Page 2 of Abel's Omega
My day was spent in blissful solitude, except for the company of my pups, who didn’t detract from the sense of peace at all. They even went to bed on time, and right to sleep, and I had a few moments after the last of the housework was done to curl up on the couch with a new romance novel, complete with open-shirted hottie on the cover. They were my secret pleasure, bought from the scrapings of the household budget, pennies saved here and there by trading labor or skill with other shifters. Patrick didn’t know about them, and I never planned that he would. He’d take them, or make fun of me for them, or worse—take them as a criticism of him.
This one was a cowboy story, and I squirmed in wistful arousal while the cowboy took his city-boy lover in the open, under the stars. Some day, I’d like to do that, though not with Patrick. But if I could have a man like the cowboy, strong but loving, I was sure it would be…an experience.
The knob on the front door rattled just after curfew, and I crammed the book back down in its hiding place under the couch cushions. Patrick walked into the living room and my night went straight to hell right after.
I braced myself against the mattress on hands and knees as Patrick pounded into me from behind. Sex was never about me, but all about Patrick, and Patrick's Alpha status, and Patrick's pride in having a young, pretty omega for a mate. An omega that was less than a month away from giving him a fourth child, a fact he never seemed to get tired of bragging about. My own distaste for him didn’t mean I never had an orgasm—omegas were known for their arousability—but they’d been fewer and fewer lately.
I hoped this one was a girl. At least I sort of got to keep them, Patrick being mostly interested in our firstborn son, Fan. If it was a girl, maybe Patrick would be disappointed in me too, and start leaving me alone in the bedroom. That was really all I wanted out of the situation.
Well, that, and my baby. I loved my babies. Even Fan, spoiled as he was by his father. Patrick wanted Fan to grow up to be Alpha of a pack, like he was. I would rather he wasn't—my experience with Alphas wasn't one I wanted my first-born child to wreak on anyone. But what good would wishing do? Fan would be what his alpha father wanted him to be, because no one paid attention to omegas.
Patrick grunted and shifted his grip, changing the angle between us.Good, he must be close.I put a hand to my swollen belly, where the baby squirmed and kicked in an attempt to tell the world that he or she wasn't at all pleased with the pummeling. Patrick's grunts and growls grew louder, and I cast an anxious glance over at the cradle beside the bed, where our third child, Beatrice, was sleeping. Her eyelids twitched—a sure sign that the noise was going to wake her up.
"Patrick, you're going to wake the baby," I whispered, careful to keep my tone submissive. Patrick thought omegas should be seen and not heard, and in the beginning of our mating he’d often backed up his beliefs with some less civilized responses. Like a slap across the face, or a belt across the ass.
Beatrice whimpered and I bit my lip. Patrick was taking forever tonight. If he didn’t show signs of finishing soon, I was going to have to…move things along. I hated doing this, but it was the quickest way to get my mate off.
I tightened the muscles of my ass and began to move with Patrick's motions, as if I couldn't help myself. A few breathy moans on my part to make the deception more real, and I finally felt that swelling sensation inside my body, a sure sign of Patrick knotting, his orgasm as agonizingly slow tonight as the lead-up to it. The bulge of his cock pressed against my womb, uncomfortable for me at this stage of the pregnancy, and upsetting to the baby, who kicked and punched in revenge. I grunted as one particularly strong kick hit me under the ribs, but then Patrick was done, sliding out of me to fall back on the bed. Beatrice started making little yips and yaws, the warning signs of a full-out wail.
Quick as a shot, I was out of the bed to pick her up. And maybe to get as far away from Patrick as I could without getting in trouble. I took my moments of happiness where I could find them.
"You spoil that kid. She needs to learn to sleep through the night." Patrick's eyes gleamed in the light from the hallway.
"It was just the noise. She'll go back to sleep soon." I began a gentle bouncing in place, swaying back and forth as I hummed with the baby's head against my chest. The one in my belly stretched and I thought that, if only Patrick weren't here, I could be happy.
But happy wasn't really in the cards for an omega.
Beatrice was an easy pup, and quickly soothed back to sleep. I placed her carefully in her crib, then crawled back into the bed. My faint hope that Patrick had already gone to sleep vanished when my mate’s burly arm wrapped around my waist. His fingers spread out over the curve of my belly as if he were claiming it for his own.
“Gonna give me a boy this time?”
I froze. Something in Patrick’s tone made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. “I don’t know.” It was on the tip of my tongue to tell Patrick that we could have had an ultrasound done in Jackson, but I bit the words off before they could tumble irresponsibly from my lips.
Patrick licked the back of my neck, and I suppressed a shiver of disgust.
“Better be, or I’ll be looking for a new mate. One that can give me sons.” His hand squeezed, and then he rolled over and put his back to me.
I didn’t sleep the rest of the night, praying that I’d have a son.
CHAPTER THREE
Patrick was gone all day again, doing whatever it was outside walls. I put the pups to bed, then put them to bed again, then curled up on the couch with Fan’s head on what was left of my lap and Teca pressed against my other thigh.
They’d been clingy and whiny all day. I suppose that was my fault—my mood had been off, my thoughts constantly circling around to Patrick’s threat the night before. I’d seen him off to work with a kiss and wish for a good day, but after he was gone, depression had set in, and I’d spent most of the time hoping something would happen to keep him from coming home that night. I wanted a break, just a short one, to build up my reserves and come up with a plan of action in case this babywasa girl.
Being trapped on the couch with my grouchy darlings, I pulled my secret pleasure out from its hiding place under the cushions and spent a moment admiring the muscular physique of the cover model before diving back in. While the pups snored and yipped softly in their sleep beside me, I lost myself in a story of lust and limousines and a man that would move heaven and earth for the one he loved.
Time passed, and a knock on the door broke the silence. Quickly, I closed the book and stuffed it down inside the couch, then looked up to see Carl and Salvodoro, entering the house like it was theirs and not the Alpha’s. I glanced up at the clock and realized curfew had come and gone hours ago.
He’s dead.I didn’t know where the knowledge came from, but the truth rang through me like the tolling of a bell. I gently moved Fan off my leg and levered myself to my feet. Emotion overwhelmed me—joy at the thought that I’d never need to deal with Patrick again, laced with the bone-grinding fear of the unknown future, and a sick feeling that I wasn’t prepared for this at all.
“Baxter,” Carl said.
“What happened?” I asked. The baby inside me squirmed as my emotions leaked over into his. I put a hand on my belly, though who I thought I was reassuring I didn’t know.
Carl gave me a sympathetic stare. “Maybe you should be sitting down for this.”
My belly panged and I pressed against the sudden tension in my womb. “No. Tell me now.” When Carl remained quiet, I said, “Please. I just need to know.”
