The thought of finally doing something for me felt foreign, almost too big to hold. But it was there, a spark catching light in my chest. And it needed out.
Skye started to stand, groaning as he rocked forward. Skye was still rather chiseled for an omega, you know, other than the pregnancy. Broad shoulders, muscled arms, he probably had abs long before he had a belly, but that feltimpolite to ask. His inked skin caught the dying sun, the black beetles and butterflies sprawled across his chest looking like they might flutter to life.
And before I could think, before I could reason, I launched.
He yelped as I tackled him back onto the nest, my hands bracketing his face as I smothered him in kisses: cheeks, forehead, nose, all soft and fast like I was trying to devour him with affection.
“Violet!” he squealed, kicking his feet as I kept going. “What the hell is happening?!”
I just giggled as I nuzzled against him, overwhelmed by the surge of joy that had nowhere else to go.
And, what started as a harmless way to burn off some joy escalated the second he grabbed my wrists and rolled me to the mattress.
With one last kiss, he anchored me to the nest. His chest heaved, and his cheeks were flushed.
“Vi—“ he panted. “What—what are you doing?”
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I could barely breathe. But the words were there, rising like a tide I couldn’t stop.
I opened my mouth, unsure if sound would come out clearly. My throat burned with the effort, my lips trembled,
And then, barely above a whisper, I said, “I w-w-want y-y-you.”
Skye froze, and I wondered if I needed to try again. The W sound was hard, and Y wasn’t much better. I’m sure my speech therapist would be happy I even tried.
But trying wasn’t doing. I needed to go further.
“I w-ant—“ I took extra time with the word, trying to annunciate it perfectly. “Skye.”
Skye’s breath hitched and his fingers tightened around my wrists as his entire body stilled over mine.
After a moment, he lowered himself until our noses brushed and his belly pressed into mine.
“Say it again,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Please.”
I swallowed hard, lips trembling under the weight of his gaze. But I forced the words past the knot in my throat.
“I w-want you,” I repeated. “Skye.”
His lips crashed into mine before I could draw another breath. Skye groaned against my mouth and rolled his hips just enough to make me gasp. He swallowed the sound before pulling back only far enough to pant, “Tell me if I need to stop.”
I shook my head.
“Use your words, Vi,” he commanded. “Say yes. I heard you talk. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
I mewled, jutting out my bottom lip. Every single part of me wanted to talk, but it was just so damn hard, and my throat hurt after just those few words.
Skye’s hands slipped under my dress and his palms trailed up my thighs. His mouth pressed as his belly pressed down against mine, a ridiculous, perfect pressure that made me feel like we were made to fit together, even when we were both bloated hormonal messes.
“You want me?” he whispered, voice shaking as his nose brushed mine. “Because if you keep saying yes, Vi, I’ll fuck you harder than I ever have before.”
I nodded, gasping as his hand slid between us, fingers dragging along the soaked seam of my panties. My hips lifted instinctively, desperate for more of him.
“Say it,” he demanded, dragging his fingers up my slit. “Sayyes.”
My throat burned, but the word forced itself out on a breathless whimper. “Y-y-yes.”
Skye groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder.