Page 22 of Bred By the Barge

With a pleased hum, she threads her arms and head into the shirt and settles it around her hips. When I reach for the pajama pants I chose for her, she pushes them away, grabs the second shirt, and balls the fabric between her legs.

I watch with growing desire as she marks my shirt with her scent and tugs it over my head. She does the same with my jeans, smearing her slick into the material before handing them to me. I hold out my palm and silently demand she give me her pants. She gladly hands them over, but doesn’t wait patiently for me to give them back.

I never thought a union could be so fulfilling. She completes me.

Her eager hands work the pants over my shaft until she deems them properly marked.

We finish dressing. I scoop her into my arms and climb down the ladder. She stares in wonder at our main living space, and I belatedly realize the only time she was down here was when she was in the beginning stages of estrous. She wasn’t interested in furnishings or accommodations then, but she appreciates all my hard work now. The bond glows between us.

I lift the bar off the front door and step out into the main bay. Sounds of people drift through the space, but the path topside remains clear, so I ascend the stairs and check the area before stepping out onto the deck.

The sun warmed metal heats the soles of my feet, but I don’t plan to be out of our den for long, so I ignore the discomfort and stalk toward the bow.

I stop in front of the first container and knock on the door before sliding open the viewing window. The girl inside stands from her seat at the table and steps toward the center of the room to see us better.

Pearl squeals and nearly topples out of my arms. I lift her higher on my chest and tighten my grip on her.

“Gem! You’re alright? You’re eating okay? Sleeping? You look so much better.”

As they reassure each other through the grate, I exchange nods with the man on guard in the radio shack.

“I heard they pulled people from the ocean yesterday,” Gem says.

Pearl goes ramrod straight in my arms.

“Really? Were they from our shipwreck?”

“I don’t know. They won’t tell me more, but I heard the commotion and asked Cadence and she said—”

“Cadence? You have a friend?” Pearl interrupts. Apprehension, distrust, and uncertainty colors her tone.

“I have several. All beta females. They talk to me when they bring me food. I… I like it here, Pearl. I almost don’t want my quarantine to end,” she finishes in a whisper.

I take the risk and speak.

“We have three different female only communal pods, or we can outfit a solo pod for you, but don’t decide yet. Say a quick goodbye, tiny treasure. I need you back in our den before you get too needy.”

Pearl’s cheeks heat with a blush. Gem’s eyes widen.

“I’m pregnant, Gem.”

A long pause.

“And you’re happy?” Gem asks.

“Very,” Pearl whispers through the lump in her throat. Tears drip from her lashes. The joy in our bond outshines the pain of her past.

Gem nods and gives a tight smile.

“Good. Then I’m happy for you.”

My omega opens her mouth to respond, but I growl a terse farewell before closing the window and stalking down the row to a bigger quarantine container.

I knock to announce our arrival before sliding the viewing panel open. Three times wider than the other, this window allows a better view of the entire room.

Five narrow cots line the far wall. An elderly lady with white hair lifts her head, looks at us, then drops back down onto her pillow while a child springs up from the second bed. The girl’s red curls bounce in the sunlight as she runs across the room to hide in the hygiene corner.

My omega gasps as a third woman rises from the cot on the other end.

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