before.
“Love you…love you…”
Zana couldn’t believe his luck. His husband’s nineteen-year-old body was insatiable.
“You’ve been made for this. Made for passion.”
Navid’s throbbing shaft dripped on his underbelly, and his nipples were dark red, sticking out needily. Zana bent and sucked one into his mouth just as he pressed in as deep as he could. Navid screamed. So Zana did it again with the other one.
When he lifted his head, Navid pinched them and pulled on them in a way that must have been painful, but he writhed with his endless orgasm. With the next wave, Zana would fasten the clamps on him again. He just couldn’t do it all the time.
Torturing his nipples, Navid met Zana’s thrusts. His eyes rolled in the back of his head. His husband wasn’t entirely conscious anymore. Navid’s body craved a knot so it could rest before another storm of need would come.
Zana scooped a drop of Navid’s seed from his torso and licked his finger. That was all he needed, and his body burst with ecstasy. He’d had heat sex before he’d gotten married—within the two of his relationships that had lasted long enough—but he’d never bred anyone without protection, and he’d never been in love with anyone he’d had heat sex with.
Knotting Navid was a soul-changing experience, and breeding him was heaven. After he spilled into Navid’s womb, Navid went boneless. The most blissful smile curved his lips, and he slumped on the bed, eyes closed. When Zana lifted him, Navid hung in his arms like a rag doll, head lolling.
With the last of his strength, Zana moved them to the middle of the bed, Navid in his lap. He’d thought Navid had been asleep, but after a minute, he spoke.
“I wish I could get pregnant already.”
Cupping Navid’s nape, Zana kissed the top of his head.
“We have time. You might even finish your bachelor’s degree before your second heat. There’s no rush. You’re only nineteen, darling.”
“I know. It’s the heat talking.”
Zana hummed. “Your womb is full of my cum. Your brain is soaked with heat hormones.”
“I love the feeling.”
“Me too. I never thought it could be like this.”
“I keep forgetting it’s your first too.”
“First breeding, yes. It makes me happy I have a first I can share with you.”
Navid kissed his chest and wiggled, stirring their connection.
“With your second heat, your body will be mature enough, and the womb will sink even lower,” Zana said. “Breeding is more pleasurable with each heat.”
“More? How is it even possible? I’ll faint if I orgasm more intensely.”
“If you do, you’ll keep coming, even unconscious.”
“That’s insane.”
“And when you get pregnant, it’ll feel a little like heat all the time. Pregnancy sex is supposed to be wonderful.”
“It can’t hurt the baby?”
“Not at all.”
“Zana, how many children do you want?”
“As many as you can give me.”
Navid chuckled tiredly. “Okay.”
“You should sleep. The heat is peaking. We don’t know when the next wave comes. It could be in a few hours already.”
After a moment of quiet, Navid sighed. “I keep dreaming about it. About your son growing inside me.”
“Two more years, and it’ll be reality. Now rest, my love.”
“I love you so much.” The words were slurred with sleep.
11
Navid
Two years later
“I should’ve suspected with your first heat, Navid. It came so early and so suddenly. Irregular heats are one of the symptoms. But the condition is so rare it didn’t even occur to me.”
“Can you please tell us the results, Doctor?” Zana tapped his fingers on his knee and crossed his ankles. The sight made Navid’s stomach hurt. Zana never fidgeted.
Dr. Ellis’s face softened. “I’m so sorry, Navid.”
Zana gripped Navid’s hand, bracing himself for the news, but Navid knew. He’d known for weeks and already found a solution. I must be strong. I’ve prepared for this.
“You can try,” Dr. Ellis continued. “And I recommend you keep trying. But with the Everett Douglas syndrome, the chance of you getting pregnant is low.”
“How low?” Zana asked. Navid shook his head. His husband always wanted data. Facts. Navid didn’t need any. He’d felt it before the doctor had even opened his mouth. Even before the routine check. And when they had done all those tests, he’d known.
“It’s difficult to say exactly. Ten percent this time? Lower with each upcoming heat. To compare, for an omega in his twenties, the chance of getting pregnant if bred by a fertile alpha more than twice during his second heat is ninety-four percent.”
“But is Navid healthy?” Zana urged. “Is he in any danger?”
“Of course not. As I told