Page 88 of The Pregnant Wolf Omega Next Door

Zenith leaned his head back against the wall. “Sometimes, as a dragon, I feel so invincible, and other times, I feel like I’m just a normal guy, trying to fumble his way through life.”

“I think we’re all like that,” Emre said. “Except we’re not all cool dragon shifters.”

Zenith huffed. “You’re still a shifter, which is pretty cool.”

Emre hummed.

They swayed with each other, trying to calm the babies. Zenith didn’t know how long they spent sitting against the wall, but Abbie and Bean finally fell asleep.

Emre sighed and slouched. “Okay,nowI’m tired.”

“Same here.” Zenith hesitated, his pulse kicking up.

The sound drew Emre’s attention. He turned a little, glancing at Zenith’s chest.

“So,” Zenith said, nervous all over again.

It was just a kiss.

But it was alsonotjust a kiss, because kisses held so much more weight than sex. So much more hung in the balance when you were offering someone your heart.

“What is it?” Emre whispered.

He gazed at Zenith openly, his pups right there in their arms. Emre was placing so much trust in Zenith, it almost made him speechless.

Zenith turned toward him, catching Emre’s chin to tip his face up. Then he leaned in close, so close that Emre’s breath fell on his lips.

“Zenith?” Emre croaked, his eyes wide. And nowhisheart was loud too.

The words fell out of Zenith’s mouth. “Has anyone told you that you’re perfect?”

Emre shook his head. “Just you.”

“That’s a damn shame, because everyone should know.”

Emre blushed, that fetching shade of pink all over his cheeks. Zenith’s heart swelled. And he closed the distance between them, sliding their mouths together in the gentlest kiss.

Emre gasped. Electricity sparked between them.

Then Emre kissed back, and Zenith was so happy, he could cry. Emre’s lips were soft and luscious; Zenith tasted peppermint tea on them. He swallowed Emre’s whimper.

“You’re amazing,” he growled.

Emre shivered against him, one hand coming up to clutch Zenith’s shirt. So Zenith kissed him again and again, nipping on Emre’s lower lip, flicking his tongue into Emre’s mouth. Emre opened for him, pliant and submissive, so eager to let Zenith have all of him.

“Mine,” Zenith said, winding his fingers into Emre’s hair to angle him better, so he could press more deeply into Emre’s mouth. Their tongues slid together, and Emre trembled against him.

Eventually, they broke the kiss, pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re gorgeous,” Zenith whispered.

“So are you,” Emre said, his face redder than before.

Zenith thought he might’ve gotten lost in Emre’s eyes for a while.

Then Abbie farted in her sleep, snapping them both out of it.

“Oh,” Emre said, laughing quietly. He looked around and seemed to realize where they were, and how late it was. “Bedtime?”