[BL] Oops! I Seduced My Sister's Fiance (And Now I'm Pregnant) Chapter 131: Midnight

I wake up soti around midnight to absolute stillness.

The heavy, suffocating heat from earlier has cleared out of the air slightly, and against my back, Bael’s breathing is steady, long, and stable. The high fever that had been burning his skin has finally gone down. He is fast asleep, but his arm is still wrapped like a heavy iron bar over my waist, pinning against his chest.

I stare into the dark room, feeling entirely, utterly stupid.

How did I let myself fall right back into this situation? Why did I even just follow him up to this room in the first place? I should have stopped at the door. I should have dug my heels in.

Not to ntion how completely caught off guard I was when he cornered against the door and asked why I let another Alpha touch my waist.

Thinking about it now, the realization makes my blood run hot with a mix of humiliation and rage.

I should have spat right in his face the second those words left his mouth. How dare he ask sothing like that? How dare he act like a possessive, wronged husband when it hasn’t even been two months since he walked through the front door of this very house slling like another Oga?

I squeeze my eyes shut, a bitter wave of anger at myself washing over .

At first, when Bael was acting so jealous of Elliot, a stupid, pathetic part of had actually felt a tiny spark of hope.

I had thought, just for a split second, that maybe Bael might actually truly care about after all. But after realizing that it was all just an early biological trigger...that it was nothing but his rut driving his instincts wild...the hope dissolved into a sharp, heavy pang of pain.

I hate myself for even hoping. This much should have been expected. It’s always like this with Bael.

To distract my brain from the dull ache in my chest, I try to force my thoughts back to the cafe.... Why did Elliot ask that question?

*"Do you plan to stay in the marriage after the birth?"*

...What really is my answer to that?

What is my plan? I know... I can’t live like this forever, trapped in a cold house with a husband who only looks at when his hormones force him to.

But what are my choices? Am I supposed to just abandon my own child after birth to chase my own individual happiness and future? Would I even be able to be happy after doing sothing so heartless?

No. I don’t have any plans of abandoning my kid. I could never do that.

But why did Elliot of all people ask a question that personal?

The look in his eyes flashes through my mind again. My heart stutters.

...No.

Surely not.

Does Elliot actually like ?

The thought feels ridiculous. Then again, maybe not.

My own life has been such a disaster lately that I probably wouldn’t have noticed even if he did.

I think back to all the tis he’d looked at strangely, only for the expression to disappear before I could figure out what it ant.

Maybe I wasn’t imagining it after all.

But why would he do that to himself? Why fall for a married man? A married man carrying another man’s child, no less.

I let out a breathless, mocking sound into the empty room.

Like I’m one to talk.

Here I am, completely in love with Bael, a man who is harder to emotionally seduce than a married man who actually loves his wife.

At least Elliot’s feelings, if they’re real, have a chance of fading soday.

Mine never seem to.

A sharp rumble from my stomach suddenly breaks the silence, instantly disrupting my spiral.

Hunger at night.

Of course.

My body chooses right now to rember that the last thing I put into my stomach was that cup of lemon tea I had with Elliot yesterday around four in the afternoon. Since then, I’ve been dragged, stripped, and thoroughly spent through two intense rounds of Bael’s rut.

I need to get up.

Carefully, I reach down and grab Bael’s wrist, trying to slide his hand off my waist so I can slip out of the bed. But the second I try to shift my hips forward, Bael’s grip tightens automatically, pulling back against him.

The sudden friction of the movent makes realize sothing humiliating.

Bael’s cock is still inside , partially soft but still filling the entrance. As he pulls back, it slides completely out of my opening with a soft, wet sound.

My ass twitches involuntarily at the sudden loss of the warmth, and I imdiately feel so embarrassed I want the mattress to swallow whole.

I grit my teeth, determined to get out of this bed, and try to force my way up one more ti. Bael still doesn’t let go. His fingers dig into my hip, anchoring down.

"Hmm... don’t move," Bael mutters from behind . His voice is incredibly rough, thick with sleep, and completely muffled against the back of my ear.

Before I can tell him to let go, my stomach chooses that exact mont to let out another loud, long grumble. It echoes clearly between our bodies.

Bael’s entire body stiffens against mine. He definitely heard it.

The tight grip on my waist slowly loosens. Bael shifts behind , the blankets rustling as he sits up and swings his long legs out of the bed.

I push myself up onto my elbows, sitting back against the pillows as I watch him move through the dim light of the room. He is completely naked, his broad shoulders and back gleaming faintly with a thin layer of dried sweat, but he doesn’t seem to care.

He walks directly over to the small fridge in the corner of the room. He opens it, the faint light illuminating his face, and reaches inside.

When his hand pulls back, he’s holding a small bag of ginger biscuits...the exact brand he must have bought for God knows when.

He reaches for a bottle of cold water next, but stops. He looks at it for a second, then sets the cold bottle back down into the fridge and shuts the door.

Bael walks back over to the nightstand. He picks up the glass jug of room-temperature water sitting there and pours it into the glass cup beside it.

He turns back to the bed and hands the bag of biscuits.

I take them silently, my fingers brushing against his warm palm. I try to get my legs around the edge of the mattress to stand up and grab the water myself, but the mont I shift my weight, my thighs tremble violently. My lower body feels completely unbalanced, raw, and heavy from the sheer depth of how he fucked earlier.

Realizing that arguing or trying to walk will only make look more pathetic, I swallow my pride. I stay exactly where I am, opening the bag with a small crinkle of plastic.

Bael doesn’t say a word. He takes the glass of warm water from the nightstand, climbs right back onto the mattress, and settles himself directly behind . He rests his back against the wooden headrest, pulls my body back until my spine is pressed against his chest, and wraps one large hand around my waist to hold steady.

He leans his head down, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss against the side of my neck.

"Eat," he murmurs roughly.

I chew on the dry ginger biscuit in absolute silence, the flavor sharp against my tongue.

I don’t bother fighting him, and I don’t bother trying to pull away. I just eat quietly while Bael keeps his arm securely locked around my middle, his head resting completely on my shoulder.

Every few seconds, I can feel him shifting slightly, his nose brushing against my skin as he softly sniffs my collarbone and neck.

The rut is still there, apparently. The violent, feral edge of it is mostly gone, but why else would he be holding like this? Why else would Bael be acting this needy and protective if the lingering hormones weren’t still ssing with his brain?

I take a slow sip of the water he holds up to my lips, keeping my eyes fixed on the dark wall ahead, reminding myself of the only truth that matters.

He’ll be back to normal tomorrow.