Pregnancy Fetish Stories Novels & Stories

When I was two months pregnant, the Alpha, Lucas, asked me to give blood to his childhood friend. She pretended to have been injected with wolfsbane by a rogue werewolf and required the Luna's blood to recover. “Jessica, your physical constitution is good; hurry and give Lilith a blood transfusion!” “A real Luna wouldn’t just stand by and watch her die!” Lucas and his friends pushed me into the operating room. “It’s just a blood transfusion; it won’t harm the fetus. Even if we lose it, we can have another, but Lilith must survive.” I gave up struggling, watching my blood being drawn and transferred into Lilith's body. After waking up, I dragged myself home, only to be pushed to the ground by Lucas. I ended up with a miscarriage. That was the moment I decided to give up on this relationship.

On the day my mate's dying first love went into labor, his parents posted ten warriors at my door. They did it only to stop me from storming the delivery room and ruining the birth of Alpha Kaelen's heir. However, I never showed up, not even after the cries of a newborn filled the air. His mother, the former Luna, held the other she-wolf's hand with a sigh of relief. "Liana, with us here, that barren Elara will never harm you or the pup!" Kaelen dabbed the sweat from Liana's brow, his eyes filled with adoration. "Don't worry, my father has men guarding the pack borders. If Elara dares to cause trouble, we will exile her forever!" He finally relaxed when he was sure I wasn't coming. He couldn't understand. All he wanted was to give his dying first love a child, a legacy. Why couldn't I be more understanding? Looking at the sleeping pup, a satisfied smile crossed his face. He thought that if I would just show up and apologize to Liana, he would forgive all our previous fights. He'd even be willing to comfort me after the birth, maybe even let me be the pup's mother in name, so I could keep my title as Luna. But he didn't know. I had just submitted my application to the High Council. In one week, I would relinquish my pack status, leave with the babies in my belly, and never see him again.

Just a moment ago, after nearly bleeding to death, I gave the Rossi family their heir. But my husband, Carter, the Rossi's underboss, let his confidante, Sofia, film me giving birth just because she said she was bored. She captured everything: me losing control of my body, my screams, my face twisted in agony. Afterward, she took screenshots, turned them into memes, and passed them around a private group chat for the family's inner circle. Through the door of my hospital room, I could hear Sofia's wild laughter. "Carter, this is the best entertainment all year. You always know just what I want." "But Sloane's going to throw a fit when she wakes up and sees it." The anesthesia hadn't worn off yet. My eyelids were heavy, and through the haze, I heard Carter's usual, nonchalant tone. "She won't get really mad. You know Sloane. She always does what I tell her." "I'll just have to sweet-talk her a little. Besides, with the heir here now, she wouldn't leave me." My fingers, hidden beneath the silk sheets, clenched into a fist. My mind flooded with everything I had given up for him over the years. Carter had probably forgotten who made him the man who runs these streets. Since you love games so much, I'll play a real one with you. The day I walk away, you will all regret it.

My sister and I married into the Phoenix Clan at the same time and, coincidentally, gave birth at the same time. After my sister birthed a purebred golden phoenix, the eldest prince she married was immediately crowned the next leader of the Phoenix Clan. Meanwhile, I gave birth to a mixed-bred pheasant and was condemned to death along with my husband, who was the second prince. It was only after my death that I found out the pheasant was my sister’s child! It was a ploy concocted by her and the eldest prince. The goal was to hide the bastard bloodline of the eldest prince and steal the throne of the Phoenix Clan. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had been reborn. I didn't give birth, and my sister was visiting me with a haul of supplements…

On the day my husband's dying first love gave birth, his father, the Don of the Lupo family, posted ten armed men outside my door. They were on high alert, terrified I might storm the delivery room and disrupt the birth of the first heir to the Lupo family. But I never even touched the door, not even when the newborn's cries echoed down the hall. Luca's mother, the family's Donna, let out a long sigh of relief, her hand tightly gripping the woman's on the hospital bed. "Bianca, we're here. That barren woman, Stella, won't lay a finger on you or my grandson." Luca leaned over, gently wiping the cold sweat from Bianca's brow, his eyes filled with tenderness. "Don't worry, Father's had his men lock down the entire private hospital. If she dares to cause a scene, I'll have her struck from the family records myself." Only after confirming I wouldn't show up to make trouble did he finally relax. He didn't understand. In his eyes, he was just honoring a debt, giving a dying woman a child to carry on her name, helping his first love fulfill her final wish. Why couldn't I just be graceful about it? Why couldn't I see the bigger picture? A satisfied smile touched Luca's lips as he gazed at the swaddled infant. He was even thinking that if I would just swallow my pride, admit I was wrong, and show Bianca a little kindness, he would forgive my previous coldness completely. He'd make it up to me, even offering me the hollow title of the child's mother, allowing me to keep my position as the Underboss's wife. But what he didn't know was that I had already signed the divorce papers my lawyer had drawn up. In a week, I would cut all ties with the Lupo family, take the twins growing inside me and walk away. We would never see each other again, not in this life or the next.

My name is Clara Kelly. I was born in Brooklyn, into an Irish-American cop’s family. My father spent his whole career walking a beat out of the 84th Precinct. My mother volunteered at the parish. I was the first girl on our block to get into Columbia Law. The year I graduated, I was volunteering at a charity gala. I picked up the wrong glass of wine and ended up dumping it down the front of a man’s Brioni suit. That man was Adrian Francesco Moretti. Fourth-generation Don of the Moretti Family of New York, and one of the five families of Cosa Nostra. He chased me for four years. I said no six times. The seventh time, he stood outside my law firm in the rain until three-fifteen in the morning. I married him. Two decades in, he’d handed me the keys to the entire Moretti Family. In our world they called me “the Irish Donna,” a woman with no Italian blood who somehow held the seat. Childless by choice, the two of us. Famously in love. Until that Wednesday afternoon, when my college roommate of twenty years, my best friend Vivian Sinclair, walked into my living room with a five-year-old boy. She said the boy was Adrian’s son. She said that five years ago, she’d taken a used condom out of the wastebasket in my upstairs master bedroom, kept it frozen for three years, and done IVF. She said she was the real mother of the Moretti heir. She was the real Donna Moretti. “Be smart. Pack your bags and walk out. You might even get to keep your life.” “You’re barren. The Moretti Family doesn’t need you.” I looked at the woman I’d called my best friend for half my adult life. I didn’t say a word. She thought she was holding the winning card. What she didn’t know was that she’d just stepped onto a board Adrian and I had been laying for twenty years. I needed exactly one sentence to shatter every piece of the Donna fantasy she’d spent five years building.

My best friend and I were thrown into the beast tribe where females were rare and the law was polyandry. Last time, she chose the alluring serpent man as her mate, while I chose the loyal wolf man as mine. Her harem grew, her mate got jealous and caged her underground. My mate cherished me, and when he became chieftain, he placed the tribe at my feet. That was until my best friend shoved me off a cliff. I woke up back to the day of choosing our mates. She claimed my wolf man with a triumphant smile, in return, I simply pointed to the white tiger priest. Being the wife of the chieftain was too small a dream, after all. In a world where females rule, I'll take the throne.

My husband, Kieran, is the heir to the Thompson family. In the three years of our arranged marriage, he has never once touched me. I told myself he was just cold and guarded, that I could find a way into his heart, little by little. Then one day he came home drunk, pinned me to the bed for the first time, and called out his first love's name. "Camilla, all these years... I've thought of you every second of every day..." That was when I knew. All the passion and love he possessed was already spent on another woman. I pushed him away, burned every photo of us, and went to a high-end club in New York full of handsome male models. Nine months later, I walked into the airport with my newborn baby in my arms. Later, Kieran searched the world for me, his eyes bloodshot. He asked in a trembling voice why I never told him I was pregnant, why I wouldn't let him see our baby. I glanced at him and gave a light, breezy smile. "Who said the baby was yours?"

Brianna Lester, with her unusually platinum blonde hair and grayish-blue eyes, is impossible to miss wherever she goes. Her bubbly personality, hyperactivity, innate talent for tripping even while standing still, and her knack for always causing trouble ensure that she immediately catches the attention of the coolest tattoo artist around. Unfortunately, it's not her rather unique appearance that gets noticed, but her clumsiness. The moment she closes the door of the tattoo shop, one of the pictures hanging on the wall-the owner's favorite, and quite valuable-unexpectedly falls down. To make up for the damage, she ends up working at the shop until she can pay off the cost of the picture. It would all be pretty easy if a sexy tattoo artist didn't enjoy teasing her about her bad luck. By now, Brianna has resigned herself to the idea that her life is stuck in the "never a joy" zone, and her birthday is proof of that. Who can be considered lucky if they were born on a day that only comes once every four years? No one. Some people are kissed by fortune at birth, while others are kissed by bad luck. Brianna definitely falls into the latter category.

Kaelani spent her life believing she was wolfless. Cast out by her pack. Forgotten by the Lycans. She lived among humans—quiet, invisible, tucked away in a town no one looked at twice. But when her first heat comes without warning, everything changes. Her body ignites. Her instincts scream. And something primal stirs beneath her skin— summoning a big, bad Alpha who knows exactly how to quench her fire. When he claims her, it’s ecstasy and ruin. For the first time, she believes she’s been accepted. Seen. Chosen. Until he leaves her the next morning— like a secret never to be spoken. But Kaelani is not what they thought. Not wolfless. Not weak. There is something ancient inside her. Something powerful. And it’s waking. And when it does— they’ll all remember the girl they tried to erase. Especially him. She’ll be the dream he keeps chasing… the one thing that ever made him feel alive. Because secrets never stay buried. And neither do dreams.