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Bonus Content


“Gabriella Astor, what are you doing?” I call out, entering our nursery while my pretty girl stands atop a chair, and places a stack of spell books on the highest shelf. She’s six months pregnant, fucking beautiful, and ready to go into labor at any moment. Not that it stops her. If anything, her nesting drives her to move, and clean, and organize everything we touched the day before.

A trait, I admit is utterly crazy yet adorable.

Like I find the way she reaches a hand up, ass bouncing while she gets the grimoire’s just right, sinful. But then again, my cock is always hard for her.

My queen. My mate.

“Hey, love.” Still not turning to look at me, Gabriella huffs a breath through gritted teeth and then slides them to the opposite corner. She turns them slightly, then changes their stacking order three times, and all the while, I follow each move like the predator I am.

While I’ve always loved her body, and live for the feel of her pinned beneath me, this is more.

I’m a demon. Born from a god and his desire for a human female—I’ve fed off the blood of humans for a millennium—and yet, the sight of her swollen with my child brings me down to my knees.

For her. Only ever her.

My beautiful vampiric witch.

She jumps a little when I drag her yoga pants down her lithe thighs, a giggle slipping through when I growl at her. She’s not wearing any underwear, completely bare and so wet, and I bite her right asscheek in retaliation.

That ends her amusement, and a second later I’m rewarded with a moan. It’s a needy sound. Wanton, but there’s something else to it. Relief?

My pretty girl’s body shivers and goosebumps rise across her sensitive skin, yet it’s the drops of wetness that cling to her pussy lips that I’m hypnotized by. I watch them as they slide and gather, and I push her down just a bit with a hand to her lower back, before licking her from clit to clenching hole. Growling against her cunt as her taste explodes on my tongue, my eyes rolling back while beads of pre-come slip from my engorged head.

Yet I ignore it. My need.

This is about her. Gabriella’s been tense and worried and she’s so fucking beautiful—it is my privilege to worship her. Because I live for her pleasure-fueled noises. Those little kittenish mewls that come from the back of her throat, and I’m rewarded with one when I slide a finger into her pussy.

“Oh fuck, my king,” she purrs, opening her thighs as much as the chair allows. “That feels so good.”

“Naughty girl. You knew, didn’t you?” That earns her a sharp spank to the ass that I soothe a second later with a kiss. I’m sliding three thick fingers inside, testing her dilation and my pretty girl is close. Why didn’t she tell me? “How long have you been in labor?”

“Since this morning,” she grits out, pushing back against my hand, but then groans when I pull out. Through our bond, I can feel how much she needs this. The release to help ease her aches—as the rest of her body becomes tense—riddled with the pains of a contraction. “Please, Theo. I need—”

“I’ll always give you what you need, pretty girl. I got you.” Standing, I pick her up by the waist and walk us into the adjacent birthing room. From conception, we chose to make this a private moment between the two of us—no healers or midwife—we’d tend to our child and announce the birth a week after.

We equipped the space with a large round bed and dimmed lighting, while a large humidifier spread a replica of my scent throughout the room. It helps to calm her; a thoughtful gift from Isabella after learning about our pregnancy.

“Fuck, this hurts.” She whimpers as I strip her down and place her in the center of the mattress. I’m quick to undress, placing my body behind hers before pulling Gabriella into my chest. Let her lean on me. “I can feel the baby moving down. The pressure—”

“Breathe with me, love. Let your body do what it needs to.” With firm strokes, I begin massaging down her arm and then her fingers before slowly rubbing soothing circles across her swollen stomach. And it’s then I feel the ripple of a contraction, how every muscle in her body locks down tight before a pain-filled cry slips from her mouth. “It will be over soon, pretty girl. You’re doing so good.”

“I should’ve told you earlier,” Gabby pants, falling forward and onto all fours. She’s gripping the bedding, her blood-red eyes looking back at me. “A magazine online said sex helps move things along, and I made it worse.”

“Nothing you do is ever wrong.” That earns me a watery grin. The tears will never fall, but I feel the same way. We’ve wanted this for so long. “Our little one’s just excited and ready to meet its kingdom. He or she will be the perfect mini dictator.”

“I love you, Theodore Astor. With everything I am.”

“As do I, my queen. In every life.” A vow that she follows with a guttural scream. Her fangs drop and pierce her bottom lip while her eyes remain on mine, never wavering as she pushes. Her nails shred the bedsheets, tearing easily through the mattress, and I’m caging her body until the head crowns.

On her next whimper, I have her turned around and facing me while my fangs break the skin of her neck. It settles her instantaneously, yet I don’t retract them. We stay this way through each contraction, connected and celebrating our love while she sighs into my bite.

“It’s time, my king.” There’s a drowsy quality to her tone now, and I feel through our link as she melts into the pain. Gabriella welcomes the next contraction with a smile on her face and I release her, placing both hands between her thighs and watch in awe as our baby girl is born.

And as her little mouth crinkles and opens, an enormous yawn escaping her, my world changes for the second time.

The love I have for my daughter knows no bounds or measures. This is pure and all-consuming, and I’m humbled by the gift given to us by the gods.

“Welcome to the world, Beloved Rose Astor.”

“Beloved?” my pretty girl asks, eyes shining and smile a bit watery, as I guide her with one hand toward the mountain of pillows we never used. She lets me adjust her without complaint, though—and the split second while I hold them both—causes my once cold heart to thump harshly inside my chest. “Gods, she’s perfect.”

“Just like her mother.” Placing her atop Gabriella’s chest, I lean down and kiss both my girls before checking my mate over. She’s still bleeding a bit, but the vampiric side of her is aiding in her healing. “She’s mostly you with a touch of me, and nothing is more precious than that. Our Beloved Rose Astor.”

“I wonder what we’ll name our future son, then? We have to give him something just as meaningful.”

At her comment, my head snaps in her direction. A smirk tugs at my lips. “You want more children, pretty girl?”

“I do.” Gabby’s counting Beloved’s tiny fingers and then her toes, completely enamored. “I want an entire vampire coven with you, my king.”

Read Their Epic Love Story In Little Lies & Little Mate ...

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