Lord's Fall (Elder Races #5)(91)

Then it was as if she had laid a whip across him, he reacted so violently. He reared back and yanked her up and around, until she was on her hands and knees, and she was there ahead of him, as she reached one hand between her legs and ripped her own panties off.

He froze for a moment, then muttered, “That’s got to be one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen you do.”

“Shut up,” she sobbed, groping for his penis.

“Ease up, sugar,” he whispered. “Let me do it.”

She yanked a pillow to her and buried her face in it, trembling, as she felt his long, hard fingers probe at her tender, swollen flesh gently. He drew out more of her natural moisture, and there, there, she rocked against him as he rubbed the head of his c**k against her, preparing her. Then he pressed into her, slick, hot and hard, hissing as she tightened her inner muscles around him. One final push and he was all the way home.

Her skin was damp, and she shivered all over. “You make me crazy,” she whimpered, rocking back against him as she rubbed her teary face in the linen. She didn’t know why making love often made her so weepy these days, unless it was her damn pregnancy hormones running amuck.

“Shh,” he whispered. He lowered himself down so that he covered her as completely as possible as he rocked inside of her. He rubbed his whiskery cheek against her back and pressed his lips against her shoulder blade. “I love you.”

She stilled and her head lifted. That was the second time he had said it, and instinctively, she knew that it wasn’t going to be something he said very often. She tried to look at him over her shoulder, but her damn hair was everywhere, and she could only see when he brushed the mass of it to one side for her.

And there he was, looking into her eyes with a completely wide-open, unbarriered gaze as he moved inside of her. He was one of the hardest creatures she had ever met, and yet for her, he set all of his hardness aside. When her climax came, it didn’t even feel physical it was so full of emotion.

I love you.

I love you, I love you.

After making love, they napped until the last of the afternoon melted away into evening.

When she woke up, she smiled as she curled her body along Dragos’s warm body and remembered the details of the day.

And that strange, wonderful dream with the peanut!

Liam. She loved that name.

Her stomach growled. Maybe she would sneak out and raid the fridge after all. At nine months, she was nowhere near the size of full-term, human pregnancies, but she was definitely beginning to feel ungainly. She rocked a little to get some momentum going then rolled off the edge of the bed and onto her feet. She wanted another piece of that nomilicious lemon sponge cake.

Cake. Birthday.

She frowned.

Bam! The baby kicked again, harder than he had ever kicked before, and she doubled over as warm liquid gushed between her legs.

Bracing herself with one hand on the edge of the bed, she stared down at herself in bewilderment. Her legs, feet and the rug she was standing on were all soaked, and strangest of all, she felt more hugely swollen than she had ever felt before.

What had just happened?

She said, “Dragos?”

He took a deep breath and stretched. In a lazy, sleep gravelly voice, he asked, “What are you doing out of bed?”

She told him in a small voice, “I think I’m having the baby.”

No matter how diffidently she said the words, they still rocketed through the room like a thunderclap. For one split second Dragos remained unmoving. Then he surged off the bed and stared at her, gold eyes blazing.

She stared back. She had never seen such a wild expression on his hard-edged face before.

“What did you just say?” he asked.

“My water just broke,” she said.

“It can’t do that,” he told her. He sounded completely calm and looked entirely insane. “The baby isn’t supposed to come for at least another year. He’s too premature.”

“Apparently he disagrees.” A squeezing pain gripped her, along with panic, and she sank to her knees. Oh God, oh God. She sobbed, “He told me his name is Liam.”

Dragos crouched, and with an immense spring, he cleared the bed to land right beside her. Carefully he gathered her up in his arms and strode out of the room. “What do you mean, he told you his name was Liam?” he said. “He can’t talk. He’s a fetus. And there’s no one around for f**king miles. No Wyr doctor, no nurse. No neighbors. There’s nobody here, Pia.”

She breathed through the vise that gripped her around the middle and said between her teeth, “Yeah, I got that.”

He carried her to another bedroom, flipped the light on with his elbow and eased her gently down onto the bed. Then he leaned over her, stroking her hair back from her face. His hands were shaking. “I could call people and have them fly in,” he said roughly. “But you need a hospital. I’ll get you wrapped up and fly you out.”

Finally the viselike grip in her abdomen eased and she sucked in a deep breath. “Wait a minute,” she said, gripping him by the wrist. “We’re panicking. We need to calm down and think about this.” She looked down at herself and whimpered. “Why am I so big?”

He stared down at her, breathing heavily. Then he placed both his hands on her swollen belly and she gasped as he sent a spear of Power piercing into her. His gaze turned inward for a moment, and he said, “The baby’s shapeshifted. He’s in his human form now. I’m guessing he’s around seven pounds.”