Page 26 of The Coveted Beta

“No,” he agrees. “You are sharing her. If anything, that might meet with greater disapproval.”

“I don’t care what anybody thinks,” Clara says, pressing a kiss to her husband’s cheek before she peeks back at me.

“Do not give me that look, woman,” I say.

“What look?”

I’m not falling for the fake innocence she seeks to project. Not anymore. “The look that says you want to be fucked.”

Alex groans as though in great pain. “My cock is fucking raw. I’ve done nothing but fuck her for the last day and night since you arrived. I’ve just taken her sweet ass.” He huffs out a breath and gestures toward his cock. “Now I’m hardening again.”

“Best get used to it,” I say, skimming my hand over her hips and down her thigh until I reach the juncture of her knee. I draw her leg up and out, repositioning myself so that my cock nestles against her slick cunt. “Guide me into your wife.”

There is a brief moment of hesitation before his eyes lower. His groan is one of defeat as he grasps my cock and guides me where I need to go. “Gods, that looks obscene and hot all at once.” His fingers linger, rubbing gentle circles against her clit as I slowly push into her.

She arches up and groans—I could listen to that breathy note of pleasure forever and never tire. Reaching back, she cups the back of my head.

I kiss her throat, pulling her leg a little higher as I begin to thrust.

“If I’m not very much mistaken, I think your sweet wife is becoming fertile,” I say.

Her pussy clenches over me in the most arresting way.

“Fuck! Do you think…?” —he swallows— “We’ve tried for a year.”

“I would very much like to see Clara with child,” I say, picking up my strokes, hearing those delicious wet noises as I shuttle in and out. “How would you feel if it was mine?”

“Happy,” he says, without even the briefest hesitation. “So fucking happy.”

Epilogue

Six months later…

Clara

“Are those fresh strawberries?” Frederick asks as he enters the dining room where Alex and I are eating breakfast.

Not that I’m eating a lot of breakfast. The truth is I’m playing with my food, moving the fruit around my plate while thinking about my husband and what he did with his wicked tongue this morning before we even roused ourselves from bed.

“They are,” Alex replies. “Why, did you want some?”

“No.” Frederick shakes his head and draws out the chair next to me. He sits, plucking me from my seat as though I’m nothing but a little doll and not the size of a small, plump cow. He sits me on the table before him, sliding his chair forward and leaving me no choice but to open my legs around him.

A squeak escapes my lips as he pushes up the hem of the scandalously short gown that he insists I wear when we are not expecting visitors to our house.

We don’t have visitors often, which means I am mostly dressed this way.

Frederick wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at me. “I was going to assist your wife in eating her food. She has been very picky of late.” His eyes land on my round belly.

I’m in the latter stage of my second trimester, and they are both a little obsessed with my expanding waistline. One did not realize a plump belly would be a source of both pride and erotic interest.

He cups the mound and leans it to kiss it. “Gods, you have a beautiful wife,” he says agreeably to Alex.

I glance over my shoulder at my husband, who grins. “And you have a stunning mate.”

They love to do this, to both praise me as though I belong to the other one. It is a little wicked game they play like I am a forbidden fruit, one they both secretly covet.

Frederick’s hands move to my breasts, and he squeezes them together. “Are your wife’s tits getting bigger, do you think?”

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