Page 341 of Claimed By the Rival Alpha

“Let me take my time with you,” I murmured against her throat. “I want to feel every tremble and hear each sigh.”

“Night,” she breathed. I could feel her heart quickening under my lips.

“I want to commit your ecstasy to memory.”

“Y-yes. I’ll try and hold still.”

I rewarded her by continuing my slow petting. I nudged her closer and closer to orgasm, alternating the speed and firmness of my fingers on her clit. Asking her to stay still through all of it was unfair. My Bryn was built to be wanton and loud—one of the many things I loved so much about her.

But I enjoyed watching her face flush apple-red. I loved that she had to grip me just to keep from writhing. And I relished the mewling noises she tried to suppress by keeping her lips clamped shut. I ran my teeth across her throat, and her tremble turned into a shudder, her nails dimpling my skin. I pressed just a bit more firmly, and then her body locked tight, her mouth opening to a wide “O.”

I’d brought her to the peak of her pleasure, and now it was time to watch her fall and dissolve into my arms. My girl did not disappoint. The moment that pleasure crested over her, she let out a desperate, relieved sob. It was so loud, it would have been heard in any room of the alpha cabin. Wetness rushed from her, filling my hand.

“Amazing,” I whispered. “Do you want to take this to the tub?”

She nodded shakily.

Bryn had turned into a puddle on the bed, so I had no problem getting the tub ready and lighting her favorite candles. When everything was ready, I picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. I stepped into the tub and gently sank into it with her in my arms.

The baby added a few pounds to Bryn, but she had never, ever been heavy to me. That said, the difference between having her in the water on my lap versus sitting on the bed on my lap was stark. It was so easy to lift her and lower her onto my waiting cock.

“N-Night…” She moaned as she turned her head to look at me over her shoulder, gripping the sides of the tub, taking what I gave her like a good girl.

“That’s it, Bryn,” I breathed into her back. “Just relax into me.”

She leaned back, and her eyes slipped shut. The new position gave me perfect access to her breasts, jiggling with each movement. The water splashed gently around us, slight ripples traveling along the surface of the water. The sound of the disturbed water added melody to the rhythm of our grunts and moans.

“I’m close,” she gasped.

“I know, love,” I murmured into her shoulder. “I am, too…”

“Ah—ah!” She gripped the sides of the tub, her toes curling upward. At the same time, I bent my knees and thrust upward. I bit into the back of her shoulder, thrusting into her until I was spent.

Afterward, we sat together in the still-warm water, relaxing into the quiet.

122

BRYN

The baby’s kicking woke me the next morning. Seconds later, I understood why they were so active. The smell of pancakes, something I’d been craving a lot since I entered the third trimester of my pregnancy, permeated the air of the room.

I looked next to me, but Night wasn’t there. Confusion gave way to excitement. Had he made me breakfast? Things had been so busy that he hadn’t been able to do that for me these past few days.

I threw off the covers, freshened up, then went downstairs. As I got closer to the kitchen, I heard laughter, and I realized that laughter didn’t belong to Night. It was Mom and Violet, chatting and giggling.

I entered the kitchen and found the two of them standing by the stove. Violet was making the pancakes. She flipped one, and I watched the sweet, golden-brown treat soar in mid-air before landing in the pan again. My stomach rumbled, and the baby gave another ferocious kick.

“Bryn, honey,” Mom said, turning a beaming smile toward me. “Have breakfast with us.”

“With the grandmas!” Violet added, shifting the pancake onto a plate where a couple dozen of them were stacked.

“The grandmas?” I repeated with a smile. “It almost sounds like you two could be a band.”

Violet and Mom exchanged a mischievous glance. “But we could, couldn’t we?” Violet asked. “I’ll do the vocals, and you the flute, Glenda?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Mom nodded.

I laughed as I sat down at the table, which was already covered in an assortment of breakfast foods.