Omega House Books 1-5: Alpha Omega MPreg Romance Box Set

by Grace, Aria

  “Fuck!” My cock is fully seated within his warm channel and it feels amazing. I pull out slowly, but Andy takes control, pushing against me and sucking me back in. And that’s fine by me. My omega can have his way any time he wants it.

  Andy slides back and forth on my cock, bucking against me and slamming his ass against my balls. My cock is completely buried inside him and he feels fucking amazing.

  I take his cock in my hand, stroking him closer to a climax. He struggles beneath me, trying not to shoot too soon. But if he doesn’t come fast, I certainly will. He’s become a pro at making his pleasure my pleasure, and I don’t think I can last much longer.

  “Baby… I’m going to come.” My mouth is dry, and I’m grunting heavily with each thrust he takes for me. The skin on my cock is stretching as my knot expands, preparing to lock into his ass as I spray my seed inside of him.

  “Fuck! Now!” His cry of pleasure is enough for me. With two more strokes of his cock, Andy spews warm, milky cream across his stomach and chest. In an instant, my knot is completely locked inside his channel as my dick pulses. Each drop of come is forced to soak inside of him as I empty load after load.

  I continue to ride my orgasm as I play with Andy’s cock, making him squirm as he finishes riding his own electric current. Carefully moving his leg up and over my body, I gently lay down beside him, my knot still locked in his opening.

  “God, I needed that,” Andy says between panted breaths.

  And I completely agree with him. Wrapping my arms around him, I pull Andy into my chest and kiss his neck. “I love you so much.”

  “Jude, you’ve made me so happy. You’ve given me a loving home, a son, safety, and security. Love doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about you.”

  We lay there in silence for several minutes before my knot goes down and slips out of Andy’s tight ass. A minute later, his soft breaths confirm he’s sleeping. Only a few moments pass before I fall asleep next to him, holding him tightly in my arms.

  Unaware of how much time has passed, the small cry from the baby monitor next to the bed alerts me that Jeremy is awake. Andy stirs, beginning to reach up for the blanket to pull it away. I place a hand over his and stop him. “Let me.”

  I hop out of bed and stumble toward Jeremy’s room. The honeypot nightlight on the wall provides enough of a glow that I can make out his crying form in the crib. “It’s okay, buddy. Daddy’s here.” I gingerly pick him up, grabbing his blanket along with him. A small fridge to the side of his crib is where Andy has been storing the pumped milk. Using the bottle warmer we got as a gift, I set the glass baby bottle inside and wait for it to do its magic. The machine doesn’t take long to heat up, and after a few minutes, the milk is warm enough for Jeremy’s tummy.

  Sitting in the rocker, I hold Jeremy tight as I lower the nipple to his mouth. He begins to suck eagerly as his eyes search mine. “Hey, baby boy. You were hungry, huh?”

  Jeremy continues to suck, closing his eyes as he trusts me to take care of his needs. It’s moments like this when I can clearly see several of Andy’s features on my son’s face…and even a few of mine. Thoughts of my mate and my son bring a smile to my face and a fullness to my heart. Just when I think I can’t be any happier or have any more joy in my life, my heart finds a way to pull in a little more love.

  One of Each

  Omega House #4

  By Aria Grace

  49

  Gunnar

  There are a few clouds overhead when I get to the ranger station, but I’m not worried. This should be a quick ride that will have me back at the trailhead within the hour, and I’ll be heading back well before the storm they keep talking about on the radio hits us.

  If I could have picked up my bike on Thursday like I was promised, I’d spend the entire day out here breaking it in. But weather delays up north added three extra days to my delivery schedule. I’m just glad the shop was not only willing to accept the delivery on a Sunday but that they stayed open long enough for me to pick it up.

  This new bike is sick with a carbon fiber frame that’s lighter than anything I’ve ever ridden. And it’s calling out to me. I don’t care about a few clouds in the sky. I plan to put some miles on this thing today.

  The trail I’ve selected for my maiden voyage includes several miles of sheer cliffs over a rolling creek. It’s not dangerous in most situations, but because of some recent bear sightings, the parks department has asked all guests to check in at the visitor center before heading out. It’s on my way, so I heft the bike frame up to my shoulder and walk inside the ranger station.

  A bell chimes on the door, announcing my arrival.

  “Just a second,” someone calls out from behind the front desk. A moment later, the ranger stands up, flashing big brown eyes and a growing smile that slowly reveals two deep dimples. “Hey, sorry about that. Dropped my pen.” He holds up a ball point pen proudly.

  “Looks like you found it.” I lean my hip against the counter with my bike out of the way. “Are you our new ranger?”

  “Ranger, receptionist, janitor, bushwhacker… The list goes on and on.” He motions to a broom and mop bucket against the far wall. “Budget cuts, you know.”

  Finally, budget cuts actually serve a good purpose. Bringing this gorgeous man to my favorite park. “Welcome…um, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Collin. Collin Rich.”

  “Good to meet you, Collin. I’m Gunnar Tobin.” I reach across the counter and take his hand in mine. His palm is just rough enough to prove he works hard for a living. He’s obviously a hands-on kind of ranger. And if I’m lucky, I can get him to play ranger with his hands on me someday. “I just wanted to check in before I hit Scorpion Trail.”

  “Scorpion Trail?” He whistles between his teeth. “That’s pretty intense with rain coming in a few hours. You planning to do the entire trail?”

  I glance at my watch. “I think I can make it up and back before it starts to pour. This baby here is light enough that I should be able to drop at least thirty minutes from my old time. And if it gets bad, I’ll turn around.”

  “Sounds good, but don’t take any longer than necessary. There’s been some heavy rain up north and we might also see some flooding by this afternoon. I don’t want you getting caught out there.”

  “Thanks, Ranger Rich.” I wink and then write my number next to my name on the visitor registration form, just in case he needs it. “I’ll check back with you on my way out.”

  “Be sure that you do.” Collin’s eyes wander down my body and are lingering at the bulge in my spandex before they shoot back up to my face. “If I don’t hear from you by the time the water comes, I’ll have to go looking for you.”

  I turn to leave, holding up three fingers just before I reach the door. “Scout’s honor, Ranger Rich.”

  “Collin is fine,” he calls out to me as I open the door to leave.

  I don’t look back at him before the door shuts behind me, but I can’t hide the smile I’ll be sporting until I’m back in here.

  * * *

  If I didn’t hear the rain forecast for myself this morning, I would think Collin was crazy because it’s absolutely beautiful. Of course, that can change at a moment’s notice, but right now, it’s a perfect day for a ride. The rain warnings must have scared the tourists and hikers away because there aren’t many people on the trails, which is exactly the way I like it. Scorpion Trail is only fifteen miles up and back, but there’s a 3500-foot climb, so it’s intense.

  And when there are power walkers and joggers trying to take over the narrow road, it’s a nightmare. Trying to keep momentum while riding up hill and not killing anybody on the way down is almost as much of a workout as the ride itself.

  But today won’t be like that.

  Today, it’s just me and my new baby, out on a virgin ride to get to know each other.

  Spring is taking forever to arrive this year, and I don’t want to miss a single minute of the sunshine. Now that I fi
nally have my allergies under control, I can enjoy all the wild flowers in bloom without having itchy eyes and a runny nose. I just wish I’d remembered to grab my helmet camera to capture some of the beauty around me since I’ll be too focused on the trail in front of me to take it all in.

  I’m more than halfway up the hill when the first drop of rain hits my arm. It feels good on my overheated skin, so I press on, pumping my legs even harder to crest the peak before it really starts to come down. The last stretch of the climb overlooks a series of waterfalls on the other mountain that are breathtaking, even in my peripheral vision. The current flow of water off the mountain is thicker and even whiter than usual, which reminds me that I need to get my ass in motion if I’m gonna avoid driving home completely drenched.

  As I turn the final bend, a group of bikers pass on their way down. The man in front calls out to me as I scoot to the edge of the trail to make room for them. “Storm’s coming in. Better head back.”

  “Right behind you,” I say as they ride past me. At least I will be in about ten minutes.

  This last stretch is the worst, but I’ve done this ride a hundred times. And when I’m cruising down the mountain with the flurries of raindrops cooling me off, it will all be worth it.

  A jack rabbit crosses right in front of me, forcing me to hit my brakes and almost lose control. Fortunately, I’m not going too fast to recover from the unexpected movement. Unfortunately, though, it slows me down enough to lose my uphill momentum. Now I have to work twice as hard in my lowest gear just to stay upright on this climb.

  50

  Sean

  This is why I’ll probably flunk out of the photography program it took me two years to get accepted in to. Not because I don’t understand the work but because I keep procrastinating on my final project—the most important project of the semester. I don’t even know why it’s taken me until the last week of classes to get my ass out here to take the shots. I love photography and nature and hiking and everything that this project entails.

  Yet, I’m still fiddling with lens and energy bars in my car instead of getting out on the trail.

  What is wrong with me? My brother thinks I have a fear of success. I think he’s an idiot. What kind of person would be afraid of finding success? Is that even a thing? It doesn’t sound like a legit condition, but whether it is or isn’t, it doesn’t apply to me.

  I’ve just been busy.

  Being available as a counselor at Omega House is important work that has been creeping well beyond the hours I’m clocked in. I really like being there for the new omegas when they arrive scared and vulnerable. I was there once, and I know exactly what they’re going through. Finding Omega House was the best thing that ever happened to me and my twin brother, Seth. We were fifteen when our dad died and within a few months of trying to stay in school and stay off the radar of social services, we were homeless and starving.

  We wandered past a flyer for meetings at Omega House and as soon as we saw that free food would be served, we were in. That was seven years ago, and we’ve been living there ever since. Of course, now we’re both employed as resident counselors to earn our keep. But I don’t plan to stay there forever. I love it and wish I could commit my life to helping others, but I need to get out on my own at some point, and I’m hoping photography might be my ticket to independence.

  A graphic design company offered the community college ten million dollars in grant money to set up a photography program to recruit photographers who would provide stock photos for their commercial use. If it sounds like I’ve sold my soul to the man, then I’m explaining it right because that’s exactly what I’ve done. But if I pass the program, I’ll be offered an entry-level photography position with a guaranteed $40,000 salary for my first year, plus royalties.

  That’s enough for Seth and me to get an apartment, and I’ll still have time to work at Omega House on a part-time basis.

  But that’s only possible if I pass the class. And unless I can take a rare and completely unexpected photo in the next four days, I won’t be passing anything.

  Which is why I finally strap on my backpack and adjust my poncho over the camera hanging from my neck and take off toward the trailhead.

  * * *

  The temperature has dropped several degrees, and the clouds seem to be getting darker by the second, but I’m not ready to throw in the towel. After scouring the internet for interesting photo opportunities this weekend, this is my best and only hope at something rare.

  It wasn’t easy to find, but a forum on medicinal plants referenced a small patch of Karvi nestled along the rocks of the mountain. These purple flowers are native to India but must have been transplanted here at some point. And because they only bloom every eight years, they’re just starting to open up right now.

  At least, that’s what I read.

  If I can find the patch of Karvi and take some decent pictures of it, I’ll be fine. I know I can document my photo and the conditions with the kind of detail my professor is expecting. But if I can’t find it before the flowers die off or are destroyed by the high waters expected this week, I might as well kiss any hope of a career in photography goodbye.

  There are signs posted in the parking lot asking all visitors to check in at the ranger station prior to getting on a trail. If I were here for an afternoon hike, I totally would. But I don’t plan to go far enough on any trail for that to matter. The instructions I read online said that the Karvi plant should be visible from the trail, right where the creek meets the base of the footbridge. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to hike down to the creek bed, take my shots, and be back in my warm car before the first raindrop splashes down.

  Although I’ve never actually been lucky before, this seems like a no-brainer.

  After I carefully climb down the rocky bank to get closer to the creek, a patch of purple flowers becomes visible up ahead. They’re only about twenty yards away, so I head straight for them with my camera ready. Just as I’m about to take my first shot, I realize they aren’t the Karvi flowers I’m looking for. They’re pretty blueish-purple flowers that would make a nice photo, but they aren’t special in any way. And what I need right now is special.

  While I’m here, I take a few minutes to get some shots of the various stages of blooms, but these pictures won’t earn me a job.

  In fact, these look like the shots taken by every single Photography 101 student since the beginning of time…or the camera.

  Movement up ahead catches my attention, and I look downstream just in time to see a family of deer crossing the creek. I can’t get my lens cover off fast enough to capture the animals on film, but it does make me smile to see actual wildlife in its natural environment. Hoping the deer know where the interesting plants are, I follow in the direction they’re going, sticking close to the water so I don’t get lost.

  I’ve only been walking for about five minutes before I feel the first drops of rain hit the back of my neck. So much for my luck holding out. Or maybe my bad luck is holding out. I tell myself it’s just my imagination and keep trudging on, determined to find something photoworthy before I have to turn back and take cover.

  The rocks are slippery, slowing me down as I try to maneuver the uneven and narrow shore. Following the bend is where I finally feel a glimmer of hope that this will all workout. Just a few yards ahead of me, sticking out of the rocky wall, is the patch of Karvi I need to complete my portfolio project. And the freezing water trickling down my back is all worth it.

  The plant itself is a fairly standard-looking shrub. Other than the fact that they hardly ever bloom, it isn’t a very remarkable flower. It’s pretty, and interesting because I’ve never seen one in person before, but it’s still just a purple flower growing out of the mountainside. A smaller patch is growing about six feet above the waterline, but in order to get close enough for the undershot I want, I’ll have to get my feet wet.

  The water is only about eight inches deep where I need to stand, but it’s moving
quickly. It must be raining harder upstream because I have to shift my weight forward in order to keep my balance as I tread closer to my destination.

  For this project, composition matters.

  The shapes and colors and textures will all be scrutinized for perfection. In addition to composition, lighting and subject will all be weighted equally so I can’t leave any angle or position uncaptured.

  I snap about thirty shots with my neutral density filter before twisting it off and switching to my polarizing filter. In this lighting, the shots are totally different, so I take another full set. Raindrops are falling faster now and collecting on my lens, so I pull out my travel umbrella and try to hold it between my neck and shoulder while adjusting my angle.

  I’m just about satisfied I have all the shots I need to put my final portfolio piece together when I hear shouting in the distance. It takes me a minute to figure out where it’s coming from, but at the top of a cliff, a man beside a bike is waving his arms. He seems to be in distress, but I can’t hear what he’s shouting over the sounds of rushing water behind me. It takes a split second before my mind registers the sound before I turn and see a wall of black water rushing toward me.

  I don’t even have time to get out of the way before I’m completely engulfed in the rapids, rolling through the dirty waves as they toss me above the surface only long enough to catch my breath before pulling me back under again through the rocks and debris.