THE PROFESSOR'S DIRTY CLAIM
The child kicked softly, a gentle flutter that sent a warm ripple of alien-tinged pleasure through his core, making his cock twitch against the loose linen trousers he wore.
Damian approached from behind, arms sliding around his waist, one hand resting possessively on the swell of his belly. His lips brushed the back of Alex’s neck, above the collar.
“You’re thinking about it again,” Damian murmured, voice low and rough with sleep. “The new timeline. The version where we almost lost each other.”
Alex leaned back into him, feeling the solid warmth of Damian’s chest, the familiar scar beneath his shirt. “I can’t stop. The echoes are gone, but the memory of that other me… the one who took power