Page 29 of Slow Birth
“No, I suppose you’re not.”
“Though I didn’t enjoy it much with betas. It was clear my cock hurt them.” Jason shrugged. “It’s better with you.”
“Of course, it is. We’reÉrosgápe. Nothing compares.”
“Even if we hadn’t been, I’d enjoy it more with you.”
“Oh, sweet baby alpha, you are too good. Come here.”
“I’m not done with the fire,” Jason protested.
“But my dick needs to be sucked and my asshole rimmed, and I want to come.”
Jason groaned and sucked down a sip of his whiskey. “You tempting little slut,” he murmured.
Vale unbuttoned his pants and slipped them down and off. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, and by the time Jason had the fire going and turned around, Vale was naked and hard in the wing-backed chair.
“Ah damn,” Jason said, standing and sipping his drink with a bulge in the front of his pants. “Look at you. All mine.”
Vale ran his hands over his rounding stomach, touched his puffy nipples, and then tipped his head back with a groan. Jason knelt between his thighs and the wet heat of his mouth closing over the cut crown of Vale’s dick was enough to stop the sweet need for his alpha’s touch. The pressure of Jason’s fingers at his asshole was the only warning he got before Jason was working him open in preparation for Vale’s nightly fisting.
Just like Urho had prescribed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
One month later
“I’m going tomurder your pater,” Vale said suddenly in the middle of the night, waking Jason from a dead sleep.
“Mm, what?” Surely, he’d misheard.
“I’m going to kill him. With my bare hands.”
“Baby, what are you talking about?” Jason asked, turning on the bedside lamp and rolling onto one elbow so that he could look down at Vale’s beautiful, if slightly puffy, face.
“He comes here every night, Jason. Every. Single. Night.”
“They’re excited to be grandparents. He wants to check on you.”
“And your father, too. I’m going to kill him as well. Double homicide.”
Jason blinked and wiped a hand over his face in exhaustion. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Because that spicy quinoa your father brought over—and your pater forced me to eat—has given me the most outrageous heartburn. My esophagus and mouth are on fire.”
“Let me get some milk,” Jason said, crawling from the bed. “That will help.”
“What will help is if your parents left me alone for one single solitary day.”
Jason ignored that and went downstairs for milk, nearly tripping over Zephyr on the way down. A glance out the kitchen window showed that their neighbor’s lights were still on. Frowning, Jason saw moving shadows going back and forth, like someone pacing and coughing.
After pouring the milk, Jason scooped Zephyr up into his arms, too, and carried her and the milk up to the bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him and dumped Zephyr onto the bed by Vale, who immediately cooed and put out his hand for Zephyr to bump against. Jason put the milk down on the bedside table.
“Mr. Ragnak’s beta partner has caught the flu, I think,” Jason said. He sat beside Vale, putting one hand on Vale’s forehead to check for fever. The other, he placed on his large, swollen abdomen, feeling for the baby’s movement. Over the last few weeks, Vale’s body had grown to accommodate the life rapidly expanding inside him. There had been more complaints as the days went on, mainly ligament and bone pain as his body shifted in readiness. When Jason put his fist inside now, he could feel the weight of the child bearing down on him. He worked his knuckles into the scars more vigorously each night, keeping them as limber and supple as possible as Vale’s body put pressure on them.
“Oh, no,” Vale murmured, stroking Zephyr’s fur, calmed as usual by his cat’s warm presence. “He’s a good man. We should send over some fruit. And perhaps Urho.”
“Urho will be here tomorrow to check on you, not them,” Jason said firmly. The last thing he wanted was Urho bringing the virus into their home. “How is your stomach doing?”
