Page 33 of With A Little Luck
Something deep in my gut says that she needs my pheromones, and I do my best to saturate her in them. Her eyes are always so blue, but her pupils are blown into huge, round saucers, making her eyes seem darker than they truly are.
The look of desperation on her face kills me.
I will give her anything she wants.
I just can’t overstep or misread her cues.
We’re still feeling each other out.
I’ve never had any bias against one-night stands or casual hookups, but I want way more than that from Quincy.
I’ve had more than a few daydreams about the future I want us to build, and I’m willing to take my time to make that a reality.Or I was before this heat spike came out of nowhere. Letting her suffer isn’t even in the realm of possibility.
Not to mention, I’m concerned about the baby. Omegas are built to withstand extreme fevers, but I don’t know if that extends to the baby, and that scares the hell out of me.
I’d like to give evolution a little more credit than that, but it’s not worth the risk.
Our lips brush as I’m marking her cheeks, and she nips at my lower lip. A low, dangerous growl rattles out of my chest, and I take over the kiss.
My right palm has been keeping my top half upright, but my forearm falls to the bed so I can cradle the top of Quincy’s head. Every gasp she lets out sends a pulse straight to my knot, and it gets hard to focus.
I’m supposed to be taking care of her, and every cell in my system says drilling her full of my cum will help that fever of hers. It’s feral-alpha logic, and I know that, but my system is convinced.
She tastes like coconut and creamy vanilla. A delicious treat just waiting to be devoured.
“I’m so hot. Get this off me.” She shoves my chest until I lean back enough that she can grab the bottom of the pajama dress she’s wearing.
Pulling back on my knees, I help her out of it and toss it aside.
My jaw falls.
She’s pretty much all belly, and for whatever insane reason, my cock jolts, dribbling precum. The insane urge to breed her all over again washes over me from nowhere, and I really start to question my sanity.
Quincy groans, stretching back to attempt to unhook her bra. I get myself into gear and reach around her, popping the hooks.
The straps fall down her arms, and she frowns. “Even that is too much. It’s like my skin is too sensitive.” The bra goes flying, and she moves to hold herself up on her forearms.
Her molten gaze dances down my chest, landing on my boxer briefs. The sexy little “O” her lips form will be burned into my retinas for a long time.
I follow her line of sight and snort.
My dick does look obscene pushing against the thin material. Even my knot is visible.
Quincy’s trembling hand stretches out, and her fingers run over my shaft on top of my boxer briefs. It jerks, and I growl. I’m so jacked up that even that small touch feels dangerous.
The heat from her fingertips feels amazing as she circles my crown, focusing on the wet spot from all the precum I’ve been leaking.
“Lie back,” I growl, teasing my hands up her thighs. She falls back, like I barked the command, and my brain almost short-circuits. Her tits are heavy teardrops with light, tannish-brown nipples, and they’re really fucking nice.
Which probably makes it even stranger that my gaze keeps going back to her abdomen. I’ve heard people say a pregnant belly looks like a basketball, but not Quincy’s stomach. It’s a massive oval bubble, and her skin is pulled so tight it almost looks painful.
My hands reach her panties, and I groan when I catch a peek at the wet spot on the front.
Hooking my fingers in the band, I quirk an eyebrow. “These off too?”
She nods, making her long dark waves fall around her shoulders.
I work on getting her out of her panties, my gaze constantly circling back to her face. The way her straight, white teeth dig into her lower lip makes me ache to eat her alive. It takes somemaneuvering to get her out of her last piece of clothing, but I succeed and toss it aside.
