His mouth finds mine again, demanding, claiming, and the kiss is almost urgent, desperate, but still there’s that strange sweetness in it—like he’s worshipping me while taking what he wants. I cry out softly, shivering, trembling under him, every nerve alive to the combination of his sweetness and the raw, unrelenting need that drives him.
“Mine,” he hisses, and it’s not a question. It’s a statement. A claim. And I shiver, giving in completely, letting him own me, needing him to, craving it all—the sweetness, the hunger, the darkness.
“Fuck…yes,” I gasp, clinging to him as the coil inside me snaps, shattering in waves of ecstasy. His name spills from my lips, raw, desperate.
He groans against me, his body shuddering as he follows me over the edge, filling me, claiming me completely. I can feel the tremor of his release ripple through him, and he cries out myname, deep and guttural, a sound that reverberates through my bones.
For a long moment, we cling to each other, gasping, trembling, every inch of skin slick with heat, every heartbeat pounding in shared rhythm. Then, his lips brush my ear, voice low, rough, but full of something that makes me shiver all over:
“I love you,” he whispers.
I press my forehead to his, breath still ragged, chest heaving, and let the words flow from my own lips, trembling but certain:
“I love you, too.”
He gathers me into his arms, holding me against him, all-consuming strength and warmth. My head rests against his chest, listening to the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the pulse of his heart beneath my ear.
We stay silent for a long while, the only sound our ragged breathing mingling in the quiet of the room. I feel the warmth of him around me, the solid weight of his arms, but my mind is spinning, turning over the words I’ve been holding in.
Finally, I find my voice, small and hesitant, barely above a whisper. “Niko…about the pregnancy….”
He stiffens slightly, though I don’t pull away. I keep my head pressed against his chest, listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat. “You didn’t…say anything when I told you before,” I murmur, guilt and uncertainty threading through my words.
His hands still me, holding me closer, and I can feel the tension in him—the slow, deliberate weight of his thoughts settling over us. “I….” His voice drops low, rough, unreadable. He pauses, and my stomach twists.
I lift my head slightly, searching his eyes. “What are you thinking?” I whisper, my voice trembling, barely audible over the thrum of my heartbeat.
Before he can answer, a sharp knock sounds on the door, followed by a guard’s voice. “Doctor’s here, sir. She’s ready.”
Niko doesn’t speak. He simply rises from the bed, every movement deliberate, as if he’s still holding onto me, even in the pause. He helps me into my clothes, his hands brushing my skin, lingering just long enough to remind me that nothing has changed. He still owns me, still claims me, still keeps me.
Niko guides me down the quiet hall, his hand firm around mine, every step deliberate. The foyer is empty except for the doctor waiting near the elevators, eyes trained on us as we approach.
The doctor gives a small nod of acknowledgment. “Let’s take a look,” she says professionally, gesturing toward the couch.
I sit, keeping my eyes forward. Niko steps close, his hand resting lightly at my waist, an anchor and a silent promise. I feel the heat of him even in this sterile, calm space.
The examination is thorough but quick. The doctor checks for injuries, monitors my pulse, and asks a few questions about how I’m feeling. I answer as best I can.
Finally, she steps back, pen in hand, clipboard angled so she can mark her notes. “Everything looks fine,” she says, her tone calm, clinical. “No lasting injuries. Just take it easy for the rest of the day.”
Niko’s hand tightens at my waist as I start to rise from the couch. “I want a pregnancy test,” he says, his voice low but firm, leaving no room for argument.
I freeze. “Niko…I already did one with Sasha. It’s fine,” I murmur, trying to keep my tone even, hoping he’ll let it drop.
He shakes his head, leaning closer so I can feel the heat radiating from him. “No. I need to hear it from her. Official. From a doctor.”
“I just…I did it already,” I whisper again. “I’m not doing another.”
Niko’s hand stays at my waist, steady and warm, but his eyes soften, darkening with a quiet, almost vulnerable intensity. “Noelle…please,” he murmurs, voice low, gentle, almost a whisper. “I know you already did one with Sasha, but I…I need to hear it from her. I need to know for sure.”
I blink at him, heart tightening at the pleading in his tone. It’s not demanding. It’s…almost desperate.
“I trust you, I do…but I need the confirmation from a professional. Just for my peace of mind.”
I glance at the doctor, who’s watching silently, waiting. Niko leans slightly closer, his forehead brushing mine, voice still calm and reverent. “Please, Noelle…let me have this. I just want to be sure. For us.”
I nod, finally, voice soft. “Okay…if it will make you feel better.”
