but I wanted you too much to pause and think about it. When we had sex, our pheromones and bodily fluids… Well, it all set off changes in your body, preparing you…for me.”
“I don’t understand a word of what you’re saying.” I sounded hollow. God, I felt hollow, my head empty.
“You’re my mate, Lawrie,” he repeated with tenderness, looking right into the bottom of my soul. Then he drew in a deep breath. “And I’m not what I look like.”
I blinked, the gears in my head shifting.
The red flags were here, an entire field of them, but I’d just ignored them.
The perfect shape of his body, his inhuman strength, the size and hardness of his cock, the unusual color of his eyes.
His scent. Even sweaty, fucking me like there was no tomorrow, he smelled like no alpha I had ever met.
There wasn’t even a trace of the musky, salty stink that always made me think of my high school gym changing rooms. Ernest smelled like clear mountain air and clouds.
A part of me thought I was crazy, possibly hallucinating, just as another part knew with absolute certainty that Ernest wasn’t a human man. He was something else.
Even with my limited sexual experience, I could tell no regular alpha could fuck like he did.
“Who are you?” I swallowed. “What are you?”
He ran his palm down his face. “I’ll show you soon.”
This was getting ridiculous.
I ripped the duvet off him.
“What are you?” I shouted.
In daylight, his perfect body looked like a marble statue, and I finally got a good look at his cock.
I took it in my shaking hand, and it hardened, growing in front of my eyes.
Huge round balls, thick base, no pubic hair.
The shaft curved up, protruding veins adorning the massive girth, and there were ridges.
Not along the length, no. Ridges like rings underneath the cockhead.
Which was enormous. I didn’t feel that last night.
“This wasn’t…”
“My body is changing too.”