Chapter 7: Morning Feeding
Finn woke to fullness. A thick, insistent pressure that bloomed into awareness before thought. The room was pale with dawn, silent except for the distant call of a crow. He was on his side, Kaelen’s massive body curled around him like a fortress, one heavy arm slung over his hip. And inside him, Kaelen was already hard, already buried to the hilt, his morning erection a hot, solid presence in the clutch of Finn’s body.
He hadn’t been awake for the entry. He’d been loose and pliant from sleep and from the thorough use hours before. Kaelen must have just… slid in. Claimed his space. Finn’s breath hitched.
A low rumble vibrated against his back. “Feel that?” Kaelen’s voice was sleep-rough, his lips moving against the nape of Finn’s neck. “Your body just sucked me right in. Like it was hungry.”
He gave a shallow, grinding thrust, and Finn moaned, his own cock stiffening against his thigh. The heat was there, a low ember in his gut stoked instantly to flame.
“Kaelen…”
“Feeding time, little one.” Kaelen’s hand slid from Finn’s hip, down over the firm curve of his belly. He pressed there, possessive and firm, as he began to move. It wasn’t the frantic, driving pace of the night before. This was slower, deeper, a relentless possession that seemed to target the very core of him. Each thrust pushed Kaelen’s palm harder against Finn’s stomach, a constant physical reminder of what lay within.
“Doctor said frequent,” Kaelen muttered, his breath hot on Finn’s skin. “Said complete. Gonna make sure you start every day full of me. Build them strong.”
The words, filthy and tender, unraveled Finn completely. He pushed back against Kaelen, meeting each slow, penetrating drive. It was different like this, connected along the whole line of their bodies. It felt less like fucking and more like a merging. The wet slide of Kaelen’s cock in his ass was obscenely loud in the quiet room. The scent of sex and sweat and them filled the air.
Kaelen’s pace began to quicken, the slow, deep rolls becoming sharper jabs. His arm tightened around Finn, locking him in place. “Need more,” he grunted, and in one fluid, powerful motion, he rolled Finn onto his stomach.
The stuffed bear on the nightstand wobbled, falling onto its side. Finn gasped into the pillow as Kaelen yanked his hips up, rearranging him on his knees, ass high in the air. The change in angle was brutal, perfect. Kaelen sheathed himself again in one long, unbroken stroke that punched the air from Finn’s lungs.
“That’s it,” Kaelen growled, his hands gripping Finn’s hips hard enough to bruise. “Take your breakfast.”
He set a punishing rhythm, pounding into Finn with a force that shook the bedframe. Each slam drove Finn forward, his face rubbing against the pillowcase. It was raw, undiluted possession. Kaelen leaned over him, covering him completely, his torso a hot, sweating weight on Finn’s back. One hand snaked around, fingers digging into the soft flesh of Finn’s thigh to hike his leg up wider, opening him impossibly further.
“So deep,” Kaelen chanted, his voice guttural. “Gonna get so deep in this cunt I’ll be in your fucking throat. You feel it? You feel where I am?”
“Yes! God, yes, I feel it!” Finn cried out, the pleasure a sharp, bright wire drawn taut through his center. He was nothing but sensation—the burn of stretch, the slap of skin, the overwhelming fullness, the hot puff of Kaelen’s breath on his shoulder.
Kaelen’s thrusts became erratic, desperate. He shifted his grip, his big hand splaying over the back of Finn’s neck, pinning him down into the mattress. The other hand remained clamped on his hip, holding him immobile for the final, frantic drives.
“Gonna fill you up,” Kaelen snarled, his body going rigid. “Gonna pump this greedy womb so full of seed it’ll have to take it. Maybe put another baby in you. A third. Make you round and heavy with all of them.”
The violent, possessive fantasy tore a ragged scream from Finn. His orgasm ripped through him, blinding and total, his channel clamping down in vicious waves around the thick cock impaling him.
Kaelen roared, a raw, unfiltered sound. He hammered home one last time and held, his body shuddering as he emptied himself in hot, pulsing jets. Finn could feel every spurt, a flood of scalding wetness that seemed to have no end. Kaelen collapsed atop him, his weight a sublime anchor, grinding his still-twitching cock deep as he milked the last of himself into Finn’s well-used hole.
For long minutes, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing. Slowly, Kaelen softened and slipped out. A rush of fluid followed, leaking onto Finn’s thighs and the sheets beneath. Kaelen didn’t move to clean it. He rolled them both to their sides, pulling Finn back against his chest, a hand returning immediately to rest on his belly.
Finn was swimming in the aftermath, his body humming, sore, profoundly satiated. The dawn light had strengthened, painting the room in gold. His eyes landed on the fallen bear on the nightstand. A relic from a childhood Kaelen never spoke of.
“You kept it,” Finn murmured, his voice hoarse.
Kaelen’s fingers flexed against his skin. “Only thing I did keep.”
They lay in silence. Finn’s mind, usually a whirlwind of anxiety, was preternaturally still. The heat had receded, leaving a deep, liquid warmth in its wake. He felt… fortified. Then, a strange, fluttering sensation bloomed low in his abdomen. Not a cramp. Not gas.
It was a quick, delicate ripple, like a fish turning in a quiet pond.
He went utterly still.
“Kaelen.” The name was a whisper.
The man behind him tensed, instantly alert. “What? Pain?”
“No. No, it’s… put your hand here.” Finn guided Kaelen’s hand lower, to the space just below his navel.
They waited, breaths held. For a moment, nothing. Then it came again. A distinct, unmistakable flutter-pop. A movement from within.
Kaelen’s sharp inhale was louder than any word he’d ever spoken. His hand trembled, just once, against Finn’s skin.
“That’s them,” he said, his voice thick with an emotion Finn couldn’t name.
Another flutter, stronger this time. A greeting. A proof.
The twins were no longer just an idea, an image on a grainy screen, a medical anomaly. They were present. They were alive. And they were moving with a vigor that belied their impossible, accelerated growth.
Finn covered Kaelen’s hand with his own, lacing their fingers together over the place where life was quickening. The seep of come between his thighs was cooling. The smell of sex was pungent in the morning air. They were a mess, tangled in soiled sheets.
For the first time since the world had tilted on its axis, Finn felt no fear. Only a fierce, terrifying certainty. This was the bargain. The heat, the relentless fucking, the clinical consultations, the shocking changes—it was all fuel. For this. For the delicate, fluttering reality beneath their joined hands.
Kaelen pressed a kiss to the sweaty junction of Finn’s shoulder and neck. It wasn't gentle. It was a brand.
“We’re not done,” he murmured, his lips moving against Finn’s skin. “They’re awake. They’ll be hungry again soon.”
And Finn knew it was true. The heat was already returning, a low ember beginning to glow anew, fed by the new life stirring inside him. The cycle was tightening. The need would come quicker, sharper. There was no going back.
The only path was forward, into the hunger.