Marrying His Omega

by Lorelei M. Hart

  “So? Finding anything?” The man who came to my side was a far jump from the version who’d answered the door. He’d combed his thick, gleaming silver hair and shaved his face. I had nothing against a beard on a man, but in his case, removing the silver shadow took years off him. Sure, he had to be late fifties, but he had only a few lines to show he’d lived both happy and sad moments, and in a blue cashmere sweater that matched his cerulean eyes and tan slacks that looked to have been tailored for him, he was hot. And tall. And lean.

  And the Rolex on his wrist said he was wealthy. Sure didn’t seem like this little dusty store could provide the income his person implied.

  “Nothing here is right. Tak is a very special person. I’m not seeing anything that sings to me.”

  “Tak? The antique store owner, Tak?” For the first time, a smile spread over the handsome jeweler’s face. “Why didn’t you say you were Tak’s alpha?” He bustled over to a small glass-topped table and waved me to his side. “I have just the thing.”

  I peered past him, not sure he was correct. “Really? It’s unique, but kind of Baroque, don’t you think?”

  He chuckled. “Art nouveau. And I know he loves it because I outbid him for it in an auction two years ago. He visits it from time to time. Yes, this is the set for you and your omega. Trust me.”

  So I did. I trusted the jeweler who, as it turned out, was named Jack Hefley and who did most of his business online. His customers had no idea where he was actually located, and he’d moved to Mapleville after meeting Tak at the auction he’d mentioned. Something—he did not say what, but I had a feeling Tak could tell me—had made him want to withdraw from his former life. He’d spent the first year and some shut-in, avoiding people, but thanks to his new friend, he’d begun to come out of his shell a little.

  He’d be at the party.

  The party!

  After writing a check for my entire rainy-day fund and presenting the credit card I’d vowed to use only for emergencies, I left the jewelers and headed for home. The velvet box in my pocket held three rings. I’d wear a silicone one for work, the kind that would break away if it got caught on something. So the fact the one I’d purchased for myself was far more...interesting than I’d have ordinarily chosen to wear would only matter on special occasions. All three were yellow gold carves with a sort of paisley pattern. The two for Tak would look like one when he wore the second after our wedding.

  If he consented to marry me. The thought he might not made my mouth dry and my palms sweat. Quite a combo.

  Several hours later, we were well in the thick of things at Tak’s birthday party. It seemed everyone we’d gone to school with who’d remained in the area and several who had moved away were in attendance. Will had made most of the arrangements up to and including a guy who drove up with a giant smoker in tow who’d made enough ribs to feed everyone in Mapleville. I didn’t know who most of them were, and I was far too nervous to eat or chatter anyway. A number of people exchanged pleasantries with me, but I had the feeling they didn’t know who I was. Over a decade changed people—I didn’t know who some of them were, either.

  But it seemed a pleasant enough group. I just wished they’d go home so I could propose. I’d planned to do it before the party, but I’d arrived home to find Will and several other guys setting things up, and it was just too chaotic. I’d helped out for a while then went and took a shower and dressed, rehearsing what I’d say in my head the whole time.

  And I had finally come up with words I thought had just the right amount of romance. Not sickly sweet, not uncaring… All I needed was some privacy to make it happen.

  The beer beside me had lost its chill, so I pushed off the bench I sat on near the back of the garden and started for the row of chill chests along the driveway. It was silly to be so anxious to pop the question. Not only were we just over twenty-four hours into the newest phase of our relationship, I hadn’t seen any of the other guys making a move on my omega. And I was watching. Tak moved from group to group, smiling and laughing, accepting hugs and good wishes. Had anyone noticed he was sipping a lemonade instead of one of the many hard drinks on offer?

  With a sigh, I bent forward to fish a fresh cold bottle from the cooler, and the box in my pocket plopped out onto the ice. I reached for it —

  “Chris?” Tak had finally found his way to me. “Chris, what is that?”

  Oh heck. As if I’d had it planned this way, I scooped it up, spun on a heel, and dropped to one knee facing my omega, the slightly damp box open in front of me. And my throat closed up. All that emerged was a humiliating squawk. A squeaky squawk.

  But it didn’t matter. Tak knelt beside me, showering me with kisses and grabbing the box from my hand. “How did you ever —? It’s the rings I tried to buy at the auction, but I planned to sell them. They were so expensive even then.”

  My voice returned. “I bought them from—”

  A hand clamped on my shoulder. “He bought them from me. I thought you might like them.”

  Jack looked even taller from down on my knees.

  Tak flashed him a smile so bright, I was jealous for a moment. But he shoved the box back in my hands and held out his left one. “I can’t imagine how you got Jack to open the door and let you in, but there’s no other rings I would choose in the entire world.” I slid the narrower engagement band on his finger, and he threw his arms around my neck. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

  “I didn’t ask yet.”

  He hesitated then grinned again. “Doesn’t matter who does the asking. How soon can we get married? I want to fit in a nice suit.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tak

  Seven months later...

  “I can’t find the green shirt,” I said, rummaging through unfolded laundry.

  “It’s hanging up. I’m still working on that pile.” Chris’s voice soothed me instantly, which added to the relief of not having to look for the damned shirt anymore.

  One of three shirts that actually fit me.

  It wasn’t even my shirt. It was Chris’s. Most of his shirts had become mine now. He’d had to buy more just to take with him on trips then we would switch. I would take the ones he’d been wearing most recently, and he’d take the others.

  “I hate laundry,” I said, almost tipping the basket over from the bed.

  “I know. That’s why I do it for you.” He continued folding and moved another basket onto the bed, this one holding the baby blankets we’d bought the day before. He’d insisted on washing them right away.

  One thing I could say for my alpha, he was prepared. As soon as my belly really began to show, he started downloading ‘Getting Ready for Baby’ shopping lists from Pinterest, and then buying up everything.

  We had enough stuff for triplets.

  “When’s the last time I told you that you’re the best alpha ever?” I sidled up to him, and he put down the pants he was folding to take me in his arms.

  “The last time I did laundry.” We both chuckled, and he tucked my head under his chin while his hand moved to stroke my already-huge belly.

  “Not much longer, Chris. Two will be three.”

  He nodded, his chin bumping the top of my head. “I know. I’ve already talked to my customers and I’m taking off starting next month. We’ve saved up plenty.”

  The other thing about my alpha, and yeah, there was a long list, was that he was incredible at saving money and making sure we stuck to a budget. We’d already started a college fund for our baby and had life insurance in place. And since Chris made decent money, enough for us to live on, we tucked away all of my earnings into a savings account.

  I’d watched him stay up late sometimes, on his laptop, going over accounts and bills, always checking and making sure his family was secure. Chris was like my own watchtower, always steady and strong, ready for anything.

  “Our cradle should be ready this week. Vivian was so nice to offer to do that for us.”

  “Where is she having it ref
inished?”

  I shrugged. “Some man in Mapleville. It’s Vivian. Who knows. The woman has her own network of people. She’s like the Stevie Nicks of Mapleville. That’s what she calls herself. But enough about her and more about this.”

  While I spoke, I ran my hands down to cup his tight ass. Even though he was the alpha, Chris had been more than willing to swap positions with me before my belly got to be the size of a watermelon. I loved that we were equals in the relationship.

  “Gods, omega, you are insatiable.” He groaned and complained but never turned me down. Over the last couple of months, he’d been working overtime to cushion our savings.

  “I know. But you just got back yesterday. You’d been gone for three weeks this time.”

  He sighed. “Last time I’ll be gone that long for a while. My clients have promised to keep me pretty local until you have the baby. Besides, you took care of yourself pretty well as I recall.”

  So yeah, the bad thing about Chris’s job was the traveling, of course. But the cool thing was the late-night private messages and video chats.

  Really private messages.

  One night, Chris called me over video when I was just getting out of the shower. I’d answered with only a towel on. He suggested I lie back on the bed with the computer strategically placed and touch myself while he watched. I complied with my alpha, of course. I took off my towel and lay across the bed and stroked my hard dick, watching him stroke his on the other end. I’d never come so fast in my life.

  Since then, our video chats had become less sexy and more, hey, alpha, look how huge my belly is and yeah, I ate a whole pizza today and yes, still all the heartburn.

  “I love video chatting with you.”

  “But I love you touching me more.” He reached behind himself and took my hands to shift them toward his groin. “Do you want my cock in your sweet mouth, Tak? Because I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”

  “I can’t resist you, alpha. I don’t think I ever will be able to.”

  I sat down on the bed. We were limited in our positions because of my belly, but taking my alpha into my mouth I could do.

  “Take your pants off, alpha,” I breathed and watched as his eyes never left mine. His shirt came off first, giving me a grand view of his pecs and pinked nipples already hard. I heard the popping of his button and the slow grind of his zipper coming down. I took my eyes off his and watched as his dick swelled right in front of me.

  “So bossy today and actually lately, now that I think about it.”

  He moved closer and stroked himself while I licked my lips, getting myself ready for the full girth of him.

  “Come closer, Chris,” I demanded, but my alpha wasn’t ready for me to just yet. He bent down and took my mouth with his. He kissed me in waves of strength and rocked his hips against mine in a raw rhythm. One by one, he took my sensitive nipples into his mouth and then gently bit down on the left one while he stroked my dick, still trapped in my pants. While his mouth teased my nipples even more, I reached between his legs to finger his hole and then play with his sac, tugging the weight of his balls, making him call my name.

  “Now, omega mine.” He stood back up to full height and pushed his hips forward. I shucked my pants and boxers before starting, knowing that my alpha wouldn’t let this go at just a blow job. No, he got the job done every single time.

  I took the length of him all at once as his hands dove into my hair and guided me back and forth, taking him in long slow movements as my hands moved behind him to cup his ass cheeks. His glutes tightened with each pump as he pushed down my throat so slow I almost came along with him.

  My alpha liked me to take my time.

  “I want to be inside you.” He huffed, and with a jerk, took his cock out of my mouth and stuck his hands out to help me up. “Lean over the dresser, mate. I want to watch us—together.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chris

  We never slowed down. I’d heard that omegas’ libidos rose during pregnancy, but I suspected we were setting records. Not that I’d complain because endless ecstasy had definite charms, especially with an omega as hot as mine. Eight months in, I’d begun to worry that our acrobatics weren’t good for the baby, but he assured me he felt terrific, and now that I’d gone on paternity leave, we only got out of bed to fix meals and shower.

  And he was eating for at least two if I had to gauge, based on the sheer calorie count. Once he’d gotten past the first few months, he’d regained his appetite and developed a passion for anything with carbs. Pizza, bread, bagels...but the doctor assured us he was in fine health, the baby growing well, and so I continued to be his supplier.

  But I still worried. An alpha’s job.

  And we weren’t married yet, despite our plans, due mostly to my long road trips and the fact he didn’t want a belly in the wedding pictures. He also decided the baby should be in those pictures. I didn’t care, really. He wore my ring, slept in the same bed with me, and showed his love in a hundred ways every day.

  “Chris?” He poked his head out of the bedroom, wearing a big grin and nothing else. Once he figured out how sexy I found him pregnant, he lost any shyness about his belly size. “Coming to bed?”

  “You’re going to leave me a dried-out husk,” I said, grabbing the bag of barbecue chips from the counter.

  “You’re right. You’d better bring some water, too.” I held up the bottle in my other hand. “You’re the best.”

  I followed him into our bedroom, the room he’d spent his second trimester redoing with antiques from the shop and a nursery nook where our child would spend their first few months of life. Neither of us thought we could bear to have the little one out of our sight right away, not even with a baby monitor.

  But for now, my omega lay spread-eagled on the bed, his baby bump more like a baby mountain that would be comical if not for the cock standing straight up below it. Perhaps there should be a commercial that says if your pregnant omega has a hard-on for the whole nine months, tell your doctor.

  But why make the poor doc jealous?

  Standing next to the bed, I shook my head, chuckling. “You sure you want to fool around? You look like a flipped-over turtle.”

  He struggled to lift his upper body on his elbows, a stricken expression on his face. “I do?”

  A pang struck the center of my chest. “A very hot flipped-over turtle.”

  “I’m not sure where to go with that.” Bewilderment replaced despair.

  “How about here.” I grabbed his feet and gave him a sharp yank to the edge of the bed. Shedding my robe, I knelt between his knees and closed my hand around his girth. Giving a squeeze, I watched it redden and swell even further. A long lick from bottom to top elicited a groan from my omega, and I smiled and brought him to my lips, parted them, and heard his moan. “You are so ready for me.” As he always was.

  But his next sound was another moan accompanied by his sitting upright and grabbing his belly. “I’m...I’m ready for something,” he muttered, struggling to stand. “But I think we’ll have to put off what we had planned.” His breathing was ragged. “I think things might be moving fast.” He lifted his gaze to where I stood over him, having leapt to my feet at some point I didn’t remember. “And it’s too early.”

  “It will be okay,” I said, not at all sure of that. “Let’s grab your bag and head out.” Although there was a great local midwife, we’d decided to use a birthing center two towns over. We’d visited just the previous week, admiring the family labor rooms and amazing birthing pools. Tak had joked he wanted dolphins in there, having read somewhere that they made great birthing assistants.

  But I heard no jokes as I drove him the twenty miles, cursing myself for agreeing to go somewhere so far away. We almost made it, too. I could see the town in the distance when he let out a cry. “The baby’s coming.”

  “No,” I insisted, against all logic. “Hold back. Clench!”

  “Chris,” he growled, arms wrapped arou
nd his middle and droplets of sweat rolling down his pale cheeks. “Pull. Over. Now.”

  My brain continued on even after we stopped. I dialed 911 as I ran around to his side of the car, terrified. I kept thinking the Volvo was the safest car on the road. But the baby was coming too early. We had a full month to go. No car could save our little one if their lungs weren’t developed enough, or if anything else went wrong.

  But I knew my job. As he pushed, I spoke calmly, encouraging him, listening to the instructions of the nurse the dispatcher had patched through to help me.

  The EMTs pulled up just in time to wrap our son in a warm blanket. He was small, but he was wailing, his strong little lungs ready to breathe the air outside my omega’s body.

  I’d never been so scared in my whole life.

  And, once I was convinced they were both fine...I’d never been so happy.

  “Is there a chaplain at the hospital you’re taking us to?” I asked one of the EMTs.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because, we’re getting married today,” I pronounced. “Tak, we can have a big party later, renew our vows, anything you want. But the sun will not set until we say I do and cement this family as it should be.”

  Tak looked up from the gurney about to be pushed into the ambulance. He held our son in his arms. “Now he thinks he can stop the sun from setting.” But his smile lit up my world. “If anyone can, it’s my alpha.”

  Epilogue

  Tak

  I didn’t leave the cradle’s side for about two weeks before Chris insisted I go outside and breathe in some fresh air.

  My alpha always knew just what I needed.

  And now, three months later, he knew it again.

  Daddy needed a bath.