Page 34 of Mating the Omega
It was tempting to laze around a little longer; the bed was so warm and comfortable, and I’d been up twice during the night to pee. It was getting harder to find a comfortable position to sleep in, with the baby bump being more of a hill now. He’d shifted at some point over the past week, too, and now there seemed to be some part of him standing on my bladder most of the day and night. Mac appeared to sleep through most of my nocturnal wanderings, but I’d never before in my life been so thankful for my early training in ‘don’t disturb the alpha’. Not that he’d be angry if I woke him, but he needed his rest. He’d been taking on more of my responsibilities in my garden, plus meeting with Garrick and the lawyer, and he was still Head of Security.
And I was only four months along. What were we going to do at six months? Probably stay up all night.
The door closed downstairs and Mac’s feet started thumping up the stairs. Checking on me, I guess. I think I’d told him I’d be there at nine? It was ten already, according to my phone.
“Hey,” he said, standing in the doorway. His gaze roamed greedily over the lump in my middle. “How are my two favorite people in the world this morning?”
“Ready to pee. And then eat. He’s still asleep. Help me up before he realizes it’s time to start his calisthenics again?”
Mac came to me with his hands held out and a tender smile on his face. I loved seeing that look, loved knowing it was for me. I knew that this was a side of him only a few people saw, and I cherished the fact that he felt he could show it to me.
He pulled and I swung my feet out of the bed and let him do most of the work. Mac seemed to enjoy that, looking after me. I’d started seeing people differently since I came here. In my old pack, it was the responsibility of the omegas to make sure everything went right, that everyone’s needs and feelings were looked after. The nurturing all landed on the omegas’ backs. But here, there seemed to be as much nurturing done by the alphas and betas as there was by myself and the one other omega in the enclave. More, really. I couldn’t imagine being the only omega in a pack, the weight of that responsibility and those expectations, though Mac’s omega cousin Bram said he’d never felt it.
Speaking of… “Is Bram meeting us at the garden?”
“He’s already there. I left him with your plan for the lettuce rows you wanted dug up and reseeded.”
What? “Why didn’t you wake me when you got up?” I demanded, and hurried past him to get to the bathroom. Little Mac had woken up and was doing some sort of hip-hop routine on my bladder and if I didn’t get there soon, I was going to have a mess to clean up before I got to go to the garden.
Mac caught up to me as I finished, laughing gently while I washed my hands. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his fingers spread wide to cover the curve of my belly. Little Mac kicked and Big Mac laughed again. “Strong. I knew you’d make strong babies.” He turned me around and kissed me.
All thoughts of the garden fled. With a full night’s sleep under my belt, and everything under my belt recently emptied, it occurred to me that we hadn’t had any sort of bedroom exercise since Little Mac got big enough to ram his head into my liver while stomping on my bladder.
The garden could wait a while longer.
I shuffled forward, guiding him backward out of the bathroom, my mouth hungry on his. He huffed in surprise, but didn’t complain when I pulled his shirt out of his pants and started undoing the buttons. Hard muscle under my hands, and I was ready to have him in the hall, but Little Mac made something like that more problematic than it used to be.
Of course, I was already naked, and I took full advantage of that, rubbing any part of me that could reach against his warm skin. At some point in this pregnancy, I knew I’d be a whale, but right now I was still regaining the weight I’d lost to the morning sickness and, aside from Little Mac’s bump, I was still as slim as I had been when I was single.
Mac’s hands ran down my back to cup my ass while we backed through the door. I undid the fastenings of his pants and shoved them down his legs. He stumbled getting his feet out of them, and fell on the bed.
“Why, Mac, what a fantastic idea,” I said, with a sarcastic grin. “I do believe I’ll join you there.”
He laughed—so gorgeous—and crab-walked into the middle of the mattress. “Come here, beautiful.” He pulled me down beside him and caught me up in a passionate kiss. His hands glided over my skin, pulling us belly to belly. Little Mac was pretty worked up and we laughed we kissed and sucked and Little Mac demanded to know what the hell was going on. Mac rolled me onto my back and laid a trail of kisses from my neck, across my chest, down over the curve of my belly, trying to catch all the bumps and thumps of Little Mac. “Kissing them better,” he told me, his eyes rich with love as he watched me gasp and squirm with desire for him.
Then he moved down farther, and I felt him take my cock in his mouth. I gasped, this time in shock. “Mac!”
He reappeared over the horizon of my swollen womb. “I like it, and you do too. Hush, lie back and obey your alpha.”
“Like that’s ever going to happen,” I muttered, but I did as I was told. I did like it, but I was still getting past the long-whispered rule that it was the omega’s job to please, particularly in bed. The old beliefs still popped up every once in a while, usually when I was most vulnerable. Like now, with Mac licking his way up and down my cock, teasing at the head and sucking me into the warm tightness of his mouth. I twisted my hands into the bedclothes and strained with the effort not to thrust into him, to try to take by force what he gave me so willingly.
Four months, and I knew for sure now that I loved him. I’d arrived here desperate, willing to mate for the promise of safety and security, and instead I’d found my fairy tale. I unwrapped one hand from the twisted sheets and reached down, fingertips brushing against his cheek as he moved. He raised his own hand and twined his fingers in mine, a strong hold to keep me from flying apart.
“Oh, Mac,” I moaned, shifting my legs restlessly. Little Mac had quietened, but his restlessness had somehow transferred to me. “Mac, please, I need…” My voice trailed off. I still didn’t know how to tell him things I needed, not really. I could hint, and leave clues, but when it came to outright asking, I was all omega.
But he’d learned to read me over the four months we’d lived together. “You’re close?” he asked, his voice husky and deep, with a thread of his power inside it.
I nodded wildly, watching the ceiling, trying to ignore my body. “I want you inside me.”
“You’re not too far along?”
“That’s a myth. Please, Mac.” I raised my head and stared at him pleadingly.
“All right,” he whispered, and kissed his way up my belly again. He grabbed one of the pillows and helped me push it beneath my hips. I needed the boost now, to open myself to him. He kissed me deeply, then pushed inside far too slowly for my liking. I groaned a protest into his mouth, forcing my hips up, trying to take him all at once.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured.
I laughed. “Are you forgetting the full moon a month ago?” We’d gone, like good little citizens, to the monthly party the pack held. It was potluck, with everyone contributing. Then there’d been dancing, and I’d teased Mac until he chased me into the woods to deal with my ‘un-omega-like’ behavior. And we hadn’t made it back out again until morning, missing both the moon and the run.
