Chapter 26
ELISE
(Three months pregnant)
The morning sickness has finally passed, but what's replaced it is infinitely more consuming.
I wake tangled in silk sheets, my skin burning despite the ice-cold air of our chambers.
Every nerve ending feels exposed, hypersensitive to the slide of fabric against my body, to the warmth radiating from Aratus's sleeping form beside me.
My breasts are heavy and tender, my nipples so sensitive that even the whisper of silk makes me gasp.
And between my legs, I'm already wet.
It's been like this for weeks now—this constant, aching arousal that pregnancy has awakened in my omega biology.
The healers call it normal, a natural intensification of bonding instincts designed to keep an alpha close during the vulnerable months of carrying his young.
But knowing the science doesn't make it easier to bear.
I shift carefully, trying not to wake him, but even that small movement sends liquid heat pooling between my thighs.
My scent has changed too, grown richer and more intoxicating in ways that make Aratus's eyes go dark with hunger whenever he catches it.
The smell of omega carrying alpha's children—fertile, claimed, thoroughly bred.
The thought sends another wave of arousal through me, and I bite back a whimper.
"Awake already?" His voice is rough with sleep, but I can hear the edge of awareness creeping in. He always knows when I'm aroused now, can sense it through our bond before I'm even fully conscious of it myself.
"Can't sleep," I whisper, not trusting my voice to stay steady.
"The dreams again?"
I nod, though 'dreams' hardly covers what I experience when unconsciousness takes me.
Vivid fantasies of him taking me in every position imaginable, of being bred over and over until I'm heavy with his children, of surrendering so completely that nothing exists except his cocks inside me and the overwhelming need to please my alpha.
Dreams that leave me writhing against the sheets, desperate for his touch.
His hand slides across my hip, fingers trailing over the slight curve of my belly where our twins are growing. The touch is gentle, reverent, but it sends lightning through my sensitized nerves.
"They're changing you," he murmurs, pressing his palm flat against the small swell. "Making you more... responsive."
"Is that what you call it?" I can't keep the breathless need out of my voice. Three months pregnant, and I want him more desperately than I did during my first heat. "Responsive?"
"Addicted," he corrects, his voice dropping to that dark rumble that makes my pussy clench. "To my touch. My cocks. My seed growing inside you."
The crude words make me moan, hips rolling involuntarily against his thigh. Everything he says hits differently now, filtered through hormones and biology that make submission feel like the most natural thing in the world.
"Aratus," I gasp as his thumb traces the edge of my breast through the thin silk of my nightgown. "Please."
"Please what?" But his tone has changed, taken on that commanding edge that never fails to make me wet. "Use your words, omega. Tell your alpha what you need."
The titles should feel wrong after everything we've built together, but they don't. If anything, they feel more real now—not roles we're playing but fundamental truths about what we are to each other.
"Touch me," I breathe. "I need your hands on me. Inside me. I need—"
"Everything," he finishes, rolling until he's above me, his weight supported on his forearms. "You need everything I can give you."
"Yes." The word comes out broken, desperate. "Yes, Alpha. Everything."
He kisses me then, deep and possessive, his tongue claiming my mouth while his hands work at the ties of my nightgown. The silk slides away like water, leaving me naked beneath him, my skin flushed and aching for his touch.
"So beautiful like this," he murmurs against my throat, teeth grazing the mark he left during my claiming. "Pregnant with my children. Glowing with my seed."
His words are pure breeding kink, designed to remind me exactly what I am—his omega, bred and claimed and thoroughly owned. But instead of shame, they send heat spiraling through me, making my pussy pulse with need.
"Look at you," he continues, hands mapping the changes pregnancy has brought to my body. "Tits getting fuller. Hips widening. Everything about you screaming that you belong to me."
"I do," I gasp as his mouth closes around one sensitive nipple. "I belong to you. Only you."
The admission would have killed me six months ago. Now it feels like freedom—the freedom to want exactly what I have, to embrace what I've become instead of fighting it.
His tongue circles my nipple, making me arch beneath him with a cry. Every sensation is magnified, pleasure so intense it borders on pain. When he bites down gently, I nearly come from that alone.
"Sensitive," he observes with dark satisfaction. "These beautiful tits getting ready to feed our children. Going to be so full soon, so heavy."
The image he's painting—me swollen with milk, completely his in every biological sense—makes me writhe against him.
"Will you still want me then?" The question slips out before I can stop it, vulnerability threading through the arousal. "When I'm huge and clumsy and can barely move?"
He lifts his head, ice-blue eyes burning with something that might be offended. "Want you? Elise, I'm going to worship every inch of your pregnant body. Going to spend hours with my tongue buried in your pussy, making you come until you can't remember your own name."
His hand slides down my body, fingers tracing the small curve of my belly before moving lower. "Going to fuck you so carefully, so thoroughly, making sure you never doubt who you belong to."
When his fingers find my pussy, I'm already soaking wet, slick coating my thighs. He groans at the feel of it, fingers sliding easily through my folds.
"Always so ready for me now," he murmurs, circling my clit with maddening lightness. "Pregnancy making you desperate for your alpha's cocks."
"Yes," I gasp, hips rolling against his hand. "Need you. Need you inside me."
"I know you do." He slides one finger inside me, and I moan at the invasion. "But I want to play with you first. Want to see how many times I can make you come before you're begging for my cocks."
The promise makes me clench around his finger, more slick flooding out of me. He adds a second finger, stretching me, and I throw my head back with a cry.
"That's it," he encourages, thumb finding my clit as his fingers work inside me. "Let me hear you. Let the whole palace know how much their queen loves being fucked by her alpha."
The title hits me like a physical blow. Queen. Not just his omega anymore, but his equal in ruling this court. A woman with power who chooses to submit because it feels like home.
"Your queen," I gasp, the words coming out on a moan as he curves his fingers to hit that spot inside me that makes me see stars. "Your omega queen."
"Mine," he growls, adding a third finger, stretching me wider. "My omega. My queen. My perfect breeding slut."
The crude words push me over the edge, orgasm crashing through me with devastating force. I cry out his name, back arching as pleasure tears through every nerve ending. He works me through it, fingers never stopping their relentless rhythm.
When I finally come down, gasping and shaking, he's watching me with those predatory eyes that still make my heart race.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his mouth. "The way you taste when you're pregnant... addictive."
I watch him lick my slick from his fingers, the sight making my pussy clench with renewed arousal despite having just come.
"More," I whisper. "Please, Alpha. I need more."
"Greedy little omega," he says, but there's approval in his voice. "What do you want? My mouth? My fingers again?"
"Your cocks," I say without hesitation. "Both of them. I want to feel you stretch me, fill me completely."
His eyes go completely dark at that, control slipping for just a moment. The dual cocks that mark him as Frost Court royalty are already hard, the ice-crystal ridges along their length glowing faintly in the dim light of our chambers.
"Are you sure?" he asks, voice strained. "The babies—"
"The healers said it's safe," I interrupt, reaching down to wrap my hand around one of his cocks. The crystal ridges are warm to the touch, designed to provide pleasure rather than pain when he's with his bonded mate. "They said I need the connection, the bonding. That it's good for them."
"Fuck," he breathes as I stroke him, my hand barely able to wrap around his girth. "You're going to kill me, talking like that."
"Then stop talking and fuck me," I say, meeting his eyes with all the authority I've learned to wield as queen. "Fill your omega queen with your cocks. Remind her why she chose to stay."
Something snaps in his expression, the careful control he's been maintaining finally breaking. He positions himself at my entrance, both cocks lined up and ready to claim me.
"Hold on to me," he orders, and I wrap my arms around his neck just as he starts to push inside.
The stretch is incredible, both cocks working together to open me completely. The ice-crystal ridges drag against my inner walls, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my hypersensitive body. I gasp and moan, taking him inch by inch until he's fully seated inside me.
"Perfect," he groans, holding still to let me adjust. "So fucking perfect. Made for this, weren't you? Made to take me, to carry my children."
"Yes," I breathe, feeling utterly complete with him buried inside me. "Made for you. Only you."