Page 287 of Labor of Love

My vision went white as pleasure sang through my body. For the first time, I understood what it meant to feel whole. In that moment, Noah and I were a single entity, a singular being joined together on a soul-deep, cellular level. I could feel the rush of emotions swirling through him as our claiming bond snapped into place. His joy was palpable, tangible, and I felt it under my skin, and as his pleasure crested and the hot rush of his cum painted my inner walls, I felt it like it was my own, and my cock erupted between us.

Noah held me to him, his tongue stroking over the mark left behind by his barb, and I did the same, running my tongue over the healing mark that meant he was mine forever.

I’d never been happier in my entire life.

And knowing I was going to have my mate’s babies meant it was only going to get better.

I couldn’t wait.

EPILOGUE

NOAH

Four Months Later

“Noah!” Milo’s hands gripped my hair tight as I sucked his cock deep into my throat and swallowed around him. The farther my mate got into his pregnancy, the hornier he’d become, and I’d found that waking him up with a blow job was the best way to help him stave off his need so he could make it through the day.

I was also addicted to his taste, so it really wasn’t a hardship for me. I hollowed my cheeks, sucking him hard and working my tongue over the spot under the head of his cock that drove him wild. Milo bucked his hips, driving deeper into my mouth and holding my head in place as he came over my tongue. I licked him clean, then crawled up the bed to kiss him. “Good morning.”

His face was flushed with pleasure, his eyes bright. “Good morning.”

I moved a little lower, placing a kiss on his swollen belly. “And good morning to you too.” I rubbed my hand over the bump, smiling when I felt movement under my palm.

Milo yawned. “Your baby kept me up all night. They decided sitting on my bladder was a good idea. I feel like I went pee a hundred times.”

“How are you feeling otherwise?” We’d gone to visit Dr. Archie Abernathy, the new doctor in town who’d taken over as the local shifter internist after Dr. Robbins retired last year, two days ago, and he said it wouldn’t be long before our cub made his or her appearance. Early on, Archie had confirmed Milo’s pregnancy, and later, when he’d done an ultrasound, he’d told us Milo was carrying a single cub.

“Sore. My back is cramping really badly.”

“Do you want me to rub it for you?”

Milo nodded. “Yes. Please.”

“Roll onto your side.” My mate moved into position, and I rubbed my hands together, warming them up. My sweet omega’s back was very tight, and I smoothed my hands over his skin, pressing in deep to release some of the tension. Milo moaned as I massaged his back, and I tried to keep my cock from reacting to his sounds, but by the time he’d relaxed, I was rock hard. A soft snore told me he’d fallen back asleep, and I ducked into the bathroom to jerk myself off.

One of Matteo Marsh’s paintings hung in our bathroom. It was a small canvas that had a stingray swimming in the ocean, off a beach that looked a lot like my favorite little inlet, while a snowy white leopard lay on the beach in a patch of sun. Matteo had painted it for Milo as a gift following the success of his show and the opening of Milo’s gallery. Matteo was already working on pieces for his next show, and Milo’s phone had been blowing up with collectors looking to acquire a Matteo Marsh piece.

I was so goddamn proud of my mate and everything he’d accomplished, and every time I looked at the painting I was reminded of how even though we were different, we completed each other.

My fingers wrapped around my cock, but before I could give myself more than a solid stroke, a panicked yell came from our bedroom.

“Noah!” I ran out of the bathroom to find Milo lying in our bed, the sheets around him soaked, and his arm over his belly. “I think my water just broke, and I’m pretty sure I’m having a contraction.” His face screwed up in pain.

“Breathe, sweet thing.” I exaggerated my breathing, and took Milo’s hands encouraging him to do the same. It took him a minute, but he matched my breaths, his face relaxing as the contraction passed.

“Fuck, Noah. I’m not ready. I’m not ready.”

Through our mate bond, I could feel Milo starting to spiral, I put my hand on his shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “Yes, you are, baby. The nursery is all set up. We are ready to welcome our cub.”

He nodded, then his face pinched with pain again, and I saw his belly go tight with another contraction. I exaggerated my breaths and he matched them again.

“Help me up. I need to stand up.”

I did as Milo asked, making sure he was steady on his feet. He slowly moved around our room, turning on all the fans he’d set up until the sheets were blowing in the breeze. He stood in front of the box fan on our dresser and pulled his shirt and wet sleep pants off, sighing as the cool air washed over his skin. The heat had been really hard for him to handle during his pregnancy, but having all the fans going and the air conditioner set to just above freezing seemed to make him feel better. I grabbed a sweatshirt and pair of sweatpants from the dresser and tugged them on over my pajamas.

For a while, Milo paced around the room, picking up soft things and arranging them on the bed in a neat little circle between contractions. I felt his pain like a dull throb throughour bond, and I’d started timing the contractions, realizing they were getting closer and closer.

“You’re doing so well, sweet thing. Our baby will be here soon.”

---