Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Chapter 95

Ella

“Bed rest?” I repeat, glancing nervously at Sinclair. “

You mean until the baby comes?”

“No, I don’t think we have to do anything quite that extreme yet.” The doctor replies with a kind smile, “

For now let’s start with a few weeks. Beyond that we can take it as it comes.”

“What does that mean exactly?” Sinclair inquires, his large body looming over me. His heat, which sometimes reminds me too much of a blazing furnace when we’re curled in bed together, is a welcome balm now, washing over me in a tide of cozy comfort. “She can’t get out of bed at all?”

“No, it’s not that severe.” The doctor assures us. “

Ella can get up to go to the restroom, or move around to switch positions. She can take two short walks every day – one in the morning, one in the evening but no more than twenty minutes and if you find yourself getting tired or overwhelmed before then, you need to stop. Absolutely no stairs or physical exertion though, and no standing for more than twenty minutes at a time – for any reason”

My heart sinks, and I try not to let my disappointment show. It’s not the end of the world after all, it just means I’m going to be a bit bored. “

Do I have to be completely on my back, or is sitting up okay?”

“Choose whatever position is most comfortable for you.” He continues, looking back and forth between us. “More importantly, no stress whether you’re in bed, on the couch, or wherever you choose. That means no campaign events, no excitement.”

she does get excited,

an odd

would advise you keep sexual activity to a minimum, if the tension is building up it’s better to indulge

that what Sinclair was getting at, but I just didn’t understand the nuance? How

you know orgasms are the best stress relievers. The little

last time I had one of those? I think back, recalling the last night I slept away from Sinclair, when I was finally

be nice to

magically get off with a few thrusts. I always enjoyed

to his charms. His words the day of the ball – after the incident, as I’ve decided to call it – ring in my mind: Now, would you like me to make you feel good? Nothing about his own desires, nothing about going further – just a

think sharply, unsure whether I’m speaking to the memory or my inner

that my expression is giving away my lurid thoughts. Before he can say a word, I lean into his side, turning my face towards his shoulder so I can breathe in his scent. I’m doing

home now?” He asks bluntly, as if I’m the injured party here,

condition than I am.” I remind him sulkily. “We should be asking your

to go

me like I’m not here.” I grumble. “That will

hands.” The doctor replies, completely unphased by

barely

what is it?” I murmur, holding him as tightly as I can so that he knows I’m

enough to speak into my ear. “Today was horrible” He says, his voice like gravel, “every last minute

And now this.”

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