Chosen To Be The Alpha's Surrogate

**I Malachi I**

The maternity section of the store is a sea of pastels and flowing fabrics, soft curves and gentle drapes designed to accommodate the swelling bellies of expectant mothers. It's a far cry from the sharp lines and dark colors of my usual haunts, but there's something oddly soothing about it all the same.

Or maybe it's just the way Penelope's eyes light up as she takes it all in, her hands fluttering over the racks of gowns with reverent fingers.

"Pick whatever you want," I tell her, my hand resting on the small of her back. "Price is no object."

She leans into my touch, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "You're going to spoil me," she accuses, but there's no heat in it, just a contented sort of warmth that makes something in my chest tighten.

"That's the idea," I agree easily, guiding her towards the dressing rooms. I push the door open for her, stepping aside to let her in. "Now go on, try some things on. I'll be right here."

She smiles, bright and carefree, and disappears into the dressing her with an armful of gowns and a playful wink.

The minutes tick by, each one feeling like an eternity as I pace the plush carpet outside the dressing room door. I can hear the rustle of fabric, the soft sighs and hums of appreciation as Penelope tries on dress after dress, but I can't see her, and the animalistic part in my is going crazy.

"Everything okay in there?" I call out, trying to keep the edge of impatience out of my voice.

There's a beat of silence before her voice floats out to me, slightly buffed by the heavy oak door. "I'm fine, just...having a little trouble with the zipper on this one."

I'm moving before I can second-guess myself, my hand on the doorknob. "I can help with that," I offer, aiming for casualness even as my blood thrums with anticipation. "If you want."

Another pause, longer this time, and then the lock clicks and the door swings open, revealing Penelope in all her glory.

*And sweet hell, what a glory it is.*

She's wearing a deep crimson gown that clings to her curves like a second skin, the rich fabric pooling at her feet in a cascade of silken waves. The bodice is cut low, the neckline plunging to reveal the creamy swell of her breasts, and the skirt drapes over her hips and thighs like a lover's caress.

But it's the way she looks at me, her eyes dark and heated, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, that has desire crashing through me like a tidal wave. "Penny..." I murmur, stepping into the dressing room and letting the door snick shut behind me. "You look...incredible."

She flushes, the pink stain spreading down her neck and disappearing beneath the neckline of the gown. "Yeah?" she breathes out sheepishly, turning to give her back to me. "Could you help me with the zipper? I can't reach it." *Easy.*

I swallow hard, my fingers trembling slightly as I reach for the small metal tab. The dressing room suddenly feels too small, too warm, the air thick with the heady scent of her perfume and the undercurrent of something deeper.

Slowly, carefully, I ease the zipper up, my knuckles grazing the smooth expanse of her spine. She shivers beneath my touch, goosebumps rising on her skin, and I have to fight the urge to chase them with my lips, to taste the sweetness of her. "There," I say, my voice rough to my own ears. "All done."

I don't step back, don't take my hands off her. I can't-not with the way she's leaning into me, her head tipped back to rest on my shoulder, exposing the long column of her throat. "Malachi," she whispers, and fuck, the way she says my name, breathy and needy, it sets my blood on fire. "I want..."

She trails off, her teeth sinking into her lower lip against, and I have to bite back a groan at the sight. "What do you want, sweetheart?" I ask, my hands settling on her hips, tugging her back against me until she can feel the hard evidence of my desire. "Tell me." *I know what you want. I can smell it on you...so fucking sweet.*

She whimpers, her nails digging into my forearms. "You," she breathes, turning her head to nuzzle into the crook of my neck. "I want you. I want you to touch me."

A growl rumbles up from my chest, my control fracturing at the raw need in her voice. But even as my fingers flex on her hips, even as I ache to give her what she's asking for, the rational part of my brain bears its head, reluctance spreading through me.

"Penny," I grit out, fighting to keep my hips still, to keep from grinding against her like a rutting beast. "We can't, not with the pup..."

But she shakes her head, her hand coming up to cup my jaw, her thumb stroking over the roughness of my stubble. "We can," she insists, her voice low and throaty. "We just have to be careful. *Please*? I need you."

And fuck, how can I deny her when she's looking at me like that, flushed and wanting? How can I resist the aching call of her body that begs for my touch?

*I can't. I won't.*

Slowly, giving her time to change her mind, I slide my hand around to her belly, splaying my fingers over the gentle swell of our growing child. She sucks in a shaky breath, her muscles quivering beneath my palm, but she doesn't pull away or tell me to stop.

Emboldened, I let my hand drift lower, skimming over the silky fabric of her gown until I reach the hem. Her breath hitches as I slip beneath it, my fingers grazing the smooth skin of her thigh, inching higher until I'm cupping her through the damp lace of her panties.

"Fuck," I groan, my forehead dropping to rest against her shoulder as I feel the heat of her the slick evidence of her arousal. "You're so wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me?"

She nods frantically, her hips canting into my touch, begging for a friction. "Yes," she gasps, her head tipping back to rest against my shoulder. "All for you, Malachi. Only for you."

A fierce rush of satisfaction surges through me, knowing that I'm the only one who gets to see her like this, desperate and needy and so fucking perfect.

Growling low in my throat, I tug her panties aside and slide one long finger into the slick heat of her, groaning at the way her walls flutter and clench around me. She's so tight, so hot and perfect, just like I remember. It takes every ounce of my fraying control not to lose myself in her, to claim her right here and now, consequences be damned.

But I can't. I won't. Not with our child growing in her belly. So instead, I focus on pleasuring her, on the slick slide of my fingers, the gentle massage of my thumb against her clit, and the breathless little moans spilling from her lips as I work her closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, Penny," I encourage her, my voice low and rough as I add a second finger, curling them just so and feeling her shudder and clench around me. "Let go for me, sweetheart. I've got you."

I sense it before it happens, her body going taut as a bowstring. I bring my free hand up, cupping it against her mouth, muffling her moans and cries as she shatters against me, her release coating my fingers, her walls pulsing and fluttering around me. I work her through it, murmuring into her ear as she slumps back against me, boneless and sated. "Good girl. That's it, my sweet Penny. You're such a good girl."

In the next moment, I lower my hand from her mouth, holding the top of her belly as I slide my hand out from her underwear and under her dress, tempted to lick her sweet juices off of my fingers.

*If I have a taste...I might not be able to stop myself.*

It takes everything inside me not to, wrapping my arm around her, just beneath the swell of her stomach. I hold her against me as her chest rises and falls heavily, a breathless whimper erupting from her throat.

*She wants more. I want more. But for now, this'll have to do.*

...

*Soon, I'm marking her, claiming her mine.*