Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
H arper
The second trimester of my pregnancy is so much better than the first. No heartbreak for starters. No navigating how to break uncomfortable news to our parents. No facing up to society and the gossips. And no more fear the hospital Board is going to find out the truth.
Plus I’m constantly surrounded by my alphas – a major, major plus point in my book – and I’m blooming, even if I do say so myself. My bump is round but still manageable, my boobs have grown a whole cup size, my hair is thick and shiny and my skin the smoothest I’ve ever known it. It won’t last. But I’m going to enjoy the benefits of pregnancy hormones while I can.
I’m also going to enjoy all the spare time I have right now too. Once these two little munchkins arrive, I don’t think I’m going to have a moment to myself.
On the weekends, I have all three alphas assembling flat-packed furniture and painting walls – shaping both the nursery and the nest to be exactly how I want them. In the evenings, I’m the first to arrive home and often have an hour or two to myself before the alphas return from the hospital.
Maybe some omegas would spend those hours floating in a bath, cleaning the house, or preparing a lavish meal for their pack. I spend it drawing, sketching, painting and even occasionally building crazy sculptures.
I don’t know where this boundless source of creativity has come from – maybe it’s pack life, all the good sex or just being darn happy – but I’m not letting it go to waste. No more scribbling away in secret, ashamed to admit this is my passion. Heck, the entire city knows my step-brother knocked me up. What do I care what people think?
Tonight, I’m attempting to finish a piece I’ve been working on all week. I’ve erected a massive blank canvas against the wall of the house and I’m standing in my winter coat in the backyard, painting the biggest picture I’ve ever attempted.
The idea for it has been floating around in my head for weeks but it’s only in the last few days I’ve felt brave enough to attempt it.
It’s probably the most raw and emotional piece I’ve done to date. In fact, swiping my brush across the canvas I feel like I’m bearing open my soul for the world to see.
There’s a slight chill to the air, my fingers a little stiff, but it’s never properly cold in Rockview and the sun has been shining all day, only now dipping low in the sky. I blow on my fingers, scrunching and straightening to start the blood pumping through them, then dip my paint brush in a can of dark gray and drag the bristles across my picture.
From the far side of the house, I hear a car engine, doors slamming, footsteps and then Owen calling my name.
“I’m out here in the yard,” I call back and soon I’m surrounded by three alphas, all kissing my cheeks, my mouth and my baby bump. Then they’re standing back to admire my painting as I chew on the end of my paint brush.
“Wow, Harp,” Daxton says, eyes straying all over the painting. “This is amazing. Is it done yet?”
“Hmmm,” I say, “not quite yet. I think it needs one more …” I add a blob of paint to the bottom left corner. “There.”
Owen wraps his arms around me and picks me up in one of his squeezie hugs and Wyatt applauds.
“I’m so proud of you, Harp. It’s incredible.”
“It’s all right,” I say.
Wyatt snorts. “It’s good enough to be in your art gallery.”
I shake my head. “I’m doing this for me, remember. No one else.”
“No,” Daxton says, staring right at me. “This is too good not to share. You need to show this to Sylvie.”
“I’d rather boil my own head.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Owen reminds me.
I stick my tongue out at him. “And you’re just being kind.”
“We’re not.”
“Okay, then, but you’re seeing my art through rose-tinted glasses. You think it’s good because I painted it.”
“Because you have talent, Harp,” Daxton insists.
“Harper,” Wyatt says, “you’ve been brave enough to tell your mom you were sleeping with your step-brother. And you were brave enough to step outside the house when you knew everyone would be gossiping about you. This is nothing in comparison.”
It doesn’t feel like nothing. It’s one thing to be painting again. To share my work with the people I love. But to show it to an actual art expert? That feels like a really big deal.
However, Wyatt is right. I can be brave again.
“What if she hates it? What if she thinks it’s amateurish?”
“I really really want to punch that Laurent,” Owen mutters.
“So what if she does?” Daxton says. “You always say art is an opinion, not a fact.”
“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I’ll show it to her.” Owen whoops and picks me up into another of those bear hugs. “Although goodness knows how I’m going to get it down to the gallery.”
“Invite her round for a private viewing,” Owen suggests. “In fact, we could have a little art exhibition here at the house – invite our friends and family.”
I stare at him. How did this go from showing one person my art in private to revealing it to everyone I know?
“I don’t know …”
“It’ll be fun, Harper.”
“Oh really? Even if I include those sketches I did of the three of you?”
Owen flexes his biceps. “We look good in those sketches.”
“Better in the flesh, though.” I sigh, eyes straying down my alphas, and the next thing I know, Owen is swinging me up into his arms and walking me into the house and up to the nest. It’s almost complete and my stomach still flutters every time I walk inside.
A thick carpet runs across the floor, colorful drapes hang from the three large windows and all my favorite pieces of art cover the walls. In the center of the room stands one gigantic bed, smothered in pillows of every shape and blankets of every texture. Fairy lights drape around the bed and one giant fan hangs from the ceiling – no AC in this nest! The far wall is one giant built-in wardrobe and there are two floppy couches taking up the remaining space.
“I’ve been dreaming about this all day,” Owen says, as he settles me down on the bed.
“Are you ever not dreaming about this?” I giggle.
“Guilty as charged,” he confesses as he unwraps my coat and the other two settle onto the bed with us.
Once my coat is off, my bump comes into view. I’d like to say it’s a neat little bump, but it’s housing twins, so it’s not. It’s already so big I’m struggling to see my toes.
“Fuck,” Daxton says, eyes full of desire as he stares at my rounded belly, “take your fucking clothes off before I rip them off you.”
I give him one of my best bratty looks and then take my time undressing. Teasing them like this will never get old. I’ll still be doing it when I’m eighty and underneath all the layers of cardigans will be one pair of gigantic granny panties.
Today, the panties are anything but enormous. They’re a teeny lacy red pair I know drives them wild. Especially when I couple it with the matching bra. One that is pretty darn tight these days so has my boobs spilling out. I have the sensible and super comfy pregnancy ones – but this one I wore especially for my alphas’ home coming. There hasn’t really been an evening when they have been able to keep their hands off me. Which is, by the way, fine by me.
“Look at you,” Wyatt says, laying his hand flat against my belly and then tracing his thumb along the line that’s formed over my stomach, “all round and carrying our babies. You’re so damn sexy, Harper.”
He kisses along my shoulder, keeping his hand on my stomach. When he reaches my bra strap, he captures it in his teeth and glides it down, repeating the action on the other side. Then Owen is unhooking it from behind and they’re pulling it off together, both sucking a darkened nipple into their mouths.
“Shit, I think these tits are even bigger than yesterday,” Owen moans, his mouth full of my breast, and then he’s nipping at my nipples, sending electricity pulsing through my body.
“Too much?” he asks.
“No,” I say, just the right amount.
My alphas have discovered they can make me come by playing with my nipples. I don’t know if it’s just a temporary pregnancy thing, but they’re going to take advantage of it while they can.
Including right now.
Owen and Wyatt suck and lick, flick and nibble at my nipples until that electricity is so strong I can feel the pressure building deep in my core and then I’m coming, slicking right into my panties and all over the bed sheets.
“I wanna fuck you so bad,” Daxton says, yanking off his shirt and stripping off his pants. “You smell all wet and ready. You always do, little Omega.”
“I can’t help it,” I sigh, “the three of you turn me on so much. And I really want to be fucked.”
Pregnancy has made me even more horny than I was before – or maybe that’s because I’m now bonded to a pack. In fact, I feel like a teenager once again, unable to help drooling over these three hot alphas and slicking my panties non-stop. However, pregnancy has also made me a lot less malleable. The doctor has forbidden me from lying on my back and face down on the bed isn’t an option if I don’t want to squash the babies. Even doggy is difficult because the weight of the baby makes my back ache.
Yep, pregnancy has meant we’ve had to be a lot more creative in our positioning.
Which is the main reason we added those low-cushioned sofas to the nest. Daxton scoops me up and settles me into one, sliding me forward until I’m right at the edge of the seat, then he kneels on the floor between my legs and thrusts his way inside me.
Pregnancy hasn’t just made me horny, it’s also made me more sensitive. Just the motion of Daxton sliding his cock inside me has me crying out in pleasure, more of that electricity spiraling around my body.
“Look how fucking incredible she looks, belly all round, pussy full of my cock,” Daxton tells the others.
“Shhh,” I say teasing him again, unable to drag my eyes away from his, loving the way his abs ripple as he thrusts in and out of me, his pecs and biceps flexing too, “you can’t talk dirty like that in front of the babies.”
“They can’t hear me,” he growls.
“They can. Dr. Robinson was encouraging me to talk to the babies and play them music.”
“Okay, if they can hear, they can hear their daddy fucking their mommy and they can hear their mommy coming – because you are going to come for me, aren’t you, Harp? Just like a good girl.”
It’s hard not to come when he talks to me like that and soon the orgasm is rushing from my core and overtaking me completely. Daxton growls and comes right after me, his knot expanding and locking into me.
“Jeez,” I mutter as I float somewhere heavenly. “If I wasn’t pregnant already, I certainly would be now.”