Chapter 13: Territory Marking

Thick steam billowed through the master bathroom, curling around the tiled walls like a living veil as Marcus led Emma inside by the slim silver chain of her day collar. The metal links rested light yet insistent against her throat, a discreet claim she felt with every swallow. Her body had changed again in the weeks since the positive test—her belly now a pronounced, firm mound that swayed gently with each step, skin stretched smooth and warm over the life growing stronger inside. She could feel the subtle shift of weight low in her core, the way her hips had begun to widen just enough to accommodate it, and the constant, low thrum of need that never quite faded.

He’s going to mark me like territory ... piss on my skin while I carry his child, and I’m already soaked at the thought of wearing his scent. The realization sent a fresh pulse between her legs, her folds slick and sensitive beneath the faint remnants of yesterday’s denial.

Marcus guided her under the wide rainfall showerhead, the hot spray cascading over them both in a steady torrent that soaked her hair and traced glistening paths down the curve of her belly. He dropped to his knees without a word, large hands cradling the rounded swell as if it were fragile glass. Water streamed over his shoulders, darkening the silver-flecked strands at his temples, while his thumbs stroked slow, reverent circles across the taut skin. “Look at this,” he murmured, voice a deep, resonant timbre that cut through the rush of water. “My seed did this to you. Turned my rebellious little girl into a vessel carrying my heir. So full already, so perfectly claimed.”

Emma’s breath hitched as his lips followed his hands, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the lower arc of her belly. The warmth of his mouth contrasted with the spray, each press sending sparks racing straight to her core. Her nipples tightened instantly, darker now and faintly beaded at the tips with the first true hints of milk that had begun to let down more freely in the humid heat. She threaded her fingers through his hair, hips tilting forward on instinct, the growing mound brushing his cheek as he worshiped lower, tongue tracing the faint line where her belly met her thigh.

The intimacy of it twisted something deep inside her—shame flickering hot and familiar, yet overshadowed by a raw, aching pride that made her pussy clench around nothing. He’s on his knees for the belly he bred, and I’m dripping like I was made to be displayed like this. A soft moan slipped from her lips when his mouth drifted to one breast, sucking gently at the peak until a warm trickle of milk met his tongue. He groaned in response, swallowing with audible hunger, the sound vibrating against her skin.

Marcus rose slowly, towering over her once more, water sluicing down the hard planes of his chest. His intense gaze held hers as he positioned her against the cool tile wall, her back flush to it, knees bent so she knelt in the shallow basin of the shower floor. The chain leash dangled from his fist, keeping her chin lifted. “Stay right there, pet. Time to mark what belongs to me.”