Page 83 of Bred
With the birth only weeks away, my nervousness returned.
During his visits to check the progress of the pregnancy, Tannyl had repeated Artin’s warning about what happened to the surrogates after the birth—they were never heard of again, or seen in the kingdom. Surely, it wasn’t hard to believe that they were dispatched or even banished in return for their sacrifice.
In the night, as the moon rose high above the citadel, I turned to darker thoughts. Venali’s steady breathing and the sound of spring rain against the chamber window should have comforted me, but all I could think of was what would happen to me after the child was born.
Could he really cast me out or allow my life to end… after all we had shared—
“What is it?”
His voice was slow and steady, and undulled by sleep. He had been awake listening to me sigh and squirm.
“The child,” I murmured. “Your son is restless tonight.”
His warm hand slipped over my hip and rubbed over the roundness of my belly.
“You’re lying,” he murmured. “The babe is dreaming of his first day in the spring air, as you should be.”
Tears pricked my lashes, and I blinked them away. Tannyl and Artin would have me believe that I would never see my son’s first breaths or hear his first cry.
“I am trying,” I said.
“You have been distracted,” he said. “Is there nothing I can do?”
Without meaning to, I grabbed his arm, and then had to physically hold myself back from tugging him over me. It was a ridiculous notion when I couldn’t even lie fully on my own stomach anymore. He rose up on his elbow to kiss me, and I could only hope that I could distract him from my worries with the promise of my body.
His hand moved to cup my neck, thumb rubbing circles on my tender flesh. The feel of his fingers was different. Larger and thicker, less intense than the scorching heat of his mouth.
I sighed into his kiss with pleasure and gripped his shoulder tight. His knee was between my legs, a comforting weight without being demanding. When his mouth left mine to move down the curve of my neck, I had no breath to protest and squeezed my thighs together as he licked his way down to my collarbone.
“Venali,” I hissed as I gripped the back of his neck.
“Yes?” he asked, still rubbing my neck with his fingers. I had expected him to move of his own accord down my body. Yet, he hadn’t, and that left my full breasts aching, wanting attention.
The king smiled as he tugged at the ribbon that held my shift closed, and as the fine material fell away, he drew a breath in between his teeth and then his mouth closed over the exposed peak of my nipple.
He groaned as he suckled at my breast, and I let out a soft moan as my back arched in response.
My breasts were so sensitive, and I felt an immediate pang to know that my swollen nipples were leaking milk. But the king seemed not to care, and the press of his hard cock against me did not signal any reluctance on his part.
Before, my breasts had just felt heavy and sore, but his swirling tongue was nearly too intense.
I was trembling all over already, and he had barely started; I tried to pull him closer. “Oh, stop, stop, don’t stop!”
To his credit, he did not heed my pleas, instead drawing his hand over my other breast to massage it lightly with his palm, the slickness of my milk only lubricated his attentions and I moaned and gasped, pushing and twisting readily into his hand, as well as I could with my swollen belly.
His hand moved to caress the roundness of my stomach as he sucked gently on one nipple. The feel of his hand on my belly while his mouth teased and inflamed my breasts left me torn; reminding me all at once that I was large with child and yet... the overpowering want for him had her tight in its grip.
The ache I felt for him had only grown sharper as my pregnancy advanced, and I could not stop my yearning for him any more than I could stop the rain that drove against the chamber window.
The king flicked his tongue over the hard peak of my nipple, and then bit down lightly around the dusky pink bud, drawing a hard moan from my lips.
“Oh please,” I whimpered, thighs opening. It was almost embarrassing how quickly I was reduced to squirming desperation under his touch.
His hand slid down the side of my stomach, agonizingly slow, to the taut skin below, and he brushed his fingers against my pussy gently before brazenly cupping my sex.
“Here?” he teased.
Of course, I should have known that he couldn’t resist, but my only answer was another shaking moan. I knew I was slick and ready for him, and when he slid a finger inside me, I cried out softly and whimpered for more.
