Page 10 of Breeding Clinic

“Fuck, kitten. That was so good. Come here. Let me return the favor. I want one last taste before they make me go.”

I didn’t suck his cock to get my pussy licked, but I won’t say no. I crawl up his body and settle my knees on either side ofhis head. He nuzzles between my thighs, his nose sliding between my folds.

His mouth is warm and wet. He sucks my lips into his mouth and darts his tongue inside my core. He purrs while he licks, and I bury my hands in his tangled curls as he eats me out.

When his tongue moves to my clit, I’m ready. It’s sore and swollen, but he’s gentle as he sucks me, licking patterns around my clit. Almost reverent. Pressure builds in my pelvis, winding tighter and tighter. Desperate and needy, I ride his face. All concerns about his ability to breathe are gone. He’ll figure it out. And I need to come.

Balanced on the precipice of release, I tense. And then pleasure washes through me. I cry out, riding the waves. Riding his tongue. He laps up my slick and licks me through my aftershocks until I’m clean.

Once my heartbeat and breathing have steadied, I climb off him and collapse into the nest.

He reaches over and drags me against him, our hot naked bodies pressed flush.

“You’re pregnant.” He lets out a shaky breath and smiles. “We made a baby.”

I tense, and he sits up, his brow furrowed with concern.

“You can’t possibly tell that yet. It’s too early,” I protest.

“I can,” he says. “I’m an alpha. I can tell. Isn’t this… This is what you wanted, right?”

Emotion overwhelms me. Of course it is. But also… it isn’t. I was the girl who always dreamed of finding her pack. Getting mated. Having babies. The cliche omega who wanted to be a homemaker. Instead, my pack rejected me. I couldn’t move past the lost pregnancies. Didn’t want to give up. They were tired of the heartache. So they moved on without me. I never planned to bea single mother. But I’d rather have a baby alone than never have one at all.

“It is. I’m just nervous. What if it doesn’t… stick?” I’ve lived through it before. Even when it hurt so bad I thought it might kill me.

His thumb makes circles on my thigh. He pulls me closer and tucks my head under his chin, and then he purrs. It’s comforting. “Nobody can predict the future. But if it helps, they told me I have grade A swimmers.”

My lips turn up in a smile while my head rises and falls with his breathing. His heart beats a steady rhythm under my cheek. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” He rubs my arm, my back. “They basically said my sperm are really smart. They know which way to swim. And if it doesn’t work out, I wouldn’t mind trying again. You know, I wasn’t expecting this. To like you, I mean. But I do. Do you think…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence.

“It’s good to hear that I didn’t pick stupid sperm,” I say, trying to lighten the mood again.

We had fun, and I like him too. More than I should, considering I’m paying him for his sperm. He’s a donor, not a hookup. He’s not my alpha.

Am I really pregnant?I smile and sit up. My hand goes to my lower belly, though there’s nothing to feel yet. “Will they tell you if it sticks or… doesn’t?”

Liam frowns, his eyebrows pinching together. “Of course. I?—”

The door lock buzzes, and I have enough time to grab a blanket and hug it to my chest as a nurse walks in. “Hi. Sorry to barge in, but if your heat’s over, we need to turn this room over. We had another patient go into their heat cycle early.”

“Oh, of course,” I answer. The soft moment fades and grimreality sets in. Liam isn’t my lover, and this isn’t my home. It’s a fertility clinic, and he’s my sperm donor. An enthusiastic one, but still only a donor. I got what I paid for, and now it’s time to leave.

“I need to find my clothes.” I get out of bed and run a hand through my snarled hair, looking around. The room is a mess. There are blankets and pillows scattered everywhere.

Liam extracts his gray sweatpants from the nest. I don’t remember pulling them into it or building one. My memory of the last four days is spotty. I get dressed, grateful the nurse busies herself with putting on a pair of gloves and stripping the bed. I shove my blankets from home and vibrator into my bag.

He’s already gone by the time I’m ready to go. A pang of disappointment hits me, but then I chastise myself for it. Of course he left. He’s earned the break after what I put him through. I leave, thanking the nurses and staff as I go, my face tomato red. How many of them watched me get railed for four days straight? Listened to me come? Watched my heartbeat spike with every orgasm?

They’re professional and friendly, but busy as I leave. This is another day at work for them.

I dig my car keys out of my purse and unlock my car, blasting the AC and rolling down the windows. My phone is dead. I plug it into the charger and start driving. When I’m halfway home, a bunch of text messages and missed calls come in. Most are from Jen, a few are from Chelsea with pictures of Waffles in amusing places or wearing funny outfits, and one is from my editor saying she finished the manuscript and sent the invoice.

The first thing I do is text Chelsea that I’m headed home and won’t need her to come by after her classes today. The second to call Jen. My best friend answers on the second ring.

“Bitch, I am dying for details,” she says.

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