Page 30 of Trapped By the Cartel

He pressed a passionate kiss to my lips, branding me with his claim as surely as if he had marked me physically. When he pulled back, his eyes shone with possessiveness, and a broad smile stretched across his face.

"I am proud beyond words," he whispered, resting his forehead against mine. "Proud to call you my omega, my partner, and soon-to-be father of my child."

My heart swelled with love and relief, my fears melting away under the heat of his adoration. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly as I allowed myself to truly believe in this new reality—the reality where I wasn't just Elliot Hayes anymore; I was also the omega who carried Damon Vexley's child.

Damon's strong arms enveloped me, pulling me closer until our bodies were flush against one another. His hardness pressed against me, and I could feel the hunger rising within him once more—as raw and powerful as the day we first came together.

"You are mine," he growled, nipping at my earlobe. "Every inch of you belongs to me now—and especially this beautiful body that grows ripe with my seed."

His hands roamed over my curves, worshipping each dip and swell as if they were sacred artifacts. A low moan escaped my lips as desire coursed through me, setting me ablaze with need.

"Damon," I gasped, grinding against him shamelessly. "Please…"

Chapter 14

Damon

My heart pounded in my chest like a wild beast clawing its way free, primal instincts surging through my veins as I held Elliot close. The scent of his arousal mingled with the sweetness of the fruit salad, a potent combination that threatened to overwhelm my senses. Yet, amidst the chaos of my raging desires, one thought stood out above all others:

Mine.

This tiny, fragile-seeming man was mine. Every curve, every freckle, every beat of his heart belonged to me. And now, even more so, with the precious gift he carried within him—my child.

A ferocious urge to protect, to cherish, and to dominate surged within me. It was an ancient drive, hardwired into my DNA by centuries of alphas before me. To provide, to shelter, to claim—not just Elliot, but the vulnerable life growing inside him.

My mind flashed back to a memory long buried, dredged up from the darkest corners of my soul. An image of a pale, lifeless form, limbs limp and eyes vacant—a haunting echo of the omega who had once been mine. Beside him lay the tiny, stillborn bodyof our son, a tragedy that had torn apart not just my heart, but my very essence.

No, I vowed silently, clenching my jaw against the sudden, searing pain. Not again. Never again.

Elliot deserved better. He deserved a chance to experience true joy, to bask in the warmth of family without the shadow of loss looming overhead. And I would make sure he got it—I swore it on my name, on my honor, and on the legacy of the Nightshade Wolves.

With renewed purpose, I claimed Elliot's mouth, pouring all my protective fury, all my possessive fire into the kiss. Our tongues clashed, our teeth clicked, and our breath became one as I drank deeply from his lips. He tasted like honey and apples, like sunlight and promise—like hope.

I wanted to consume him, to devour every inch of him, to merge our beings until there was no telling where one ended and the other began. But more than that, I needed him to understand—to truly comprehend—the depth of my devotion, the unbreakable chain that bound us together.

As Elliot pulled back slightly, breaking the heated frenzy of our kiss, I felt a flicker of disappointment. But then, those large hazel eyes blinked open, and I found myself captivated by the confusion swimming within them.

"And… and what about the fruit salad?" He asked, voice breathless and tinged with uncertainty.

It took me a moment to process his question, my mind still clouded with primal urges and the overwhelming rush of emotions that had taken hold of me. When I finally did, I couldn't help but chuckle, a warm, rumbling sound that seemed to surprise both of us.

"What about it?" I murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from his face, my fingers lingering on the soft skin of his cheek.

"It… it looks amazing," he stammered, cheeks flushing a soft pink. "And I don't want it to go to waste. You made it special for me…"

His words trailed off, leaving behind a comfortable silence as we gazed into each other's eyes. In that moment, I realized that while I might have been lost in the storm of my own desires, Elliot had been here, present, taking everything in. Even when faced with news that could have sent him spiraling, he had managed to maintain his compassion and consideration—for me, yes, but also for something as simple and pure as a plate of fruit.

A wave of love washed over me, stronger than any possessive instinct or raw desire. This was the Elliot I adored—the thoughtful, caring, empathetic being hidden beneath layers of fear and self-doubt. The omega who would make an incredible father.

"You're right," I said softly, pressing another gentle kiss to his lips. "We shouldn't let such a beautiful creation go to waste."

Reaching around him, I grabbed the platter and fork, placing them carefully on the counter beside us. With a smirk, I picked up a slice of apple and brought it to his lips, feeding him slowly and deliberately.

"Mmm," he hummed, eyes fluttering closed as he savored the taste. "So good."

As he chewed, I watched his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, entranced by the simple action. My cock throbbed painfully in response, eager to feel that motion against its length. But I pushed down the urge, wanting this moment to last—to burn itself into my memory forever.

"Damon," Elliot whispered, opening his eyes to meet my gaze. "What happens now?"

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