The crude words make me moan, hips rolling involuntarily against his thigh. Everything he says hits differently now,filtered through hormones and biology that make submission feel like the most natural thing in the world.
"Aratus," I gasp as his thumb traces the edge of my breast through the thin silk of my nightgown. "Please."
"Please what?" But his tone has changed, taken on that commanding edge that never fails to make me wet. "Use your words, omega. Tell your alpha what you need."
The titles should feel wrong after everything we've built together, but they don't. If anything, they feel more real now—not roles we're playing but fundamental truths about what we are to each other.
"Touch me," I breathe. "I need your hands on me. Inside me. I need?—"
"Everything," he finishes, rolling until he's above me, his weight supported on his forearms. "You need everything I can give you."
"Yes." The word comes out broken, desperate. "Yes, Alpha. Everything."
He kisses me then, deep and possessive, his tongue claiming my mouth while his hands work at the ties of my nightgown. The silk slides away like water, leaving me naked beneath him, my skin flushed and aching for his touch.
"So beautiful like this," he murmurs against my throat, teeth grazing the mark he left during my claiming. "Pregnant with my children. Glowing with my seed."
His words are pure breeding kink, designed to remind me exactly what I am—his omega, bred and claimed and thoroughly owned. But instead of shame, they send heat spiraling through me, making my pussy pulse with need.
"Look at you," he continues, hands mapping the changes pregnancy has brought to my body. "Tits getting fuller. Hips widening. Everything about you screaming that you belong to me."
"I do," I gasp as his mouth closes around one sensitive nipple. "I belong to you. Only you."
The admission would have killed me six months ago. Now it feels like freedom—the freedom to want exactly what I have, to embrace what I've become instead of fighting it.
His tongue circles my nipple, making me arch beneath him with a cry. Every sensation is magnified, pleasure so intense it borders on pain. When he bites down gently, I nearly come from that alone.
"Sensitive," he observes with dark satisfaction. "These beautiful tits getting ready to feed our children. Going to be so full soon, so heavy."
The image he's painting—me swollen with milk, completely his in every biological sense—makes me writhe against him.
"Will you still want me then?" The question slips out before I can stop it, vulnerability threading through the arousal. "When I'm huge and clumsy and can barely move?"
He lifts his head, ice-blue eyes burning with something that might be offended. "Want you? Elise, I'm going to worship every inch of your pregnant body. Going to spend hours with my tongue buried in your pussy, making you come until you can't remember your own name."
His hand slides down my body, fingers tracing the small curve of my belly before moving lower. "Going to fuck you so carefully, so thoroughly, making sure you never doubt who you belong to."
When his fingers find my pussy, I'm already soaking wet, slick coating my thighs. He groans at the feel of it, fingers sliding easily through my folds.
"Always so ready for me now," he murmurs, circling my clit with maddening lightness. "Pregnancy making you desperate for your alpha's cocks."
"Yes," I gasp, hips rolling against his hand. "Need you. Need you inside me."
"I know you do." He slides one finger inside me, and I moan at the invasion. "But I want to play with you first. Want to see how many times I can make you come before you're begging for my cocks."
The promise makes me clench around his finger, more slick flooding out of me. He adds a second finger, stretching me, and I throw my head back with a cry.
"That's it," he encourages, thumb finding my clit as his fingers work inside me. "Let me hear you. Let the whole palace know how much their queen loves being fucked by her alpha."
The title hits me like a physical blow. Queen. Not just his omega anymore, but his equal in ruling this court. A woman with power who chooses to submit because it feels like home.
"Your queen," I gasp, the words coming out on a moan as he curves his fingers to hit that spot inside me that makes me see stars. "Your omega queen."
"Mine," he growls, adding a third finger, stretching me wider. "My omega. My queen. My perfect breeding slut."
The crude words push me over the edge, orgasm crashing through me with devastating force. I cry out his name, back arching as pleasure tears through every nerve ending. He works me through it, fingers never stopping their relentless rhythm.
When I finally come down, gasping and shaking, he's watching me with those predatory eyes that still make my heart race.
