Page 88 of Breeding Clinic

He doesn’t stop the buzzing after his test to see if I’m wearing it. It stays at a dull, low buzz. Once I get used to it, it’s easier to ignore. Sort of.

I fidget in my seat and bite my lower lip. “In a white dress, everyone’s gonna see a damp spot,” I warn him.

“You’re wearing slick panties. You’ll be okay, kitten.”

“Really?” There was hardly any fabric to them.

“Trust me.”

I do. I trust him. But that doesn’t mean turnabout isn’t fair play. I put my hand on his thigh and stroke him, drawing circles on his leg. “Thank you for my presents, Daddy,” I say in a husky voice.

Matthew lets out a laugh and reaches for the buttons that control the limo. A privacy screen rolls up, separating us from the driver. Gabriel lounges, undoing the button of his coat and letting it splay open. He grabs the bottle of amber liquor from the bar rack and pours himself a glass.

“This is going to be fun,” Gabriel says with a smile, taking a sip.

I drag my hand higher up Liam’s inner thigh until my pinky grazes his clothed cock. His dick twitches. “You lookreallygood in a suit. You all do.”

They’ve put effort into getting ready. Shaving, slicking their hair back with pomade, and putting on silver cufflinks and tie pins. Did they buy the suits or rent them? I hope they bought them. Otherwise the shop’s gonna be pissed when they get the shirts back with no buttons. I want to rip their clothes off them while I ride them. The pregnancy hormones have been driving me nuts ever since I opened the box. And the toy nestled against my pussy isn’t helping. It’s only stoking that fire into an inferno.

Liam grabs my hand and lifts it to his mouth, kissing my knuckles. He uses the movement to hide his reach for the toy’s remote. The toy hums faster. The butterfly’s wings make my entire pussy vibrate. I forget that I’m teasing him as he teases me back mercilessly.

He turns my wrist over and kisses the inside where theskin’s thinner and more delicate. “Be good, kitten. Or we’ll never make it to the restaurant.”

That doesn’t sound like a bad idea. “I’m not that hungry.” I squirm, grinding on the toy. Trying to drive those buzzing sensations deeper. Fuck, I want to come. And he hasn’t even touched me yet.

Liam taps the remote again. The vibrations switch from a constant buzz to a stuttered pulsing. It’s impossible to use it to come. The vibrations are too irregular. I let out an annoyed whine, but all my alpha does is grin.

“You’re beautiful, kitten,” he says.

“I want to ride your cock.”

He nips the palm of my hand and settles it back on my lap. “No.”

It’s payback for teasing and edging him the other day in the pub. It’s got to be. I groan and settle in my seat while the driver takes us across town. We pull up to the nicest restaurant in town. The one you need to make reservations for several months in advance to get a table unless you want to go on a weekday.

“How’d you get us a reservation here?” I ask, frowning.

“Made it a while ago,” Liam answers.

“You’ve been planning this all this time?”

“Of course,” he says. “I knew you were ours from the minute you walked into my pub.”

My heart seems three sizes too big for my chest as the driver pulls up to their valet parking and gets out to open our doors. Matthew and Gabriel get out first and extend a hand to help me. I hold the fabric of my dress out of the way and let them help me out. Liam is at my back a moment later, urging me forward with a hand resting on the small of my back.

I’m finally ready to be theirs. Forever.

The restaurant is gorgeous. It’s tiny, hence the long reservation list. The lighting is low and ambient. Low music plays over hidden speakers, and large well-tended plants decorate the gleaming, luxurious space. It’s all leather and marble, dark stained wood and polished brass. A well-stocked bar makes up one wall and booths line the other with tables scattered in the middle. People eat, the clink of their cutlery mixing with their conversations. The food smells amazing and my stomach grumbles in eager anticipation.

“O’Donnell pack,” Liam tells themaître d’.“We have a reservation for four at seven-thirty.”

“Your table is ready. Follow me.” Themaître d’takes four leather bound menus and shows us to our table. Leather and wood chairs ring the tablecloth covered table. There’s a small vase with a red rose in the center. She lights the tea light candles, then leaves.

The minute we’re seated and settled, Liam changes the setting on the toy. It’s a different pattern of interrupted buzzing. I bite my lip and fidget in my seat. Attempting to read the menu. My eyes won’t focus. My mind won’t pay attention. I read the same few lines over and over again.

“Welcome to Le Chat Noir,” a server says, greeting us. He’s a beta. “Here’s our wine menu. What can I get you to drink?”

Liam orders for us. “Three glasses of your McCallan twenty-five on the rocks and a raspberry mojito mocktail for the lady.”

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