Chapter Twelve: Rex

F eeling our son moving around inside Damon was one thing, but seeing the little guy on the ultrasound screen was something else entirely.

I don't know why, but seeing the distinctly shaped small person —with his large head, curved spine, and perfectly formed fingers and toes— moving around on the two-dimensional, black and white screen made the whole situation feel even more real.

That was an honest-to-God baby.

That was my baby.

"Little guy's measuring on track for thirty-four weeks gestation," Eric told us cheerfully, bending over a notepad to jot the information down. "Well, that's sticking with the timeline and the theory that omega pregnancies run for roughly the same forty weeks as humans or betas. It held true for Ollie, and it seems to be the same for you."

As I understood it, Eric was documenting the similarities and differences between Ollie and Damon's experiences at the same stages, and theorizing on whether the differences were due to the nature of multiples vs singular fetuses, or because the men were different breeds of shifter.

Eric spun back around on his wheeled stool, bringing the transducer wand back to the lubricated, exposed skin of Damon's belly. The smile he shot me was warm and understanding. "Want to hear the heartbeat?"

Beck had already warned me that this was Eric's favorite part, but I was keen to hear it anyway. I nodded with enthusiasm and leaned forward in my chair, which was situated next to the examination table. I'd been unable to tear my gaze from the screen across from me for very long, and I'd been fixated on the flickering in the middle of our son's chest, bewildered by just how fast his tiny heart seemed to be beating.

"Yes, please," I answered redundantly, because Eric was already reaching with his left hand to flip a switch on the complicated machine attached to the transducer wand.

A fast whoosh-whoosh-whoosh came through the speakers, the sound in time with the fluttering on the screen.

Holy shit. That's his heartbeat.

My own heart picked up pace, seemingly thudding in tandem with the baby's. I was glad I was sitting down. Emotion lodged itself in my throat and my chest felt tight. Hell, tears even welled in my eyes. I blinked rapidly against them.

"Wow," I croaked, startling as Damon threaded our fingers together.

"Roughly six weeks to go, and he'll be here," Eric continued blithely, oblivious to just how overwhelmed I was.

Six weeks .

That sounded like no time at all.

"You can still run," Damon teased, and that got me to tear my blurred gaze away from the screen. When I looked at him, he lifted the corner of his lips. "I see you panicking, babe."

Babe .

Huh.

While I used a number of endearments on Damon, it was new to hear him flipping the table and using one on me. New, but welcome. So damn welcome. I loved his fire and sass, but those moments where he dropped the fa?ade and let me see the softer, vulnerable side he kept hidden kept me coming back for more.

We were still taking things slowly, but he had started dropping his walls and letting me in. I cherished that trust more than I could say.

My panic began to recede and breathing came easier again. I shook my head and smirked, "I've told you, kitten; I ain't goin' nowhere."

Damon's expression softened and became warmer as he squeezed my hand. "You always get more country when you're emotional," he murmured. "It's really cute."

"You only get to call me cute 'cause you're carryin' our kid," I pretended to grumble. Meanwhile, on the inside, I was doing a happy dance over his assessment.

He thought I was cute.

"Newsflash," he snarked back playfully, unable to stop himself from smiling, "I thought you were cute the night we met, too."

"Liar. You thought I was hot as sin."

"Cute."

"Sexy. "

"Cute."

"A silver fox."

"Cute."

"Gentlemen…" Eric interrupted our silly little game, sounding both exasperated and amused. He gestured to the screen and said, "I'm going to print you off some photos, but we're otherwise done here. We'll do another scan in four weeks and, at that time, I'll also scan to check on the progress of your birth canal, Damon."

Damon cringed, wrinkling his nose. "Can't you guys just do a C-section? Ollie's description leaves a lot to be desired."

"Brandt and I have discussed omega caesarians," Eric's tone was gentle, and I knew before he said anything that Damon's request was about to be carefully rebuffed, "and we're of the agreement that, with the exception of emergency situations, it's not worth the risk. As omegas, our bodies are constructed slightly differently to human or beta females…and there are enough inherent risks in a traditional C-section without adding the difference in physiology that being an omega brings to the table."

Damon pouted as Eric wiped the lubricant from his belly. "Well that sucks. Ollie said there's a fuckton of pain…and that I'll shift to grow a new hole…and did I mention the pain? Oh, and the post-partum bleeding? Because ew , Eric. Ew."

The dragon wasn't swayed. He just rolled his eyes. "Human and beta females go through something similar, including the pain and post-partum bleeding. Even those who have C-sections recover from birth the same way. I suspect your body would still form the birth canal to release the blood from the–"

"I can't hear you," Damon covered his ears, but Eric ignored him, finishing calmly .

"—open blood vessels which form after the placenta comes away from the uterine wall."

Even I cringed at the description. Why couldn't it be like the movies? A little bit of pushing and yelling and then hey presto! Clean, chubby baby and none of the medical gore. I was glad I was the alpha in this situation, even if I also felt a bit guilty that I'd inadvertently been responsible for what Damon would have to experience.

Damon groaned, shutting his eyes. "We're never doing this again," he muttered, and the words made my stomach flip-flop.

Yet another confirmation that he saw a future for us.

"I'd never ask you to," I answered honestly.

Cracking an eye open, he squinted through it. "Is this because you didn't want any kids?"

Danger! Trick question!

Even Eric cleared his throat and busied himself with his notes, the coward.

"I want this baby," my reply was firm and without any hesitation. "But I'm already forty-two. I don't think I'm young enough to start a whole brood. However," I added carefully, "you're my mate, kitten. If you wanted more babies, I'd think about it."

At the end of the day, his happiness meant more to me than my hangups. Besides, didn't shifters have a longer lifespan than humans?

"Relax, cowboy," he gave me a little smile, "I don't think I want more, either. I mean, we can always see how this one goes, but…well, my vision of the future kind of stops at one kid."

It didn't escape my notice that he hadn't refuted my calling him my mate .

"Whatever you want, darlin'," I grinned, unable to contain my happiness.

"Now help me up," he demanded, "I've gotta pee."

* * *

Over the course of the next five weeks, I spent every free moment I had getting my cottage finalized. The mountain lion inside me was becoming more agitated as our son's due date loomed, and I suspected he was just as anxious about Damon still wanting to live in his poky apartment as I was. I knew he was anxious about the most recent feedback from the neighborhood watch Beck had set up. Shifters Sanctuary hadn't seen any suspicious newcomers at all. None. That felt wrong. My alpha agreed.

God damn, but it felt weird thinking of my inner alpha as a separate entity.

We were one and the same…and yet somehow different. I couldn't fully explain the sensation, just that my shifter side felt like his own person at times. Or, rather, his own cat.

But back to the original point. It wasn't that I didn't respect Damon's wishes. I just had this deep-seated urge to protect my mate and cub. How could I do that if we lived on opposite ends of town? Especially when we had no idea what Morstein was planning, or when he and his kin would act. And they would act, I was sure of it.

Still, I knew better than to push Damon just because I was feeling overly protective the closer we got to his due date. We had been making good progress on our relationship since I'd arrived in town. I wasn't dumb enough to undo it all by giving in to my mildly irrational shifter urges, especially when all signs pointed to things being quiet on the cult-y front.

Besides, I was a shifter who couldn't shift. Just how much protecting did my inner puma think he could do while he was stuck on the inside, anyway?

Instead of voicing those thoughts or wallowing in my concerns, I reveled in Damon's increased displays of affection. The more he seemed to understand I wasn't going to leave, the more he opened up. He was still sassy, but less prickly with me. And, on one memorable occasion, possessive as fuck. That had been hot as sin.

He'd brought lunch to Sam & Becca's farm during his first week of forced leave from his job, and had stumbled upon me mucking out the stalls. It was an unseasonably warm day and the labor-intensive job had seen me removing my shirt only fifteen minutes before his surprise arrival. His hungry gaze had swept over my body and his Adam's apple had bobbed tellingly…and then he'd caught sight of Tim.

Tim, Sam and Becca's barely legal at nineteen-years-old omega son.

Tim, who I'll admit seemed really quite interested in learning about alphas.

Tim, who might have been giggling at my antics as I regaled him with tales from the farm I'd grown up on as we mucked the stalls together.

I hadn't made it to almost forty-three without some sense of what might seem like a compromising situation under specific circumstances. I had opened my mouth to try and head off any potential misunderstanding, but Damon had raised his chin, offered Tim an incredibly frosty smile and greeting, and had pointedly stared the younger omega down in an unspoken challenge. Damon may as well have shifted and pissed on my leg, marking his territory in every way possible.

At that point, if he'd been shifted, I assumed Tim would have literally fled with his tail between his legs. As it was, he'd turned pink and made a swift retreat in human form.

Damon's smile had turned into one of smug self-satisfaction before he'd closed the distance between us and kissed me with more heat and passion than I had been braced for, rubbing against me, covering me with his scent.

I'd had an erection that wouldn't quit for hours after that. My inner cat had felt claimed, and my feelings had never felt more reciprocated.

Then, as his due date seemed to rush at us, Damon nested, for lack of a better description. Eric and Brandt had made him completely stop working at his thirty-sixth week, which came as a relief — or at least it did for me. His belly had grown to a point where I knew his back and hips ached more often than not, and staying put in his bed or on the couch was preferable to walking around town. Even so, he had turned his nose up at the strange inflatable thing Ollie had bought him to supposedly ease his sleeping woes. Instead, Damon's bed now housed a mountain of pillows to support his back and bump, and I was pretty sure he had shifted into his mountain lion form and curled up to sleep among them on more than one occasion. (I kept finding fur in his bed.)

But, during his thirty-ninth week of pregnancy, when I arrived at his apartment with a bag of takeout from the town diner after a long-ass day on the farm, I was not greeted by the sleepy, uncomfortable Damon I'd become familiar with. No…instead, I was greeted by a version of the man similar to the one I'd first met in a bar.

His eyes were bright and his smile was sultry as he tugged me into his apartment by the collar of my gingham shirt. I barely managed to get out a ‘hey' in greeting before his lips were on mine, his talented tongue begging entrance into my mouth.

It had been weeks since Damon had had the energy to do more than cuddle, and my cock was more than happy to go with this sudden —but entirely welcome— change of pace.

Deciding that the burgers I'd bought would be just fine eaten cold, I dropped the paper bag on the couch as Damon manhandled me towards the bed.

"I'm so horny I could die," he declared between kisses, moments before he shoved me backwards onto the mattress.

"Well, we can't have— oof! " I landed among the pile of pillows and barely had time to get myself situated properly before Damon was crawling over my body, his belly grazing my thighs and cock, then stomach. My hands moved to his hips, supporting him as he wriggled and maneuvered his shirt over his head, tossing it to parts unknown. In my jeans, my own dick strained under the unintentional lapdance, and it only got harder as my eyes drank in my lover's exposed skin. "That's it, kitten," I praised, smoothing my hands up his sides, "take what you need from me. I've got you."

He undulated his hips, more graceful than I would have been if I'd been nine months pregnant, closing his eyes and sighing with delight. But then he crawled back off me to rummage through his bedside table drawer, and I wanted to whine.

I had no idea what he was looking for, considering we didn't need lube or condoms, but I didn't have to wait long.

"Ah ha!" he declared triumphantly, turning to show me his find.

My eyes bulged from their sockets and I scrambled to sit up against the headboard. "What are you plannin' on doin' with that?" I gestured to the bundle he held in a loose fist.

Rope .

It was red and had a shine to it, and even though I hadn't reached out to touch it, I knew it would be silky beneath my fingertips.

Biting his lip, my kitten turned shy. "I was hoping you'd be the one doing stuff with it," he answered.

My heart hammered. " Now? " Holding up my index finger, I took a moment to breathe, aware that my question had come out sharp and incredulous. When I looked back at him again, I was careful to soften my tone. "Darlin', you're due to give birth next week…"

"I Googled," he insisted, crawling back onto the mattress, still clutching the figure eight of soft red rope. "And, yeah, there are some positions that we should avoid, but some that are still safe. We just have to err on the vanilla side this time, that's all."

This time .

"I mean," he continued before I could get hung up on the implications of those two little words, "you're a cowboy. You said you were good with ropes when I asked."

I couldn't deny that. Weeks earlier, the topic of rope play had come up seemingly out of the blue, and I'd admitted that I did have some experience with the kink, and that I did enjoy it. Damon had nodded, humming thoughtfully, and the conversation had moved on. I'd thought that maybe —just maybe— we might revisit the topic and negotiate a scene one day, but never in a million years would I have thought it would happen before he gave birth. Especially not so close to his due date.

But Damon was impulsive. I'd known that about him since the moment we met. I liked that about him.

Still, doing any kind of BDSM without pre-negotiations made me uncomfortable.

"I'm not sayin' no," I told him gently, reaching out to splay my hand over his rounded belly in the hopes that my touch would be reassuring. "But we can't just launch into somethin' like this. Now, I've got a fairly good idea of your physical limitations at the moment, but what about your emotional ones? You ever been tied up before?"

He shook his head and I hated seeing the tears welling in his eyes, as well as the pink flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. His expression was chagrined and he kept his gaze averted.

"Kitten, look at me," I insisted, and he did, once again bestowing that absolute trust in me. I wouldn't break it. Not now, not ever.

I smiled softly. "If this is somethin' you really wanna try tonight, we're gonna do it real slow and basic, okay? No elaborate shibari all over your belly, nothing too tight or restrictive, and I'm not putting you in a position that could hurt you or the baby. Not even accidentally."

Damon nodded enthusiastically. "I was thinking—hang on, let me show you." He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and swiped at the screen before turning it to face me. "Something like this?"

I scanned the webpage he had navigated to, realization dawning on me. He'd been researching. He'd ordered the rope online. This wasn't just a spur of the moment idea: this was something he had wanted for a while.

I flashed back to Christmas, to how wet he'd gotten at the tiny show of dominance I'd put on, and everything seemed to click into place. Damon, for all of his prickly-as-a-cactus outer shell, wanted someone to take charge of him.

Well, I could do that!

"Okay," I agreed after a long moment of consideration. "We can do that." I cocked my head. "Where are your shears?"

My kitten practically scrambled back off the bed, digging through his nightstand again. He pulled the shiny new shears out and showed them to me before setting them down on top of the same bedside table, dropping his phone next to them.

"Need help getting your pants off?" I asked. Bending had become an issue for him, and I enjoyed helping him dress and undress.

"Nah," he stretched out the waistband of his loose pajama bottoms and slid them down over the curve of his ass. Gravity took care of the rest, leaving him completely naked.

I thought he was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen.

"Aren't you stripping, too?"

His plaintive question shook me from my ogling, and I grinned. "Want me to put on a show for you, kitten?"

"Please."

We switched places, with him on the bed and me standing in front of it. I hummed the tune of Joe Cocker's ‘You Can Leave Your Hat On' as I performed my impromptu striptease, moving my hips in the best Magic Mike impersonation I could manage. I felt silly, but the heat in Damon's gaze kept me going.

By the time I was shirtless and had pulled my belt free from its loops, cracking it in the air like a whip before I dropped it to the ground, Damon was stroking his dick and making the sweetest whimpering sounds.

I turned around and faced the bathroom door as I popped the button over my fly, then unzipped, hooking my thumbs into the waistbands of both my jeans and underwear. Still humming, I swayed my hips and inched the fabric down, exposing a hint of my ass cheeks.

Damon whined low in the back of his throat. Glancing over my shoulder, I grinned.

"See somethin' you like, darlin'?"

He nodded and swallowed roughly. "Stop teasing, Rex."

That got a laugh out of me. "But you wanted a show."

"I've changed my mind. Please. I need…" he squirmed, his hold on his dick tightening on his next upstroke. I was worried he was going to hurt himself.

Abandoning the act, I dropped my pants and stepped out of them, making a beeline for the bed.

"Still want the rope?" I asked, "Or just my knot?"

The pun, lame as it was, wasn't even intentional. It went over his head anyway. Or maybe he was just so horny he didn't care for my silly jokes at that point.

With his eyes shut, he tilted his head back and sighed, as though my proximity had eased some of his desperation. "Tie me up, Alpha. I'm yours."

Whoa .

That was a headrush.

Tingles swept through me, and my shifter side purred with satisfaction.

Whether Damon had intended it or not, it felt like he had completely accepted me as his alpha. Not just as a Dom to his submissive side, but as the Alpha to his Omega. I knew deep in my bones that we would both still cede status to Beckett as the Pack Alpha, but this felt like he had still chosen me as his. Almost like the way Beck had described bonding, but without the mind-link.

Coupled with his increased displays of trust and affection, and the possessive display with Tim, I wanted to shout from the rooftops that I loved him and I was pretty sure he felt the same.

"And you're mine, kitten. My omega. My mate." I had no idea what had spurred me to reply that way, so strangely formally, but it made the tingling sensation beneath my skin hum with additional pleasure.

Fuck, but I needed to get inside him.

Damon whined again. "Rex, please …"

Right. The rope.

I unfurled the twin lengths of silky, smooth bondage rope and got familiar with the weight and tension of it. As a benefit of my profession, I considered myself somewhat of a rope aficionado. I could tell you the difference between a head rope and a calf rope, could explain why not all ropes are lassos, could go into the necessity for breakaway ropes…and I could tie knots more proficiently than a sailor. As Damon had rightly assumed, that carried over to my skills in the bedroom. Bondage, while not an everyday thing for me, came naturally. Especially rope play.

The rope I held in my hands as I got Damon into position, his back supported by half a ton of pillows, was high quality. It was going to be gentle on his skin, regardless of how tight I tied it. Not that I had plans to go hard on him when he was so heavily pregnant. I knew his blood flow was increased and that he'd had some fluid retention issues. I wasn't going to risk any circulation or nerve damage problems if I could help it.

The image he'd shown me on his phone was of a frog tie position, which I agreed would be the most comfortable this far along in his pregnancy. It involved tying his ankle to his thigh in what was called a ‘double column' tie, using a couple of variations of knotting styles.

I decided he'd be more comfortable reclining against the mountain of pillows with his legs splayed, able to plant his feet on the mattress for stability, rather than resting on his knees with his thighs and ankles tied behind him. After checking that he'd stretched and that he was okay with my plan, I asked him to tell me his safe word before we got started.

His eyes widened. "I need a safe word?"

I swear to the Gods, I almost called red then and there.

But he was so excited to try this, so I took a deep breath and asked, "Is this your first time tryin' anythin' kinky, sweetheart?"

His cheeks flushed pink and he shrugged a shoulder. "Maybe. I mean, I've been cuffed before…"

"Without a safe word in place?" It was hard to keep the horror out of my voice. Was this our age gap finally showing itself? Or was it just his inexperience with kink? Could it be both?

He shrugged again. "It was just cheap aluminum cuffs from a silly cop costume. I've got shifter strength. I could have broken them if I wanted." He shook his head. "But I get that's not the point. I was dumb and, like, nineteen at the time. All I remember is that I enjoyed giving up a little control."

"Okay, well, for us…you're gonna need a safe word. I need you to understand that the second you say it, I'll cut the ropes and end the scene." I was grateful that he had at least done enough research to have the shears on hand. "If it helps, I usually use the traffic light system. "

"That works for me," Damon smiled sheepishly. "And I'm green lighting this right now."

"And if you want me to stop?"

"Red light, Alpha. I promise."

There was that tingly feeling again. I really liked that.

Reassured, I nodded. "Okay. Good. Usually, I'd tell you not to speak unless asked a direct question, but tonight we're goin' easy, okay? So I want to know what you're feeling, especially if it's too uncomfortable."

"Okay, that's fair." He wriggled. "Can we start now?"

I snorted but got his legs into the position I wanted. To get us both back into the mood, I ran my hands over his skin, from his toes all the way to his gently stubbled jaw and then back down again. He closed his eyes and tried to lift his hips towards me, and I watched as a droplet of precum dribbled down his renewed erection. I could also see his slick shining off the curve of his ass, and I couldn't wait to have his legs restrained so I could dive between them and enjoy that part of him while he writhed.

I doubled the first length of rope over and then took my time wrapping it around his thigh and ankle, bending forward to press kisses to Damon's belly as I worked. I created the first part of the Lark's Head knot, slipping the end of the rope through the loop I'd created when I doubled it over, and then tugged it back down, reversing the tension of the knot. I slipped two fingers between the rope and his skin, wanting to make sure I wasn't cutting off his circulation or, worse, creating an opportunity for irreversible nerve damage.

When I was happy with the degree of constriction, I wrapped the rope around his limb again and again, keeping the lines of rope uniform and maintaining the same tension. Then I slipped the tail end of the rope through the bight from the original knot and tied off with a Surgeon's Knot.

"How does that feel, kitten?" I checked in with him softly, glancing up into his lust-blown eyes.

"Still green light," he breathed back. "I can't move much—" he gave his tied leg an experimental stretch, still able to jostle it side-to-side "—but that feels really fucking exciting."

"Good. It's not too tight? Too loose?"

"Nope. It's just right."

Grinning, I moved to the other leg to repeat the process. "Is this the part where I call you Baby Bear?"

"I was thinking Goldilocks, actually."

I laughed. "Careful, or the nickname will stick, darlin'. Then you'll have to explain how you got it, and it ain't got nothin' to do with your hair." He'd cut his hair to make it more manageable, but it was still shoulder length, smooth and dark. Nothing like the blonde curls belonging to the character from the fairytale.

He smirked. "What about the gold in my eyes, hmm? You like that. At least, you always say you do."

I finished tying the Surgeon's knot on his second leg and rested my ass on my heels, shaking my head. "Except the ‘locks' part of ‘Goldilocks' refers to her hair, so that don't make sense. Anyway, how does that feel?"

Damon did the same experimental movement, trying to pull his ankle away from his thigh. He let out a cute, excited squeal. "Perfect. I can't move them." He bit his lip and cocked his head. "I'm completely at your mercy now, Alpha."

Oh, but how I loved the coy act. His hands and arms were still free, and we both knew that he had the ultimate control of the scene, but I played along happily .

I crawled forward and spread his thighs apart further, diving between them just as I had fantasized I would.

He cried out and squirmed, unable to wrap his legs around my back as instinct likely demanded of him.

"Oh, fuck," he all but sobbed as I flattened my tongue and licked him from his slick-covered rim all the way up over his balls and up his shaft in one swipe. Then I sank my mouth down over his cock and took him to the back of my throat. "Rex! Fuck !"

He'd already been so worked up before we even started, we both knew he wasn't going to last long.

"Rex…A-alpha…please…I can't…I don't want…not yet…"

His blissed-out babbling was music to my ears as I sucked his cock, lessening up on the intensity to hopefully extend his pleasure.

"Need your knot, Alpha. Please. Please ."

He sounded close to tears.

I released him with reluctance before I kissed my way back down to his hole.

"Better make sure you're ready for that, hmm?" I asked him, and he practically yowled as I followed through by spearing him with my tongue.

I loved the taste of his slick. I didn't know if it was because I'm an alpha and I'm designed to want it so badly, or if it was just a me thing, but tasting him was guaranteed to get me harder than I thought was physically possible. My dick ached to be inside him, to mark my territory in the most primal way, to knot him and fill him with more lifegiving seed.

What the hell was that about, anyway? Damon was already heavily pregnant with my kid. It wasn't like I could get him more pregnant.

I couldn't — I'd already asked Eric. And Beck… And Brandt. So sue me: I was paranoid about these urges. Who knew what shifter biology and magic could achieve.

Damon whined and mewled and writhed as I alternated between lapping at his rim and tongue-fucking him. When I started adding fingers to the equation, he was beyond begging. I pulled back with a smug smile, faltering at the sight of tears trickling down his cheeks.

"I need you in me," he said plaintively, and I was done torturing him.

"I've got you, kitten, but we're swapping positions."

A few moments later, I was propped up against Mount Pillow and I was pulling him onto my lap, careful of his still bound legs. I had my hands bracing his back, my innate shifter strength making it a lot easier to help him ride me, even in his semi-reclined position. We made matching sounds of relief as he sank down onto my cock, enveloping me in his slick heat.

I was never going to get enough of that feeling.

"Darlin', you feel so damn good… ungh ," my breathing hitched as he clenched around me. "Yes, baby, just like that."

We took it slow, and I relished every second of sliding in and out of his perfect ass. I wished I could kiss him, or worship his beautiful body with my hands, but it wasn't going to work in our current position.

"I…I need to come," he whined, his face contorted as he hovered on the edge of orgasm.

"Touch yourself," I ordered. "Come for me, kitten."

Taking a shaking hand to his leaking dick, which he probably couldn't see straining beneath the bulge of his belly, he did as told. My balls drew up tight as I watched him. With his head thrown back, he tugged at his cock and bounced on mine, managing maybe five strokes before his ass was clenching around me and his warm cum was splashing my abdomen.

"Fuck, yes, darlin', that's it…" I praised him, trying to hold off coming myself.

"It's not enough," he sounded wrecked. "I need your knot."

"Not like this." How I had the presence of mind to understand that getting locked together while his legs were still bound was not a great idea, I'll never know. I put it down to those protective alpha urges. "Gotta untie you first."

" Hurry ."

I couldn't quite understand the urgency in his tone. Not when he'd just come. But it got me moving. He leaned back, bracing his palms on the mattress, while I quickly worked at undoing the knots holding the ropes in place.

As his impatience climbed, he began to bounce his hips, which was fucking distracting considering I was still inside him.

I freed his left leg with an exultant cry, then moved to his right, throwing both lengths of rope over the edge of the mattress once I was done. I felt a sense of loss as Damon climbed off me to shift onto his knees, but then he was grabbing my shaft by the base and sinking down onto me again with a groan.

Now he could lean forward and, even though we were still mildly impeded by his belly between us, we could kiss. My fingers threaded into the silken strands of his hair, holding him in place as his tongue plundered my mouth with desperation.

He mewled as he bounced in place, his hands scrabbling at the back of my shoulders, but he never stopped kissing me, and there was something special in the way his passion seemed to match mine .

We panted and moaned and grunted as we picked up speed. We smelled like sex and clean sweat and something that was uniquely us .

"You gonna come again?" I murmured against his lips, and he whined long and low, nodding his answer. The next kiss I gave him was chaste and I nuzzled my nose next to his in a move I could only describe as feline. Then I slid my hand beneath his belly, gripping his dick as I urged, "Come for me, baby. Come for me, and you'll get my knot."

"Fuck, Rex!" Damon arched his back and came for the second time that night, the contractions around my cock tearing my orgasm from me. I couldn't have stopped it this time if I had tried.

I rode out the wave of ecstasy, then groaned as my knot began to swell. " Nngh . That's it, darlin', take it all."

Damon undulated his hips, stimulating my knot. He smiled lazily as I came again. "God, I love it when you do that," he admitted. His eyelids were getting droopy, his expression finally sated. In the yellow light from the bare bulb above us, and with a thin sheen of sweat on his skin, he practically glowed. He bit his lip, and in a soft voice added, "Thank you."

Grunting through the waves of resulting pleasure-pain as I moved and tugged on my knot, I slid us down onto the mattress until we were lying together on our sides, his belly and back supported by pillows while I curled around his front, locked inside him.

"I don't know why you're thankin' me," I eventually replied, kissing the top of his head sweetly, tasting the salt of his sweat on my lips. "I should be thankin' you. A few months ago, I had nothin'. Now…" I placed my hand on the swell of his belly and swallowed an unexpected lump of emotion. "Now I've got everything."