Pregnant With Four Alphas' Babies: A Reverse Harem Romance Chapter 65: A Conundrum with the DNA

*Adam*

The king paces around looking like an angry Oompa Loompa as he listens to what Dr. Pendergan is telling him. His face has started to resemble an overripe tomato with every word the doctor utters.

“What do you mean all of them are the fathers? This wasn’t what we agreed on!”

The doctor looks as taken aback as I am by that. It’s as though he is accusing her of inseminating Rose with seed from all the Alphas.

“This is actually possible in biology and medical history, Your Majesty. There was a high possibility she could end up having multiple babies because of her double uterine horn,” the doctor says.

He stomps his feet in anger. “You didn’t warn me about this, doctor. You said a double-horned uterus was the best at getting pregnant quicker, not that it was some suction device sucking in every man's semen like a vacuum to create offspring. Could the DNA test be wrong?”

“The test is ninety-nine percent accurate,” the doctor responds plainly.

“Well, maybe that one percent is worth looking into. They can’t all be the fathers. There has to be one winner.”

The doctor shrugs. No medical theory she can spin will change this.

“It appears the Moon Goddess had other plans then,” the doctor iterates.

I smile secretly at her response. When medical reasoning fails, turn to mystical alternatives for answers.

“Could we terminate the other three babies before they are born?”

I feel the small hairs on my neck standing on end at this question. Was the king just pure evil? Kill the babies before they are even born? Emily had thought the only way to get rid of her problems was by killing, and now the king is thinking the same way…. Well, he is already thinking of killing Rose once the babies are born anyway. Is murder a family DNA trait that runs in their blood?

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, that will just endanger all of the babies. Doing that would result in her losing all the children… and even her life. I also doubt the Alphas would agree to have their children killed,” Dr. Pendergan reasons.

I frown, wondering how he would even pick which of the four babies to kill. Would it be a game of Russian roulette? Three bullets, and the lucky one is the baby who will get the blank bullet? This man is crazy.

“Leave!” he barks, and the doctor curtsies and walks out.

“What are we going to do? The doctor thinks I am worried about the life of that Breeder. If getting rid of those babies kills her, who cares? Her days are numbered anyway. It would make your job of killing her that much easier. We could always find another Breeder. She’s replaceable.” He is talking to me.

“The Alphas would never agree to such an act. They will fight you, Your Majesty, if you mess with the lives of their children. This is bigger than just getting rid of the Breeder. Bigger than the throne as well. What she is carrying within her is their blood, and fathers will go to extremes to protect their young ones,” I say as forcefully as I can.

He snorts and stops to look at me. “There can’t be four kings. Emily can’t marry all four of them. There has to be one winner, and you will come up with a better plan for that to happen.”

I swallow nervously. I know he has always believed me to be weak and stupid, and he never admits that I am always the one to come up with most of ‘his’ brilliant plans.

“I think we shouldn’t act hastily—” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“Maybe I should have just let Alpha Kane be king. This whole nonsense would have been avoided.” Then he mutters, “Maybe I shouldn’t abdicate the throne at all.”

I am not sure what to make of that last remark, so I ignore it. “Well, I think it’s a little late for ‘should haves,’ Your Majesty. I also doubt you would have been willing to let your beautiful cousin Emily marry Alpha Kane.” I want to high-five myself for managing to keep a straight face while saying the words ‘beautiful’ and ‘Emily’ in the same sentence.

“You are right. But we need to have a solution, or I will call off this whole challenge.”

“What if we continue with the challenge? When the Breeder is ready to have the babies, the first male child to come out of her will determine the winner,” I suggest.

“What do you mean the first male child to come out will determine the winner? Babies don’t talk, and I won’t wait for it to grow up and then announce who the winner will be.”

For a man most people label as wise and knowledgeable, the king is really unbelievably stupid.

I clear my throat and try again. “The father of the first male child to be born amongst the four children will be the king,” I clarify.

“Ohhh! That’s an awesome idea. That’s how it will be then. I will tell the Alphas that the father of the first male child to be born amongst the four babies will be the king. Do you see why I am king, Beta Adam?”

Had the guy just taken credit for my idea again? And now he was asking me to stroke his ego by declaring him an awesome king?

“Yes, Your Majesty. Everyone knows there is no situation you can’t handle.”

Prick!

* * *

*Shelby*

When Adam walks into our bed chambers, I am sitting by the window in a rocking chair. I can’t help but smile as I watch some robins playing in the garden fountain outside.

I turn around, get up, and walk toward him as he enters.

“Well…? What is the king going to do now that all four Alphas are the fathers?”

“He wanted to kill three of the babies,” he says.

“What is with him and his cousin always wanting to kill everyone?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Don’t worry, I talked him out of that madness. I also talked him out of calling the challenge off,” he responds.

“So they will all be kings?” I feel my eyes grow wider as I imagine if that could be a possibility.

“No. I came up with a plan he accepted. The father of the first male child born will be king.”

“Oh…that’s sexist, isn’t it? What if all four children are girls?” I shrug. Trust me to always have questions for my man’s brilliant ideas.

“Well, then we will think of another plan. Maybe the father of the most masculine-looking baby girl will be king then,” he defends himself, sounding a little annoyed.

“Aww, don’t be angry, my love. I’m proud of you for managing to keep this challenge going and for saving those children. Don’t mind my forever racing mind. If all the children are girls, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, my man saved the day. And I want to show you just how much I appreciate and am proud of you.” I give him a mischievous smile and step back.

I know the king will be looking for him soon, and I know we might not have enough time for a full tumble in the sheets session, so to speak.

“Baby, I don’t think we have time for that. Not now anyway, maybe later,” he replies. Really, he’s turning this joyous opportunity down?

“This won’t take that long.” I wink at him and pull some pins from my hair, letting it free.

I want to see him lose all control with me again. I want to see him as wild as he was on our honeymoon night. I kneel in front of him.

It has been a while since I have given my man head. This married life can make one overlook the pleasures of giving joy in other ways than the traditional sense.

He looks down at me, and there is no mistaking the pure hunger in his gaze.

"Shel—"

“Shh!”

I run the palm of my hand over his trousers and feel his manhood leap to life. It feels hard and thick even from under the heavy cotton material of his pants.

Slowly, I pull down the zipper, and like an angry cobra ready to attack, his rod pounces out of the restrictive piece of clothing.

I can’t help but marvel at the beauty of it. The veins coursing through its length look like dazzling finishing touches to perfection. His rod twitches and seems to grow harder from just my gaze, and I realize I've been gaping at it for some time now.

The milky liquid that is dripping from the mushroom head tells me that he is ripe for the harvest. I salivate as I think about how he will taste after all this time. I can hear him breathing heavily while struggling to maintain some sort of composure.

He's big; irreverent. Obscenely protruding out; intimidating. It's begging for a lick… demanding for one. I run my tongue along its length, the wet surface of my mouth teasing and activating the nerve ends of his veins. His pecker twitches again in response.

I wet my index finger with my tongue and softly drag it along the slit at the head, bringing wetness along his cock. After getting the entire head wet, I look up and catch his burning stare. Then, slowly, I lean in to blow air on the slicked skin… as if fanning the flames I have already ignited.

I can feel a pool forming in between my thighs and reach down in my pants with one hand. I let my finger rub away the pulsating need building inside my sensitive tissues.

I take his rigid shaft in my mouth with the other hand. I move my head forward and let the tip hit the far end of the back of my throat. My eyes roll back as I savor the taste…. I have missed this.

I hold back my gagging reflex with practiced ease and repeat the movement, but this time, I bring my inner cheeks in to create a vacuum motion. I taste the salty juice on my tongue and moan at the aphrodisiac effect it channels through my body. I incline my head to the side as I repeat the motion. Lapping, sucking, and tasting.

His orgasm is prompt, and with his release comes my own earth-shattering one. The volume of the intoxicating spasms coursing through my body is urged on by the flick of my wrist on my clit. Warm, rich liquid from his ejaculation gives me a deserved facial born of pure passion.

The jets go on and on. He doesn't take his hand to grab at his hungry flesh to try and ride it out. I bend down and nestle his balls on my tongue. A little suck on them causes him to stagger and shiver.

That release… those cries are for me. Only for me.

And he is still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in all my years.

I lounge in the unadulterated animal femininity that flows through me in response to the picture of him. My own orgasms come in waves, making my body convulse in response to the gruff groans from my man that are beautiful like erotic musical notes to my ears.

This is what I am, what I have always been and had forgotten: a glutton for his pleasure. I live for it. My heart beats for it. I love it! I love him. I love us.

He looks around after it's over, seeming not to know what to do with himself.

“Thank you, my love. I am proud of you,” I moan and lick my lips while our eyes stay locked.

Words are of no importance now as the raw desire is exchanged through our linked gazes that seem to promise each other a lot more passion to come.