Page 67 of The Pregnant Wolf Omega Next Door

“I should mention that I’m in no way attracted to Uriel,” Zenith said awkwardly. “Or Ulgon. Or Burnzinger.”

“Holy crap,” Emre whispered, his ears pink. “This is, um. This is really hot.”

Zenith breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. I’m glad you think so. Please,pleasedon’t ask him about Bruiser when you see him tomorrow, or he’ll murder me.”

Emre’s mouth twitched. “So, what’s with their fake names?”

“I’m just following my employer’s request to name them Ulgon and Burnzinger. Not that it really conceals their identities, if you know what to look out for.” Zenith sighed.

“I want to read the whole thing,” Emre said. “It sounds amazing. Are Uriel and Bruiser like this in real life?”

“Yes.They bicker so much, everyone has already placed bets on when and how they’ll get together. You’ll understand it if you see them in person.”

Emre turned, slow and innocent, to peek at Zenith. “Will Bruiser be here tomorrow?”

Zenith froze. “We’re not supposed to set them up, or we void our entry in the betting pool.”

Mischief flickered through Emre’s face. “But if they accidentally meet?”

Zenith began to frown.

“Leave it to me!” Huxton bellowed through the mansion.

Emre lit up. Zenith facepalmed.

“They’re like an explosion and a half,” Zenith said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“This is so exciting!” Emre wriggled on Zenith’s lap and scrolled up to read more of the sex scene—seemingly unaware that his ass was grinding against Zenith’s crotch. Right over his covered cock. “Oh, there’s more.”

Zenith gritted his teeth, torn between pointing out exactly what Emre was sitting on, and letting Emre wriggle until he felt the consequences of his actions.

Emre kept reading, his breath hitching, little pleased sounds falling from his lips.

Zenith bit down his groan. “You want some of what they’re getting?”

“I... Maybe?” Emre said breathlessly. “I think you could convince me.”

Zenith huffed. “You’re sitting on my most convincing argument.”

Emre shifted in confusion, grinding down on Zenith’s hard-on. “Oh!” He blushed bright red and leaped to his feet. “Sorry! Um, tomorrow, maybe?”

He peeked at Zenith’s hips, his face turning pinker.

“Really?” Zenith said, surprised. “You don’t have to. I know it hasn’t even been a week since the birth, and... This isn’t something I have any control over. Something’s wrong with my body.”

Emre frowned deeply. “I want to help. I could hear you having... problems. If it’s something I can do... I just need to figure out how to balance that with keeping Bean warm.”

He glanced helplessly at the little ball of fur cradled in his hands.

“I think Uriel might have a solution,” Zenith said.

Emre perked up. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Zenith tried not to look too desperate, but it was hard when Emre’s warmth was still imprinted in his lap. “I’ll see you later, okay? Gotta work on my book.” He gestured vaguely at the screen.

“Right, of course.” Emre bobbed his head.

But his gaze dropped knowingly to the hard line in Zenith’s pants. Zenith blushed.