The Alpha's Addiction [BXB]

Chapter 52: Son

Today has not been my day. I can't seem to keep anything down. Cyrus is desperate, bringing me a wide variety of foods to pick from, only for me to react badly to them all. After needing to vomit from a couple sips of soup, I slump on the bedroom floor in tears. 

"I will get you something else, my moon," Cyrus assures as he scoops me up and sits me on the bed, swaddling my shivering frame in blankets. I don't bother to tell him I don't think it's from chill, but rather the sheer discomfort I'm in. 

"You've practically brought the entire kitchen up here," I sniffle. "What more will they even have?"

"Then I'll go to my mother. She has her gardens--"

"It's fine, seriously," I shake my head. "I feel terrible, wasting all this food. And making you run around like this,"

"My mate must be fed. I have no problem with it, and Oliver or me will eat anything you don't,"

Despite his assurances, when he makes towards the door, I burst out in a fresh sob. "Goddess, stop it already! I'm fine!" I snap, making him halt in his tracks. Immediately, I regret it, crying even more. "Oh, Goddess, I-I'm sorry. I'm being so ungrateful. I just want y-you to stay,"

His face softens, before he's crossing back across the room to sit beside me on the bed, pulling me into his lap. I melt into him instantly, breathing in his soothing scent. It's been the only thing that doesn't make me feel remotely nauseous since I got pregnant. I bury my nose in his neck, inhaling deeply as he massages my back with a big, firm hand. "You don't need to be sorry. You're pregnant, and I'm fussing over you like an overbearing mother hen,"

I huff with amusement at that, pulling back to press a kiss to his cheek. It's not lost on me how much work it is, caring for a pregnant person. Turns out we can be real pains in the ass. Especially me, apparently. "Still, I'm sorry. I just hate that my discomfort affects everyone like this. And I can't even leave the room...I feel so useless,"

"You're growing our pup inside you, Koa," he strokes my hair back, kissing my forehead. "You are so strong. My brave little omega,"

I can't help but preen at that, cheeks flushing as I gaze up at him. I'm convinced I have the most wonderful mate in the world. He's been so attentive, getting me anything I need and taking care of Oliver while I've been weak in bed, recovering from my lingering injuries while simultaneously nourishing a growing pup with my body. I tamp down the nagging voice in the back of my mind saying I don't deserve him, instead leaning up to kiss him. 

He kisses me back languidly, not pressing for more, always so patient and careful with me since what happened. While my chest aches at how thoughtful he is, a small part of me feels sad that he hasn't been pulling any moves on me. Which is stupid, considering the thought of full blown sex terrifies me right now. It feels like all of that progress we'd made with intimacy was lost the second I fell back into Zacan's hands. I don't want to be like this forever. This fragile, easily broken doll that Cyrus is afraid to touch. 

So I push into him, hardening the press of my lips against his. I let my mouth open tentatively, thankful I had half the mind to wash it out and brush my teeth after the soup incident earlier. To my pleasure, he follows my lead, letting out a low noise that has my thighs clenching. I surge forward, wrapping my arms around his neck as our tongues make contact, melding together in a mind-numbing dance. His mouth is so hot, his tongue eager against mine as we fall back on the bed, me writhing on top of him. I kick off the blankets in a flurry, breaking away for only a moment before he's pulling me back in, arms circling my waist as I cup his nape, delving my tongue deeper. 

He tastes so fucking good. I moan, unable to get enough of him as our mouths move eagerly against each other, tongues desperately laving in a way that has me hopelessly aroused. I'm pressed tight up against his body, heat building in my core as his chest rises and falls rapidly beneath me. He devours me like that, hands travelling up under my shirt as one of my mine rakes through his hair, the other clutching his jaw to keep him close as humanly possible.