Under Siege: A Contemporary Mpreg Romance Bundle (Omega's Under Siege)

by Aiden Bates

  “Are you s-sure?” I asked. Usually, Teddy wanted more prep than this.

  “Roman, I swear to god, if you don’t get that huge cock in me, I’m going to lose my mind.”

  I waited for just a second before pulling back slightly and thrusting in all at once. Teddy made a choking noise, but looking down, I could see his eyes were rolling back in his head. His cock was weeping precum like a fountain, so I started thrusting hard and fast at his request.

  I could feel Teddy digging his nails into my shoulder blades, saw him catching his bottom lip between his teeth to keep him from shouting down the building. I mouthed at his jaw, feeling the light rasp of his stubble against my lips, and then I trailed my teeth over the tendons of his neck, biting lightly before licking the sheen of sweat from the hollows of his collarbones.

  “Roman. More. I need more,” he begged.

  I slowed and pulled out of him carefully, which he let me know was not exactly his idea of more by groaning in frustration.

  “Turn over,” I told him.

  Once I had him sprawled in front of me face down, his chest to the bed and his ass in the air, I pressed back into him, placing my hands at his hips in order to move him back and forth. Mesmerized, I watched him take me over and over again.

  “God, I could do this for hours. I could do this forever,” I said.

  Teddy’s only response was to moan and push his hips back faster and faster. I tilted my own hips slightly, angling my cock until I heard Teddy give a yelp that let me know I was pounding directly into his prostate. I could feel him beginning to lock down on me.

  “That’s it, sweetheart,” I crooned. “Come for me, Teddy. Just for me. Show me.”

  That was all it took before he was crying out his release, his hole fluttering around me over and over again in rhythmic pulses. I paused, resting my forehead between his shoulder blades while letting him come down from his high.

  I moved to pull out, but Teddy grabbed my hip.

  “Come in me. I want you to. Come on.”

  I didn’t need telling twice. In a flash, I had Teddy up on his knees, his back pressed into my front, his head lolling on my shoulder as I drove into him half a dozen more times, groaning as the incredible tell-tale sign of an impending orgasm shot through my veins before I finally spilled inside him.

  We fell back to the bed panting, and I spooned around him, nosing at his nape.

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, that was good.”

  “Mmm, it was,” Teddy agreed. After a moment, he let loose a big sigh. “Still, unfortunately, sex doesn’t fix everything.”

  I nosed at the back of his ear. “Even I know that, but that’s just phase one of my strategy.”

  “Is that so?” Teddy asked.

  “Uh-huh. Now we move into phase two.”

  “Alright. So what does phase two entail?”

  “Well, I’d say that depends on you. What kind of breakfast are you feeling?” I asked. “We could do eggs and sausage or bacon and pancakes or French toast or hash browns or that peanut butter fluff waffle thing you like—”

  “Yes,” Teddy answered.

  “Wait, which one?” I asked in confusion.

  “All of the above. For some reason my stomach isn’t rebelling like it’s been doing all week. So, I am feeling all the breakfasts this morning. Also…” His brow furrowed as he contemplated. “The baby wants pickles and…jalapenos.”

  “Well, baby is in charge, then. Who am I to argue?”

  I hopped out of bed and grabbed the first clothes I could find to pull on. Teddy rolled over on his back and leaned up against the pillows watching me. I gave him a kiss on the temple before grabbing my wallet. “I’ll be right back. I just need to go get a few things from the store. Try not to starve before I get back,” I said, teasing.

  It didn’t take long to get to the local grocery store, and once inside I quickly grabbed everything I needed. Last stop, aisle seven for the pickles. I was looking over the options when I heard a familiar voice call my name. Oh, shit.

  I turned around and sure enough, Bennet was there making his way down. Garret’s little brother had known us all for years. It could have been worse. It could have been Logan, but still, Bennet was Teddy’s best friend. Great.

  “Bennet, hey, how are you?”

  “I’m good. You’re up early this morning,” Bennet said, looking down and spotting my PJs. “Wouldn’t have taken you for the shopping-in-your-pajamas type, personally.”

  “Well, it is the weekend, after all. Might as well live a little. Besides, they’re comfortable.”

  “I’m sure. Good grief, are you feeding the whole Army?” Bennet looked into my cart. To his defense, it was a shitpile of food. Teddy said he was hungry, and the alpha in me couldn’t stand the notion of not providing for him.

  I laughed. “Nah. Just me.”

  “Huh. Well, you have some interesting choices,” he said, motioning to the canned jalapenos and pickles in my hand.

  “Yeah. Uh. I like pickles and I’m all out.”

  “Interesting. Well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” Bennet said before moving off.

  I was back to reading labels when he spoke again.

  “And, Roman?”

  “Yeah?”

  Bennet kept moving farther down the aisle, his back to me.

  “He likes the dill pickles better than those.”

  “Than— I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you don’t. See you around, Roman.”

  I watched him leave, and then sped through the grocery line as quickly as I could and high-tailed it back to the apartment before I could run into anyone else with any opinions about my groceries.

  When I got back to the apartment, Teddy was at the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. He hadn’t gotten completely dressed, just pulled on one of my t-shirts and some boxers. His hair was still a haystack on top of his head and I could see the faint purpling of a love bite on his jaw below his ear. He looked perfect.

  “What took you so long?” Teddy looked up from his phone and saw me standing there, bags in my hands gaping at him. “What? What’s wrong?” he asked, voice rising slightly.

  I shook my head. “No, ah, nothing’s wrong. Sorry, there was a line at the grocery store. All the old biddies out doing early morning shopping. Nah, it’s just… I reckon I was just admiring the view.”

  Teddy smirked and got up from his seat to help me unpack the groceries. “Oh, perfect! These are exactly the pickles I wanted. Thanks, babe! How’d you know?” Teddy forgot about helping and instead cracked the jar open and started eating them right away. Well, thanks for that anyway, Bennet.

  “Lucky guess, I suppose.”

  Teddy reached for the carton of eggs and a bowl, and I was reminded of him helping me cook a time or two when we were in school, and the resulting smoke and burnt food.

  “Alright, now which one of these things is the whisk?”

  “You know what, sweetheart. Even though you’re really, really good at this, why don’t you let me. You’re making a baby, after all. It’s the least I can do.”

  Teddy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying to me.”

  “Who, me? Never!” I said guiding him back to the bar stools. “Now, why don’t you take your pickles and let me take care of you.”

  He stayed for a few minutes watching me get things started. “Mmm, on second thought I’m going to go shower. Someone got me all sticky this morning,” he added.

  “You weren’t really complaining at the time, if I remember correctly.”

  “Probably don’t!” Teddy called from down the hallway.

  I busied myself with making everything Teddy had said he had wanted in bed this morning, sausages and bacon were piled up on a plate, and then I started focusing on cranking out stacks of fluffy pancakes, waffles, toast, and eggs. In honesty, I may have gotten carried away, but it was easier to focus on that than it was to focus on the thoughts swirling around my head. My mind
kept going back to running into Bennet today. There was no way we were going to be able to keep up the secret forever. I wasn’t the sharpest tack in the box by any stretch of the imagination, but even I knew that. Babies had a way of making themselves known. Eventually, it wasn’t just going to be Bennet or my brother. Everyone was going to know, and probably faster than we wanted. And everyone included Logan. I couldn’t imagine what his reaction was going to be when he found out. Part of me hoped that knowing Teddy was carrying his first grandchild would soften his reaction, but then I thought of the detached way in which he addressed Jason’s death, and I doubted it.

  I’d just gotten done with the last of the hash browns when Teddy reemerged from the shower, clean and still wearing my shirt, toweling at his hair.

  “Wow, you really went all out,” he said, blushing slightly at the spread I’d put together just for him.

  I wanted to freeze this moment and keep it forever, to come back to it whenever I wanted to, like a picture.

  The world was waiting for us outside, and the complications that came with it. The shit was going to hit the fan when Logan found out about me sleeping with Teddy, but it wasn’t happening today, and I wasn’t going to ruin this moment with worries of tomorrow. Like any soldier, I’d learned to enjoy the peace I could find. As I watched Teddy cut into the pancakes and groan appreciatively around his fork, I decided that today was one of those moments, and I was going to enjoy it while I had it.

  20

  Teddy

  “You still want more of that nasty peanut butter-marshmallow fluff concrete you like to wash your waffles in?” Roman asked from the kitchen as he fixed me a plate.

  “Yes, please.” I pulled my pistol and shot a member of the Undead Horde right between the eyes on the screen. “Extra nasty concrete on mine. And pickles. Bring me pickles or I won’t save your ass when you get snuck up on again.”

  Even if Roman was the far better shot in real life, I still had him handily beaten when it came to video games, and anyway, horror games scared him. He’d spent all morning jumping out of his skin every time one of the Flesh-Walkers crept up behind him, much to my amusement.

  “That ain’t funny! My therapist says that’s probably some kind of residual trauma!” Roman said as he brought over my snack. He sat back down, and then squealed when the Queen of Decay produced snakes from her mouth. On screen, our life forces were draining away as the snakes bit us unchecked because Roman was too mad to defend himself and I couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough to shoot at them, I was laughing so hard.

  YOU HAVE JOINED THE HORDE, the game informed us.

  “What a shitshow,” Roman declared disconsolately, dumping his controller onto the coffee table. “And, shut the hell up, would ya? What am I supposed to do if she’s gonna throw up snakes like that?”

  He ended his sentence by taking hold of a throw pillow and thumping me with it.

  “Quit that. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant and you’re beating me. I could take it up with your CO and have you discharged, I’ll have you know.”

  “Oh, yeah? If you told my CO, then you’d really get your ass kicked, so I don’t really think that’s the best plan for you, Teddy,” Roman said, whacking me softly with the pillow once again.

  “Stop it. Give me that!” I cried as I twisted my body to wrestle the pillow out of his hands. He held onto it tightly, so pretty soon he was laid out flat on his back and I was crouched on top of him, trying to pull the pillow away from him with all my might but utterly failing and just exhausting myself in the process.

  “Fear’s an aphrodisiac, you know,” Roman commented as he watched me break into a light sweat over the effort. “Makes you smell stronger.”

  “Gross, is that the line you used in Malmur?” I asked mockingly.

  “Nah, baby, that’s the line I use in Fort Greene,” Roman said, grinning askance and using his knees to bring my chest closer to his. “Is it working?”

  “The line or the smell?” I asked, before I took the opportunity to crouch down further and to suggestively breathe him in. If I was honest, one of my favorite things about Roman was his smell. He often smelled of sweat or soap or his aftershave, but underneath it all, the scent that really registered as ‘Roman’ was earthy and clean, sort of like moss with an undertone of vanilla. The kind of scent that would make someone wrinkle their nose at you if you tried to describe it, but to me was as familiar and distinct as Roman’s smile or his footsteps.

  “The fear,” Roman said in clarification as he grabbed me and twisted so I was underneath him. “Didn’t your daddy ever teach you not to play-wrestle with strange alphas alone in your apartment?”

  I exaggeratedly tilted my head back, pretending I was giving the question serious consideration while searching through my memory logs for such a recommendation.

  “No,” I answered in all honesty.

  Roman scoffed as he reached for the buttons of my jeans and started making short work of the clasp and the zipper below it. “You’re killing my vibe, O’Rourke. I was trying to give you a whole ‘mad, bad alpha routine’ here.”

  “Yeah, I did your Spanish homework for like a whole semester in high school and watched you panic before every assignment like you weren’t sure whether I was going to help you or not, so the whole ‘dangerous alpha’ thing is a hard sell, Ro,” I said, laughingly, as I helped him slide my jeans down around my hips.

  “Oh, yeah,” Roman said in recognition of all the homework help I was reminding him of. “That did happen, didn’t it?”

  “Yep. Mrs. Martin and her conversational partner assignments, Mr. O’Keefe and his dissections, Ms. Halifax and that song she made you write about the kings of England, all that work and no thanks at all, Carpenter. Can you imagine?” I put the back of my hand to my forehead in a dramatic gesture as I shimmied out of my pants.

  “No thanks at all? You mean, making sure you didn’t get beamed with a ball in gym wasn’t enough?”

  I shook my head at him very seriously.

  “Well, this is different than I pictured today going. I was gonna bring home supplies, I was gonna say a line, I was gonna growl, and you were gonna swoon.”

  Maybe to highlight how alpha he could be, Roman raised his arms and peeled his t-shirt off by the scruff of the collar. A weird way to take off a shirt, but one that used his biceps extensively and emphasized them to gorgeous effect. He must have caught enough attention with the move he knew it worked wonders.

  For a moment, I just dreamily admired him. At least until I caught myself and snapped back to reality and laughed.

  “Well, you did bring the sustenance back to the cave and you did prepare it for me in my weakened condition. I was definitely going to swoon and sigh but then, you know, the Queen of Decay happened and… I don’t know, man, you lost me. It just wasn’t very— Oh…”

  Roman apparently had enough talk as he’d curled his hand around my cock and started working it through my boxers. Roman could be gentle, but Roman was decisive, and when Roman decided it was time, well, it felt like my body dropped everything and responded. It was time.

  Blood quickly started pooling at my groin as my cock hardened to his groping. I tensed my back against the couch and strained my hips forward, trying to push into Roman’s touch as much as possible even as I lay caged under his weight.

  “Easy,” Roman said with a soft chuckle. He gently placed one hand on my hip to steady me while he moved the other into a faster rhythm.

  I felt the instinctual urge to spread my legs for him, but it was impossible in this position. All I managed to do was buck my hips up rebelliously. I didn’t manage to throw him off, but I managed to unsettle him enough that he threw his hand out for balance.

  “Alright, that’s enough. Come here, you,” Roman grumbled. He shifted us around on the couch so now he had me sitting and pressed firmly into my seat. Amidst all his maneuvering, I managed to slip my boxers off so the change in position left me naked from the waist down, my legs spread, th
e balls of my feet balanced shoulder width apart on the coffee table, and best of all Roman kneeling between my legs.

  “Happy?”

  “Not as happy as I could be,” I answered, sweetly.

  Roman stuck his hands underneath me and leaned in toward me, using his tongue to draw a long stripe from the base of my cock to the very tip, where I was already leaking heavily in anticipation. He circled the tip of my cock with his tongue until I groaned in protest. This was nice and all, but this was definitely not nearly enough.

  Roman locked eyes with me and playfully groped my thigh muscles as he tongued ever-so-delicately at my frenulum. My heart felt like it was going to leap into my throat each time he did it, a particularly exciting discovery we had made in high school, much to our mutual enjoyment. Unlike the pleasant steadiness of everything else he was doing, it was a sharper sensation, not unlike the dip you feel in your stomach during a rollercoaster.

  “Roman,” I whined, as I held on to the couch for dear life. “Roman. Roman, please, I’m going to pass out, please just—”

  I wasn’t even sure what I was begging for but whatever it was, Roman delivered. He immediately impaled his throat onto my cock and I twined my hands into his hair, pulling him deeper onto me. Roman didn’t even flinch. He just went up further on his knees to accommodate my movements. He picked up speed in time with my moans, sometimes pulling his mouth almost completely off of me to tongue at the head of my cock, and then he’d immediately plunge back down again, taking me all the way to the hilt. As he bobbed, he lay his tongue flat, creating just enough suction, just enough pressure, just enough of a variety of sensation for just the right combination of nerve endings to fire until I was falling apart.

  “Please! Please, god. Please just get me there!” I cried out in an almost-wail I was sure the neighbors could likely hear.

  “Tell me what you want,” Roman said, stopping abruptly and only using his tongue to delicately circle around and over my slit as it leaked profusely. “Let me hear you say it.”